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Issue 60.5 of the Review for Religious, 2001. ; A Discerning Way Personal Wi~tne,ss Consecrated Life Religious Vows SEPTEMBER' OCTOBER 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 5 Review for Religious 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 charism~ 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 ° V~reb site: "~wcw.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. ©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 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. 0 religious LIVING OUR CATHOUC 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 Henseli OSB Bishop CaHos A. Sevilla SJ Ernest E. Larkin OCarm Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ SEPTEMBER OCTOBER 2001 VOLUME 60 NUMBER 5 contents 454 466 474 a discerning way Exercising Power and Discerning Spirits Janet K. Ruffing RSM alerts us to the ways we are called to be attentive to both subtle and profound movements of the Spirit of God in our midst and attentive to our need for ongoing conversion in our use of power personally and communally. Personal and Social: Shared Experience Can Renew Us Dennis J. Billy CSSR examines the interplay between the individual and the community which releases creative energies to help the community remain faithful to its tradition while adapting to the challenges and needs of the present. Examining My Conscience: Do I Have an Attitude? Brendan Kneale FSC proposes a refinement of our examination of conscience that deals with acquired attitudes or mindsets or preconceptions over which we have some supervision. personal witness 479 Mother Teresa's Charism 494 J. Neuner SJ, using some of Mother Teresa's writings, sketches the charism of the Missionaries of Charity, the loving appropriation of the crucified Jesus' "I thirst." Mother Teresa: Joy in the Night Albert Huart SJ shows--from letters which are part of the beatification process for Mother Teresa--that spiritual darkness was a constant companion of this joy-giving woman of our day. Review for Religious 503 507 Multicultural at Our Very Heart: The Little Sisters of Jesus Cathy Wright LSJ shares some of the story of the Little Sisters of Jesus, founded by Magdeleine Hutin, as an example of multicultural religious living. Millennial Stirrings in Religious A. Paul Dominic SJ reads the signs of the times to picture the healthy stirrings of growth in religious life. 52O 536 re~Ogious vows Poverty as Charity: The Search for a Lifestyle Norm Garth Hallett SJ presents a resolution to the confused practice of religious poverty by a more definite norm, one more surely grounded in the New Testament. Untying the Nots: Vowed Commitment Today Philip Armstrong CSC traces his own transition in understanding the vows of poverty, obedience, and chastity with the three key identifying words of onptiness, openness, and ftTziq%lness. departments 452 Prisms 543 Canonical Counsel: Exclusion from Profession at the Expiration of Temporary Profession 548 Book Reviews September-October 2001 prisms Hospitality has become a popular theme recently in the commentaries of scrip-ture scholars and in the books of current spiritual writers. Perhaps the popularity is a reactive response to the individualism prevalent in contemporary cul-ture, to the isolating security measures in the face of crime, and to the anonymity of suburbia or apart-ment living. But stressing hospitality is not a con-temporary creation. Hospitality as a theme runs through both Old and New Testament writings. Hospitality describes succinctly the double com-mandment of love of God and love of neighbor. Hospitality has two aspects: being at home one-self and making another feel at home. There is an old saying: Home is were the heart is. Home may be connected with certain physical surroundings, but location is not the focus of being "at home." Any place can become home for us when our heart finds its rest there. When we make others feel at home, we have welcomed them in such a way that, by being with us, they find rest at their heart's center. Welcoming the other, welcoming the stranger, may often seem to put the focus only on the object of hos-pitality. But welcoming involves relationship. It takes two--the one being hospitable and the one receiv-ing hospitality--and it is for both to experience that "home" is being shared because the hearts of both parties are involved. Review.for Religious The incident of Jesus' enjoying the hospitality of Mart_ha and Mary in Luke's Gospel (10:38-42) has traditionally led to an interpretation of personality types labeled as Marthas or Marys or to an interpretation of the alternative religious ori-entations of active and contemplative life. Perhaps greater insight into our Christian and Catholic living will be gained if we view both Martha and Mary under the lens of hospitality. Martha is certainly esteemed by biblical tradition for being busy about the efforts of making another feel at home. Mary, for her part, is praised by Jesus in the provocative expression of "choosing the better part" for making him feel so much at home. Together Martha and Mary represent the essentials of hospitality. Mary, listening to Jesus and sitting at his feet, symbolizes the stance of every disciple. She finds her home in God, and her heart is at rest. She has the more essential quality (the "better part"), because she is at home in the deepest part of herself with God. Knowing her true home, she is empowered to offer hospitality to others. Martha represents the other essential quality of hospitality--the work of seeking out and actively inviting others to find a home. Hospitality is the prac-tice which images our living the one commandment of love of God and neighbor. The exercise of hospitality in our personal interaction with friends and strangers, in our religious community, and in our parish life provides us today in our times and cultures with the sign similar to the one distinguishing the first Christians: "See how they love one another." In the midst of the contentious-ness that we often find in our dealings with people who differ with us or who are different from us, we are called to live a hospitality that remains true to our biblical tradition and to the best that is in human hearts. Hospitality becomes the expression on the faces of people seeing Christ in one another. David L. Fleming SJ September-October 2001 JANET K. RUFFING .Exercising Power and Discerning Spirits a discerning way A critical relationship to our exercise of power is a spiritual task for all Christians. This is true, then, for all the sisters who participate in congregational assem-blies or chapters, and not just for those elected to lead-ership. There are many sources of power: wealth, education, ethnic origin, family status, professional role, elective and appointive offices, reputation, organiza-tional skill, control of information, and personal gifts. In a number of situations, we fail to take into consider-ation the presence of these various powers among us. As Christians we are responsible for our exercise of power on behalf of the human community and of indi-vidual persons within our spheres of power. We are called to live our lives in the service of the kingdom of God and the values of the gospel regardless of our par-ticular settings and regardless of how others may exer-cise power around us. Choices about our exercise of power may be difficult if we have not had helpful role models. Nevertheless, it is through the critical exercise of power that we inhabit more fully our humanity, empower others, respond to the power of Jesus' spirit Janet K. Ruffing RSM, professor of spirituality in Fordham's Graduate School of Religion and Religious Education, last wrote for us in July-August 1997. Her address remains GSRRE, Fordham University; 441 East Fordham Road; Bronx, New York 10458. Review for Religious within the community, and effect change in the world. Our response to God's Spirit in us is such an exercise of power. The New Testament speaks about a kind of power that is based neither on domination nor position. It is the power that comes from on high over Mary: the Holy Spirit, who effects her con-ception of Jesus and who comes upon the community gathered in his name after the resurrection. Jesus' ministry is characterized by a release of God's power as he expels demons and heals those who believe. The woman with the issue of blood touches Jesus, and power goes out from him. In Luke, all try to touch Jesus in order to be healed because power emanates from him. When Jesus sends out his disci-ples to preach, he confers power on them, not to rule but to heal and to cast out demons. Jesus brings into our midst freedom from all that binds us. He heals and forgives sin, and through the Spirit he shares this power for good with us. We share in this healing and reconciling power. The Spirit is poured forth on the entire gathered community after the resurrection, and our gathered communities continue to share in that outpouring. We, as apostolic women, are empowered by that same Spirit. We are called to develop ways of making decisions, organizing our lives, and harmonizing our gifts so that this holy power is released in each of us and in the group as a whole for mission. The disci-ples had trouble understanding this, too, for they kept mixing up these two kinds of power--wanting to rule and lord it over others rather than releasing the God life to its own ends. Religious communities are meant to be places where this power of God's Spirit is manifest in concrete and particular ways. It is part of our witness to the world. Many of us have worked long and hard to change the way we relate to one another through our shared exercise of power so that the life of God filling us with desire might be released in God's people. In She Who Is, Elizabeth Johnson describes what the experience of the Spirit is like at the level of institutions: Religious communities are meant to be places where this power of God's Spirit is manifest in concrete and particular ways. September-October 2001 Ruffing ¯ Exercising Power and Discernin~ Spirits On the le,bel of the macro systems that structure human beings as groups, profoundly affecting consciousness and patterns of relationship, experience of the Spirit is also medi-ated. Whenever a human community resists its own destruc-tion or works for its own renewal; when structural change serves the liberation of oppressed peoples; when law sub-verts sexism, racism, poverty, and militarism; when swords are beaten into ploughshares or bombs into food for the starving; when the sores of old injustices are healed; when enemies are reconciled once violence and domination have ceased; whenever the lies and the raping and the killing stop; wherever diversity is sustained in koinonia; wherever justice and peace and freedom gain a transformative foothold-- there the living presence of powerful, blessing mystery amid the brokenness of the world is mediated. And it is known not in the open, so to speak, but as the ground of the praxis of freedom that survives and sometimes even prevails against massive violence; as the ground, in Peter Hodgson's telling words, of those partial, fragmentary, disconnected, transient, tiny, yet transforming rebirths that enable history to go on at all in the midst of vast discontinuities and meaninglessness. So universal in scope is the compassionate, liberating power of Spirit, so broad the outreach of what Scripture calls the finger of God and early Christian theologians call the hand of God, that there is virtually no nook or cranny of reality potentially untouched. The Spirit's presence through the praxis of freedom is mediated amid profound ambigu-ity, often apprehended more in darkness than in light. It is thwarted and violated by human antagonism and systems of collective evil. Still, "Everywhere that life breaks forth and comes into being, everywhere that new life as it were seethes and bubbles, and even, in the form of hope, everywhere that life is violently devastated, throttled, gagged, and slain-- wherever true life exists, there the Spirit of God is at work." This is not to say that every person who reflects on the world would arrive at this same conclusion. But, within the Jewish and Christian faith, the Spirit's saving presence in the con-flietual world is recognized to be everywhere, somehow, always drawing near and passing by, shaping fresh starts of vitality and freedom.' We are often privileged to witness the vitality of freedom in these fresh starts and often fragmentary rebirths around us. Yet, I believe, all of us still have much to learn about our exercise of power. This task requires us to be attentive to both subtle and profound movements of the Spirit of God in our midst and atten-tive to our need for ongoing conversion in our use of power per- Review for Religious sonally and communally. Where God's Spirit is authentically at work, individuals experience an increase in energy, creativity, and humanization. Challenge and Conflict Because we live in times of unprecedented cultural change, leadership in women's communities i~ increasingly charged with tasks of"nonroutine" or adaptive work, to use the vocabulary of Ron Heifetz. Leadership in such times is charged not only with routine administration, but also with guiding a community through adaptive challenges. We have commonly used the vocabu-lary of transformational leadership for this function. Adaptive or transformational change requires changes in values, beliefs, and behaviors. It requires much more of both leaders and members than simple modification; it will not occur unless leaders identify con-flict and work with it rather than avoid it. Groups themselves rarely, if ever, correctly identify the deep-level challenges to which they need to respond. The work is simply too hard, and the ordinary members are frequently lacking the "big picture" or the specific informa-tion that would impel them ko initiate change. Members are usually so thoroughly immersed in their own ministries that these eclipse the bigger picture even if they have access to it. Leaders often work with this bigger picture every day. This is one reason why leaders have a responsibility to share infor-mation and to articulate their perceptions to the group engaged in deep change. For communities to flourish at the present time, they need skillful administrators who effectively direct the tech-nical or routine details of the group's life and mission, and they need leaders who can distinguish among these tasks while attend-ing to the transformational change process and orchestrating it. Change at this level can result only from a collective and con-templative process. Religious communities are now at risk of stow extinction if their leaders think their only task is to implement the consensual decisions of the group. Septentber-October 2001 Ruffing ¯ Exercising Power and Discerning Spirits Religious communities are now at risk of slow extinction if their leaders think their only task is to implement the consen-sual decisions of the group. Although this function is necessary, the process is slow 'and cannot keep up with the pace of change. Leaders need to anticipate and help the group keep moving toward the next change. Yes, women leaders do tend to use their collaborative skills to achieve consensus instead of imposing their solutions on the group, but a group can come to consensus on only so many issues, values, decisions. The energy and skill used in developing consensus, if not focused on really important choices, may drain energy from hard adaptive work that remains to be done. In religious life today, leaders often need to initiate change by correctly identifying unavoidable challenges and helping the group see that some of these challenges must be resolved by a deep level of change, and not merely by technical solutions or skill. For this task, leaders need all of their motiva-tional skills to keep the group engaged in the process, and they need to create a safe enough space for fearful and distressed members to do what they would just as soon avoid doing. Tranformational change is the occasion for a considerable amount of distress. Leaders need to anticipate this distress, which often manifests itself as resistance, and endeavor to alle-viate enough of it so the group can do the work required. From leaders this requires all of the qualities the FORUS study in the early 1990s identified in authentically spiritual leaders. Leaders must demonstrate, on the bne hand, a radical and genuine trust in God and in the future into which God invites us and, on the other hand, must not minimize the distress in the group. Leaders need to hbsorb a great deal of the distress and not pass it on, but also to get the group to confront the change. This graced abil-ity to remain unflappable under pressure is difficult. Leaders need to have acquired considerable spiritual, psychological, and emotional resources to do this without damage to themselves. Leaders need not convince members to resolve challenges exactly as they would prefer. What they must do is continue giving the task of finding creative solutions back to the group-- or to one or more committees if that seems more practical. Effective responses can and do emerge out of careful handling of conflicting points of view. Frequently the resolution is not going to be what the leaders envisioned. This is why nominees, when asked what they would do in a particular situation, can Review for Religious rarely answer convincingly. They simply do not know what the emerging issues are or will be. Only as new issues arise can lead-ership identify them and focus attention on them. To ignore these late-rising issues would be to ignore the rest of the work to be done. Leadership serves the group by continually trying to think ahead of it and be ready to help the group respond to emerging issues. For the prophetic or dissenting voices to have any impact in the group at all, leaders will need to make room for both the novel and the differing until they get enough hearing to enable the group to shift. Whenever the novel emerges, the group needs time to welcome the possibilities it offers and to negotiate the many subtle interior shifts that such a change might require. It is difficult for people to receive the novel if its herald is not one of the more acceptable and respected members of the group. Yet the proposed newness may be exacdy what is needed. This deeper level of change can never happen in a group unless the positional leaders, the women elected to leadership and bearing the right to exercise authority in the name of the group, use that power skill-fully until the tensions can be resolved.2 Some of the studies on women in leadership show that women leaders tend to rely more on their personal power than on their official authority. If those of you who are leaders in a specific situation are wondering if you have authority or not, it may be because you are not making enough use of it as you invite, cajole, encourage, inspire, and entice the group to do what it needs to do. Some of you may avoid using your posi-tional authority in order not to evoke old transferences to authority. Women leaders and their communities need to see authority as a resource to be used for the sake of the group. Most members want to be challenged to be their best selves, even though everyone is aware that conversion and growth cannot be coerced. In facing the particular challenges of transformational change, we as women let our historical wounds regarding authority heal. We develop the skills of being leaders and mem-bers in partnership, in mutuality. We focus our energies in harmony with the divine energies for the sake of mission. I want now to reflect more at length on the exercise of power in a discernment mode--in the context of choosing leaders and gath-ering together in assembly or chapter. Septentber-October 2001 Ru~n~ ¯ Exerdsin~ Power and Discernin~ S~irits Discernment of Spirits My reflections draw on some themes from Catherine of Siena's teaching on discernment of spirits and also on the skills and wisdom of the Quaker tradition of communal discernment. Although Catherine of Siena does reflect incidentally on various interior movements in the course of her Dialogue, she emphasizes discernment. For her, discernment has more to do with right relationships and living in harmony with God, whom she often calls Truth. Because discernment is rooted in supreme Truth, "it rightly sets conditions and priorities of love where other people .are concerned. The light of discernment, which is born of charity, gives order to your love for your neighbors . The pri-orities set by holy discernment direct all the soul's powers to serving Me courageously and conscientiously.''3 Discernment is born of charity. This implies that an open, unselfish, loving heart fosters discernment by the ordering activity of love. Discernment is a virtue that puts everything in perspective and shows us what we owe to each person and situation. Catherine insists it grows and develops as we do in the life of God; it enlarges our capacity for love expressed in ministry. As we grow in our love for God, so do we grow in our discernment. Catherine has three stages to the spiritual life, to growth in charity, and to discernment which she calls the first, second, and third lights. Discernment is the light which" dissolves all darkness, dissi-pates ignorance, and seasons every virtue and virtuous deed. It has a prudence that cannot be deceived, a strength that is invincible, a constancy right up to the end, reaching as it does from heaven to earth, that is, from the knowledge of Me to the knowledge of oneself, from love of Me to love of one's neighbors. By this glorious light the soul sees and rightly despite her own weakness.4 There are, I believe, several implications that we might draw from this teaching. As a community gathers for decision making in a discernment mode, no two people in the group are able to participate in" exactly the same way. As we assemble, we are all in different places. The more each of us knows and loves God, the more we understand ourselves. The more we know and love our neighbors, the more we love God. Catherine recognizes that dis-cernment as a virtue grows and develops over the course of our graced history and in proportion to the intensity of our love for God and for others. This growth reveals to us our particular weak- Review for Religious nesses, blind spots, cowardice, and resistances and our reactions under stress--all of which, sowing confusion and doubt, may keep us from making costly decisions. This self-knowledge is extremely important. If we do not know our characteristic ways of responding to stress or distress, our blindness may increase the confusion and doubt of the gathered community. Some members may be skilled in this discernment, and others, for various reasons, may not have the same clear perception of a situation or the same capacity to accept God's invitation to move forward. This incapacity may come from current cir-cumstances: a recent bereavement, phys-ical illness, or recent ministry challenges that have left them benumbed. The best preparation before we gather for communal discernment is to increase our prayer, to seek self-knowl-edge in the present moment, and to heal and reconcile anything we can with other members. Intensifying our connection to God, gaining self-knowledge, and recon-ciliation efforts can remove potential blocks within the group. If any member speaks the truth about an issue, situation, or challenge that the group needs to face, every other member must receive it and "test" its possibilities for herself and for the group. If this truth is spoken by a member whose opinions people frequently perceive to be "off the mark" or whom they tend to dismiss because of past performance, the others may fail to respond with openness to conversion, that is, with willingness to change their minds. Individuals and the group need to allow enough time for such a potential shift to occur among themselves. This is a quite different process from the response those readily receive who--by reason of their education, their election, or their previous performance--are customarily taken seriously. In Catherine of Siena's system, those who practice discern-ment according to the third "light" are those who have "clothed" themselves in God's will. They are attuned to God and God's desire. This harmony with God's will is not necessarily about specific issues; it is a matter of practical insight into the Mystery If we do not know our characteristic ways of responding to stress or distress, our blindness may increase the confusion and doubt of the gathered community. Septentber-October 2001 Ruffing * Exercising Power and Discerning Spirits of Jesus' total self-giving love for us in the paschal mystery. The touchstone is not seeing a single issue clearly, but living constantly within the Christ mystery. Such "seeing" elicits desire to imitate Jesus' self-giving love without counting the cost to self. In Catherine's words, such a person "loves me sincerely without any other concern than the glory and praise of my name. She does not serve me for her own pleasure, or her neighbors for her own profit, but only for love." Such persons are alive with the charism of their community. Full of apostolic zeal, they basically love in un-self-serving ways. Such persons are not prevented from choosing God's will because of their own selfishness, nor does suffering or antic-ipated difficulty prevent them from choosing what is best for God, others, and self. What is sought is God's will, which Catherine assumes leads us to what is best for everyone. Communities today face many pressing issues. What is best for one community may not be best for another. What God may be calling one community to at a particular juncture is not the same as another. With who we are, where we are geographically, and where we are in our communal and personal histories, what is best for our mission, our selves, and those with whom we minister? From the rich Quaker tradition of discernment, I will discuss only three themes: unity, peace, and clarity. Quakers, like other Christians, draw on the "fruits of the spirit" as sketched by Paul in Galatians 5:23 as a touchstone for discernment. "The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patient endurance, kindness, generosity, trust, gentleness, and self-control." This cluster of outcomes or fruits resulting from behaviors, attitudes, spiritual practices, and interactions with others reveals lives authentically lived in the Spirit. These fruits are all interrelated. For the Society of Friends, privileged unity in God's love was an important result in commu-nity life of various impulses or "leadings" of the Spirit in individuals. At certain times of corporate "waiting on the Lord," they experienced their unity, their being gathered in God, as a palpable mystical experience. This unity bore fruit in love of neigh-bor. For them kindness and gentleness were dimensions of the fruit of love. Traditionally they came to ask whether a particular course of "action would produce more or less love, greater or less unity, more or less joy.''s They valued Truth as well, assuming that, once the community Review for Religious was deeply "gathered in unity," an individual under divine guidance would be consistent with the perceptions of others who were also attuned to divine guidance. So the quality of love which could gather the community in unity also led to discerning the truth. As Patricia Loring describes it, the unity sought is not simple agreement, not consensus, compromise, or an irreducible minimum of views. What is sought is a sense of deep interior unity which would be a sign that the members are consciously gathered together in God and may therefore trust their corporate guidance: The felt gathering in God tends to illuminate and clarify motives, to dissolve or harmonize differences-or allow them to stand side by side in the tenderness accompanying gath-ering in the spirit of God. Unity may enable a way forward to be found even if members continue to hold differing views. Divisiveness, disruption, or simple lack of unity indicate that one, all, or some members of the group are not fully under guidance.6 Peace is yet another important touchstone of the gathered community. The unity of the gathered community brings about peace by harmonizing disparate elements within the community and within the self. Quakers discovered that "the reconciliation of disparate parts of one's self or of one's experience in a new, sometimes unexpected direction or action can issue in a deep interior sense of peace . Living close to the Spirit has the effect of such harmonizing and reconciling both within and between persons." For Quakers, peace as a touchstone in communal discernment is "the feeling of being at peace with a decision or an outcome, even if it is not what one sought or hoped for, even if it calls for considerable hardship or change.''7 Often a new burden or task disturbs one's peace initially. Peace or ease is restored only when one accepts the burden or fulfills the task. In leadership selection processes, frequently those being considered experience considerable lack of peace. Sometimes, when a nominee is graced to accept a potential call to leadership, a flood of peace results. When or if this deep peace makes itself felt, a leader may confidently trust the election and will often return to this initial grace of leadership in difficult times. Lack of peace is as important as peace. When peace is disturbed, some action is called for. Sometimes the action or resolution is neither simple nor obvious. At times individuals and groups suffer a prolonged period of living with disquiet before the fitting response becomes clear. September-October 2001 Ruffing ¯ Exercising Power and Discerning Spirits Quakers often used the word "clear" as in "getting clear" to describe an outcome of discernment. Sometimes it had the con-notation of being released from a burden. At other times it involved acting on a "leading" (that is, a matter discerned) and faithfully carrying it out. In this early form, getting clear was closer to how we might describe feeling free. Quakers now use the term clarity or clearness in the sense of coming to intellectual clarity about what they are to do or what a "leading" might be about, and much of their individual discernment is aided by convoking a clearness committee. The membdrs of such a group are invited on the basis of their spiritual sensitivity and typically only ask questions which might help the individual discerners clarify their inner truth. They help them clarify their situation, motives, and "leadings": they do not offer advice. As Patricia Loring describes such a gathering, it first of all opens itself to divine guidance. For Quakers this is not a per-functory moment of silence, but a much deeper recollection: "for an intentional return to the Center, to give over one's own firm views, to place the outcome in the hands of God, to ask for a mind and heart as truly sensitive to accepting of nuanced intimations of God's will as of overwhelming evidences of it.''s This is an attitude of receptivity to subtle hints of God's will as well as to unmistakable clarity. Discernment is, then, a habit of the heart. From my perspec-tive it is intimately linked with our spiritual development. When we exercise power in any context, but especially when it is time for major decision making in community or when we are in offi-cial positions of authority, we need discernment to ensure that we are exercising our power in service of the reign of God and not for self-serving benefits of any kind. When we or our communities are thus "gathered" in God, an incredible amount of energy is released for the sake of others and of ourselves. When we enter into this discernment in partnership with God, whose Spirit impels us toward goodnes{, toward love, toward peace, and toward patience, the results are energy, enthusiasm, gentleness, and joy. Notes l Elizabeth Johnson, She Who Is (New York: Crossroad Publishing Company, 1993), pp. 126-127. 2 Katherine Clarke, "Leadership When It's Time for Adaptation," Human Development 18 (Fall 1997): 5-11. Review for Religious 3 Catherine of Siena: The Dialogue, ed. and trans. Suzanne Noffke (Mahwah: Paulist Press, 1980), §11, p. 44. 4 Dialogue, § 11, p. 44. s Patricia Loring, Spiritual Discernment: The Context and Goal of Clearness Committees, Pendle Hill Pamphlet 305 (Wallingford, Penn.: Pendle Hill Publications, 1992), p. 7. 6 Loring, p. 8. 7 Loring, p. 9. s Loring, p. 24. The Woman Arusha, Tanzania So short the bridge on the main road in the city few notice the deep stream, nor see, among the bustling feet, a woman, in rags, on the dusty pavement, leaning against the stone parapet, clutching a begging cup. One sprawling leg wears a tattered shoe, the other a soiled bandage lying loosely where a foot should be. I walk grimly on, and on, and on. Troubled, I turn, walk back two blocks and share my conscience with a leper. Hugh Sharpe CFC September-October 2001 DENNIS J. BILLY Personal and Social: Shared Experience Can Renew Us Religious live in community and profess the evangelical counsels of chastity, poverty, and obedience. These common features make religious into countercultural and eschatological signs of radical discipleship. Living together under a rule dedicated to the spread of gospel values, they remind others and themselves of the presence of the kingdom of God within them, in their midst, and still to come. Religious do this through the individual and communal expression they give to the vows. In this essay I will look at the reciprocal relationship between the personal and social, giving special attention to discrepancies between vision and practice and to the value of interpersonal sharing of experience for the community's renewal. A Circular Relationship I begin with a hypothesis: A relationship of circularity exists between people's personal expression of the vows and the gospel culture promoted by their community. This link between the personal and the communal comes from the vows themselves. They embrace all of human existence: the physical, the emotional, the intellectual, the spiritual, and the social. ~ Human existence is constituted by individual consciousness, which itself is shaped, at least in part, by social ties (parents, family, schools, churches, social clubs, charitable organizations, athletic Dennis J. Billy CSSR continues to write from Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma, Italy. Revie~v fbr Religious teams, and so forth). From birth, infants interact with this social environment; gradually maturing, they have a greater impact on it. This creative interplay contributes to the values people adopt and affects the choices they make in life. The formation of religious in discipleship roughly parallels this human growth and development. By their very nature the evangelical counsels are derived from, fostered by, and oriented toward life in community. This social dimension of the vows has its origin in the reality Paul found in the body of Christ, and it appears on various levels within the religious community itself, in the community of the church, and in the world at large.2 In this circular relationship, the individual and the communal presuppose and cannot do without each other. Every religious community comprises a variety of members who bring their unique potentials, gifts, and perspectives to the living out of their congregation's charism. Each individual has an impact on the evangelical life of the community. Although this impact may be greater for some than for others, no contribution may be regarded as insignificant. Each individual, moreover, is supported by and lives out his or her vows through life in community. Although group will vary from group in external expression, the purpose of each community is a life of discipleship within a common evangelical witness. A community helps to shape individuals' understanding of the evangelical life in many and varied ways (initial and ongoing formation, community structures, common devotional practices). That understanding, that vision, gives meaning and relevance to their individual lives and, in turn, has an effect on the community's self-understanding. This, again, further refines the individuals' experience of religious life. This circular interplay between the individual and the community releases creative energies to help the community remain faithful to its tradition while adapting to the challenges and exigencies of the present. When this adaptation occurs, the community has struck a healthy balance between the individual and the communal expression of the vows. When it does not, something has gone awry that, if not checked, can do serious harm to all involved. " Finding Discrepancies The question arises: What happens when this circular relationship Septentber-October 2001 Billy s Personal and Social is interfered with or in. some way broken up? A number of things can happen. Individual religious may distance themselves psychologically from the community and gradually lose touch with its motivating gospel principles. The community, moreover, may be too rigid (or too flexible) in the way it adapts to the cultural milieu of the day. The lack of vocations and a steady flow of people leaving the community may seriously affect its morale and self-confidence. Secularizing trends in society may also tear away at the fabric of community life and eventually leave little or nothing for members to share. Any of these factors could affect the reciprocal relationship between the individual and communal expression of the VOWS. Added to these possibilities is the gap that can grow between the community's officially stated vision of itself and its actual lifestyle. If the inconsistencies become too numerous, the community may be unable to attract new members and those already within it may become disillusioned or, worse yet, numb to their need for change. To some extent, every community experiences a discrepancy between its ideals and the way it practices them. Any attempt by sinful human beings to embrace the high ideals of radical discipleship falls short in some respect. If the discrepancy is too large, however, community members need to reexamine its structures and processes. The question to ask is whether the gap between their stated ideals and their lifestyle is decreasing or increasing. If decreasing, they need strategies to continue the trend and, if possible, even accelerate it. If the gap is increasing, they need to find ways of reversing the process so that the community can once again "live with itself." If they fail to do so, the circular relationship between the personal and communal expression of the vows will continue to break down, and the community will in time become a loose collection of individuals united only by externals (such as name, shelter, and finances). If this occurs~ it will be difficult, if not impossible, to decrease the gap between their ideals and their lived experience. One way of estimating the discrepancy between vision and practice in a religious community is to keep in mind the various levels of spirituality commonly accepted by scholars: the experiential (level one), the doctrinal (level two), and the academic (level three).3 Since the Second Vatican Council, religious communities have spent much time and effort rewriting their rules and statutes (level two) and studying the history of their founders Re~ie~ for Religious and the nature of their founding charism (level three). At this time they need to put equal effort into level one, the actual living of the vows in the context of community and their founding charism. Since religious communities need a strong, positive continuity between all three levels of spirituality, now is the time to raise level one, the experiential dimension, up to the other two. An Experiential Turn For this shift in emphasis to occur, a retrieval process is needed: Communities need to get back in touch with the circular relationship between the personal and the communal in their expression of the vows and the common life. They could begin by forming small dialogue groups to share their experience of religious life with one another. From there, they could comb their tradition for hints of bold initiatives they might undertake in the life of discipleship. They could ask communities with a similar charism what they have been doing to make their vision of religious life relevant to people's needs. Most importantly, they could rediscover the value of certain forms of prayer in common and choose to make practical daily use of the best of them for uniting the personal and the communal. The question is whether they have the courage to do so and are willing to pay the price that such a decision might entail. To speak of an "experiential turn" in religious life today means that community members need to step back from the swirl of their activities and take stock of their lives on every level: the anthropological, the physical, the emotional, the intellectual, the spiritual, and the social. Once they have done so, they will more easily ponder the ideals they profess and discover if they are living up to them. This means taking steps individually and together and naming what they are 'going through, evaluating their experience against specific criteria, and responding to the evaluation in a responsible, practical way. Another way of making this experiential turn is for religious to seek a proper balance between action and contemplation. Such a balance requires time and effort. Once achieved, however, it helps Every community experiences a discrepancy between its ideals and the way it practices them. September-October 2001 Billy ¯ Personal and Social religious to put petty differences aside and to unite around matters of common concern. Such balance helps community members to recognize the discrepancy between their ideals and their lifestyle, to be disturbed by it, and to do something about it. They become motivated to overcome their past indifference, and they take steps toward personal conversion and the renewal of their institutes. By concentrating on both the personal and the communal aspects of their experience, community members are well on their way toward reintegrating the two and bringing steady incremental change for the better into their individual lives and their communal life. Observations At this point, a number of remarks are in order concerning the effect of this "experiential turn" on religious life and on a community's wimess. 1. Living the vowed life in common contains experiential components that affect religious both as individuals and as a group. Religious should be aware of these components. In this light, chastity is not a mere solitary concern, but a gift to be nourished in a vibrant, caring community. Poverty, in turn, takes both personal and communal forms in the daily life of a religious community, and obedience makes little sense except in terms of an individual's free and loving response to the needs of the common good. Even community life itself must take into account both an individual's and the group's experience of its general regimen. In their response to the call to radical discipleship, religious must keep in touch with their personal and communal experience for their reciprocal interaction to be helpful and creative. 2. When a community gives adequate attention to the personal and communal dimensions of its lived experience, a noticeable change takes place in the quality of its witness to the life of discipleship. This change normally occurs in a gradual, incremental manner. It comes about because members of the community are no longer relating to each other as isolated individuals, but as members of a family with stories to tell, experiences to share, and suggestions to offer. Once individuals have been given the opportunity to share the wide range of their life experiences as religious, there occurs a growing tendency within the community to treat each other with gentleness and respect. The sharing of these experiences gives community .members the impetus to make appropriate changes in Review for Religious the structures of community life so that the gap between their ideals and lifestyle may be reduced. When this happens, community members begin to feel that they have more say in the day-to-day activities of the community. They begin to take ownership of their community and are willing to invest more of their time and energy in its success. 3. To say that the quality of a community's witness to the life of discipleship will rise as a result of its paying close attention to the personal and communal components of its members' lived experience does not mean that the road to renewal will be without problems. On the contrary, buried memories and pent-up frustrations may give way to heated displays of anger. These outbursts should be expected and even wel-comed. When they occur, those venting their anger should be carefully listened to so that the issues behind their raw emotions can be understood. When anger is expressed, the com-munity should not run away from it or feel threatened or intimidated by it, but should confront it, letting the under-lying needs come to the surface and seeking appropriate ways of dealing with them. Some may be so angry at the community that they can see no other alternative than to leave. Others will stay, but may have strong issues to deal with in their personal relationship with the community, even as that community tries hard to change. Still others may wish that the community had never begun to make changes in the first place. Focusing on lived experience elicits different responses from community members. They should all be listened to with care and dealt with sensibly. The community should be aware that its numbers may have to decrease before the quality of its witness begins to rise. 4. After giving its attention to the members' personal and communal experiences, the community needs to weigh matters carefully in the light of its charism and the church's teaching on religious life. As for the charism, the community should examine its The sharing of experiences gives community members the impetus to make appropriate changes in the structures of community life so that the gap between their ideals and lifestyle may be reduced. Septentber-October 2001 Billy ¯ Personal and Social constitutions and statutes to see where the experiences that have surfaced fit into its stated self-understanding. As for the church's teaching, the community should give its attention to the Vatican II documents, the Code of Canon Law, and Pope John Paul's recent apostolic letter Vita consecrata (1996). The goal here would be to strengthen the continuity between the experiential and the doctrinal levels in Christian spirituality, that is, the community's lived experience and official teaching about itself. By comparing the personal and communal experiences of the community (level one) with the pertinent ecclesial (level two) and congregational (level three) documents, the community can gauge which experiences are part of the call to radical discipleship and which are not. Then the members can discuss what elements of their constitutions and statutes need to be adjusted or perhaps even changed. The very rereading of these documents in the light of their experience can be inspiriting. 5. Diminishing the gap between a community's vision and its lived experience is a thorough process. A single attempt, however intensive or prolonged, will do little. Practical arrangements are needed whereby members can examine their personal and communal experiences and then make reasonable proposals for change. These arrangements should not be imposed, but should evolve from within the community. Whatever they may be (weekly or monthly reviews of life, common retreat days, group spiritual direction, dialogue groups with a facilitator, and so forth), they need to be evaluated regularly to ensure that they continue to be perceived as vital to the community. Their purpose is not to turn the community in upon itself in an unhealthy, introverted way, but to enable it to see its shortcomings and take steps to get beyond them. These arrangements should provide continuing support for members' personal lives and their communal life. A Final Observation Healthy communities are always seeking practical ways of narrowing the gap between ideal and practice, in the hope that the gap will one day disappear entirely. An awareness of the circular relationship between the individual and the communal experience can do much toward this goal. Such awareness may include wading through powerful streams of emotion to get to where unmet needs can be understood, acknowledged, and addressed. Review for Religious Religious are called to be signs of hope to the hopeless. To do this, they must be aware of what they themselves are called to become and take positive steps to attain it. Only by confronting first the discrepancy between vision and lifestyle in their own lives will they be able to help others to do the same. Religious cannot remove this discrepancy through their own efforts. They must cooperate with the Spirit in their following of Christ. They need to put complete trust in the Lord's love and concern for them. His Spirit alone will shape them and sustain them. His Spirit alone will carry them into intimate fi'iendship with God. His Spirit alone will reveal to them, and to those whose lives they touch, the kingdom that is within them, in their midst, and still to come. Notes ~ See Dennis J. Billy, "~'ta Consecrata and the Anthropology of the Vows," Review for Religious 58, no. 4 (July-August 1999): 384-392. 2 See ~ta consecrata, §51. 3 See Walter H. Principe CSB, "Toward Defining Spirituality," Studies in Religion / Sciences religieuses 12 (1983): 135-136. There is something made known each autumn in the voices of leaves, red, orange, yellow clear choral anthems conducted by the wind which sends me into the chilled morning my breath a white wraith staring back, touching my face. I open my eyes to thankfulness singing and waving, carelessly brushing away my own apparition too briefly present before I could ask, dear child, who are you. ? C.J. Renz September-October 2001 BRENDAN KNEALE Examining My Conscience: Do I Have an Attitude? ~wehen we first were trained to examine our conscience, probably confined ourselves to matters of stealing, lying, swearing, disobedience, bad thoughts, and fighting. As we grew older and had new responsibilities, we enlarged our scope beyond the commandments of God to the "the commandments of the church"--attendance at Mass and similar requirements. Later, perhaps, we looked beyond action to habit, that is, to. the virtues and the vices--our faith, our humility, our temperance, as well as our anger, gluttony, sloth, and so forth. If we became members of the consecrated life, we added concern about the vows connected to the evangelical counsels. What may lead us to refine our examination of conscience even further is the experience of recidivism, our repeated lapses into the same sins and failings. We suspect a root cause, some factor or factors below the surface that lead us to fall again and again into the same culpable behavior. Another occasion for deeper search might be a friend's calling our attention to some failing of which we were unaware. And we may occasionally sur-prise ourselves by an act of sudden anger or other fault and then wonder, "Where did that come from?" As Isaiah says, "The heart is more devious than any other thing, perverse too." A tendency at this juncture is to claim that we are victims. We may feel that we fall repeatedly or unexpectedly into certain faults Brendan Kneale FSC, a previous contributor (1988), writes from 4403 Redwood Road; Napa, California 94558. Review for Religious because of forces beyond our control. For example, traumas early in life may later induce us to behave neurotically and compul-sively. However, as one prominent non-Catholic psychologist has written, a great value of the Catholic practice of confession (and its attendant examination of conscience) is that it gets us to take personal responsibility for our bad conduct, and not to claim victimhood when it is not justified. Notice that the implication here is that we are dealing with "conscience," not the subconscious. We are not urging personal psychoanalysis, however valuable that may be. Rather, the ques-tion here is about morality, a domain that deals only with actions and omis-sions in which there is at least some degree of improper behavior (or omission), sufficient awareness, and some consent of the will. For exam-ple, it does not take a person addicted to swearing (and currently more or less unmindful of his habitual behavior) much effort to realize that he has set up the habit himself by per- Without a correction of attitude, recidivism and recurring "surprise" behaviors can be expected. sonal choices made long before. He was not, and is not, an unblamable victim. It is only right that he be responsible for the consequences of those choices, that he examine himself on the personal sources and the moral responsibility involved. Our Attitudes The kind of probing advocated here, and requiring a refine-ment of examination, has to do with ~cquired attitudes or mind-sets or preconceptions over which we have supervision. Do we approach situations with an "attitude"? For example, persons brought up in an atmosphere of racial prejudice may need to examine more than their overt actions or even their more or less conscious behavior patterns, and take a close look at their basic attitudes. Repeated lapses into offensive words or deeds may require not only regret but also examination of deep-seated causes, basic attitudes that perhaps were acquired nonsinfully. Otherwise, without a correction of attitude, recidivism and recur-ring "surprise" behaviors can be expected. Of course, there may be other causes for our repeated sins--the three concupiscences-- Septentber-October 2001 Kneale ¯ Examining My Conscience What are our preconceptions about the homeless, the panhandler, the handicapped, the addict, the "great unwashed"? but here we are looking at an .operative cause that may precede (or follow) such passions and that we can bring into examination when we try to analyze our moral behavior. Are we rightly accused of being "judgmental"? Are we saddled with attitudes that damage our relations with God, our neighbor, and our own self?. Is it a false estimate of our present stance--whether we are in youth, maturity, old age--that is the source of our sassiness, bossiness, crotcheti-ness? Does our ironic view of things lead to hurtful sarcasm? Does our cynicism lead to real contempt? Insofar as our culture shapes our attitudes or outlooks on such matters as promiscuity, illness, consumerism, status, race, authority, work, time, privilege, food, fun, humor, recreation, comfort, entitle-ments, adventure, celebrity, revenge, violence, death, and so forth, we should search to see if these attitudes need revision as part of our effort to turn away from gen-uinely culpable thoughts or actions that we notice in ourselves. Typical questions for ourselves might be: Has my culturally induced attitude toward illness led to hypochondria or to an objectionable fussiness? Does an attitude toward entitlements make me an unpleasant person or a seeker of unjust privilege? Do people find my attitude threatening? To be sure, our culture induces many good attitudes--about democracy, equality, service, private property, education, nonex-ploitation, rewarding merit, conservation, and so forth. We should look at these good attitudes, too, in order to check whether we have blocked some of the good ones along with the bad. A recommended test of our attitudes is to ask what our out-look is on cultural icons, TV heroes, and popular fictional char-acters. Do we find ourselves adopting the mentality of, say, the headline-hunting celebrity, the compromised politician, the self-indulgent artist, the know-it-all intellectual, the snobbish sophisticate, the ruthless tycoon, the swaggering athlete, the gos-sipy columnist,~ the rash liberal, the entrenched traditionalist? If we are quick to praise one of these, why 'is that? Do we almost unconsciously try to shape our self-image to be like them? On the Review for Religious other hand, of course, we need to look at our inner view of those whom our culture tends to despise. What are our preconceptions about (and our resultant behaviors toward) the homeless, the panhandler, the handicapped, the addict, the "great unwashed"? Motivating Ourselves It is probably not easy to refine our examination of conscience to these levels--and surely not to levels beyond them. Why make the effort? Such an examination is one way to get closer to a state of "justice beyond that of the scribes and phar-isees," that is, to grow in the justification talked about by St. Paul. When I think of "justification," I think of what carpenters and mechanics mean by the word, namely, a fitting together and good lining up of items in their handiwork. If these items are all squared away, then they are fully "justified." The Pauline usage seems analogous. He sees God giving us the grace to be squared away, to be right with God, to be righteous, in perfect relation with Him. This justification or righteousness is initially and rad-ically conferred in baptism and is capable of growing and being perfected. In the process, the basic need is for us to adjust our attitudes to those of Christ, to "put on the mind of Christ" (to accomplish literally a metanoia, a change of mind for the better) and thereby get closer to a final justification or righteousness. In the case of Mary Immaculate, of course, such perfection was unimpeded. Since she was conceived without darkness of intellect, weakness of will, or disorder among her passions, it fol-lowed that her attitudes needed no further rectification, and so her growth in holiness and her ability to overcome temptation were rapid. In our case, we need the special help of fasting, prayers, and sacraments. The sacraments help us to pursue a perfection like hers. And a penetrating examination of conscience helps us profit more from those sacraments. The purpose here is not to induce scrupulosity (which is gen-erally a sign of pride), but to get at factors behind or beyond the routine examination lists of commandments, virtues, and vices-- important and revealing though they are. Surely the capital sins of pride, covetousness, lust, anger, gluttony, envy, and sloth deserve scrutiny vis-~l-vis ourselves. But, if we fail often in their regard, we may need to look further into our unexamined lives, into those attitudes that we adopt as normative and that stoke September-October 2001 Kneale ¯ Examining ~Iy Conscience the fires of our behavior. The basic question: Is my attitude that of Christ? Attitudes lead to priorities in our values, values lead to our choices, choices to our actions, actions to habits, habits to deeds of consequence. Each element of this sequence can be conducive to something Christian or to something not Christian; each deserves inspection. Confession to Sumac Anonymous before the frost, the sumac, frozen, blooms resplendent on the freeway grade, innocent of motives, yet sensuous, seductive. Red, orange, or scarlet - blood, a Rothko, Rauschenberg. What it is and must be one, with no apologies. Review for Religqous The beauty of the trees accuses me. My greater gifts I squander by my sins; in dying autumn color they proclaim obedience unto death. Rebellious, though, I languish in the dark. Ed Block J. NEUNER Mother Teresa's Charism On 26 July 1999 the cause for the beatification of Mother Teresa was officially opened in Calcutta. Pope John Paul II had granted an exception to the general regulation that such proceedings can be taken up only five years after the death of the Servant of God. Mother Teresa had died only on 5 September 1997. The early inauguration of the proceedings was granted on account of the worldwide request to have her officially recognized by the church as a model of compassionate love reaching out to all strata of society, especially to the rejected and exploited. For the proceedings in Calcutta, all the documents connected with her life and work had to be collected.1 They opened insights not only into the incredible complexity of her work spread over all continents during a short time but also into her personal life, which had remained hidden from the public and, to a great extent, even from her own community. They reveal many details of the development of the Missionaries of Charity (MC), but also the hidden sources of Mother Teresa's untiring work and inspiring personality, which fascinated people of all strata of society and of all religions. These few pages are an attempt to present this inner sphere, God's work in her heart, which bore so much fruit in her life and work. J. Neuner SJ, who knew Mother Teresa, writes from Sanjeevan Ashram; 38 Sassoon Road; Pune 411 001; India. September~ October 2001 Neuner ¯ Mother Teresa's Charism "I Thirst" Among the Missionaries 10 September 1946 is celebrated as the birthday of the congregation. Mother Teresa had come to India as a novice of the Loreto Sisters. She was very happy in her community and as a teacher in Loreto, Entally (Calcutta). A totally unexpected experience came to her on that day in the litde train climbing up from Siliguri to Darjeeling: the thirst of Jesus and a call to give her life in service to the poor and rejected in the slums. She was deeply disturbed: it might have been a temptation of the devil. But her confessor was convinced of the divine inspiration and told her to communicate it to Archbishop E Perrier of Calcutta. The archbishop hesitated more than a year and kept her waiting--a painful time--but finally supported her application to Rome to leave the Loreto Sisters and start her own congregation. According to her constitutions, it is the aim of the congregation "to quench the infinite thirst of Jesus on the cross for love of souls by the profession of the evangelical counsels and the wholehearted and free service of the poorest of the poor" (Const 3).z This twofold aim is the ever recurring topic of her instructions. But only towards the end of her life does she speak more explicitly about her transforming experience. On 25 March 1993 she writes to all the sisters, brothers, and priests of the Missionaries a letter that is "very personal" and "comes from Mother's heart." She is deeply concerned for her society not to lose our early love, especially in the future after Mother leaves you . The time has come for me to speak openly on the gift God gave me on Sept. 10th, to explain as fully as I can what means to me the thirst of Jesus. For me the thirst of Jesus is something so intimate, so I have felt shy until now to speak to you about September 10th . Everything in MC exists only to satiate Jesus. His words on the wall of every MC chapel are not from the past only, but alive here and now, spoken to you . Jesus Himself must be the one to say to you "I thirst." Hear your own name, not just once, every day. ¯. "I thirst" is something much deeper than Jesus just saying "I love you." Unless you know deeply inside that Jesus thirsts for you, you cannot begin to know what He wants to be for you and what He wants you to be for Him. This personal union with Jesus must become fruitful in the service of the poor--the Missionaries' fourth vow: The heart and soul of MC is only this: the thirst of Jesus' " heart hidden in the poor. This is the source of every part of Review for Religious MC life. : satiating the living Jesus in our midst is our Society's only purpose. The two dimensions of M. Teresa's charism, the intimate union with Jesus and the' work for the poor, can never be separated: "I thirst" and "you did it to me," remember always to connect the two . Do not underestimate our practical means, the work for the poor, no matter how small and humble; they make our life something beautiful for God. The poor are the medium through which we touch Jesus: They are God's most precious gift to our Society--Jesus' hidden presence so near, so able to touch. (Srs 25.3.93) Mother Teresa sees her vocation, the life and work of her sisters, as part of the mission of the church, to participate in the saving passion of Jesus. The Epistle to the Colossians understands the trials of the Apostle as the continuation of Jesus' saving passion: "I am rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ's affliction for the sake of his body which is the church" (Col 1:24). This participation in Christ's redemptive passion is realized in the mission of her sisters: Try to increase your knowledge of the mystery of redemption. This knowledge will lead you to love, and love will make you share through your sacrifice in the passion of Christ. My dear children, without suffering our work would just be social work very good and helpful, but it would not be the work of Jesus Christ, not part of the redemption. Jesus wanted to help us by sharing our life, our loneliness, our agony and death. All that He has taken upon Himself and has carried it in the darkest night. Only by being one with us has He redeemed us. We are able to do the same. All the desolation of the poor people, not only their material poverty but their spiritual destitution, must be redeemed, and we must have our share in it. Pray thus when you find it hard: I wish to live in this world which is so far from God, which has turned so much from the light of Jesus, to help them--to take upon myself something.of their suffering. Yes, my dear children, let us share the sufferings of the poor, for only by being one with them can we redeem them; that is bringing God into their lives and bringing them to God. (Srs Ist Friday, July 61) She herself had to experience the pain of poverty in a very personal manner. We have a diary of the early months of her new life when she was struggling to find a place for her small group and had to experience the trials of helplessness. Mostly the notes of the September~ October 2001 Neuner ¯ Mother Teresa's Charism booklet are factual, the daily happenings. Once they have a very personal ring: Today I learned a good lesson: the poverty of the poor must often be very hard for them. When I went rounding, looking for a home, I walked and walked till my legs and my arms ached. I thought how they must also ache in body and soul looking for home, food, help. Then the temptation grew strong: the buildings of Loreto came rushing into my mind, all the beautiful things and comforts, the people they mix with, in a word, everything. "You have only to say one word and all this will be yours again," the tempter kept on saying. Of free choice, my God, and out of love for you I desire to remain and do whatever be your Holy Will in my regard. I did not allow a single tear to come. Even if I suffer more than now, I still want to do your Holy Will. This is the dark night of the birth of the Society. My God, give me courage now, this moment, to persevere in following your call. (Notebook 16.2.49) It was her charism not only to work for the poor, but to share in their pain and so to have her part in Jesus' redemptive work. But, even more, she was also called to share in the pain of his thirst. How Mother Teresa Lived Her Charism Thirst is painful longing. Mother Teresa saw it in Jesus on the cross, and her life was devoted to satiate it. It became her most personal vocation to share in it through the lasting darkness that enwrapped her life. Some experience of darkness is part of every spiritual life. She knew it also in her earlier years. At the time of preparing for her final vows, she wrote to her spiritual guide that her life was "not strewed with roses . Rather I have more the darkness as my fellow friend . I simply offer myself to Jesus" (Early letters 8.2.3 7). These were passing experiences. But, with the beginning of her new life in the service of the poor, darkness came on her with oppressive power. In the diary of those early months mentioned above, we have another very personal entry: Today, my God, what torture of loneliness. I wonder how long my heart can suffer this . Tears rolled and rolled. Everyone sees my weakness. My God, give me courage to fight self and the tempter. (Notebook 28.2.49) Father C. Van Exem was her spiritual guide at the time. She had told him to destroy all letters--so we have no letters to him Review for Religious from that time. However, he had asked her to turn to the archbishop, who in the early years--before her own constitutions were approved and she could take vows in her new congregation-- was actually the superior of the young community. She turned to him in growing confidence: I want to say to you something that I do not know to express. I am longing--with painful longing--to be all for God, to be holy in such a way that Jesus can live His life to the full in me. The more I want Him, the less I am wanted. I want to love Him as He has not been loved--and yet there is that separation, that terrible emptiness, that feeling of absence of God. For more than four years I find no help . I am not writing you as His Grace--but as the Father of my soul, for to you and from you I have not hidden anything. Tell me what I should do~I want to obey at any cost. (AP 8.2.56) And again: There is so much contradiction in my soul, such deep longing for God, so deep that it is painful, a suffering continual--yet not wanted by God, repulsed, empty, no faith, no love, no zeal . Heaven means nothing to me, it looks like an empty Place. yet the torturing longing for God. (AP 28.2.57) One day, wfien the archbishop celebrated the requiem Mass for Pope Pius XII in the cathedral, she asked for a sign: There and then disappeared that long darkness, that pain of loss, of loneliness, of that strange suffering of ten years. Today my soul is filled with love, with joy untold, with an unbroken union of love. (AP 17.10.58) Still, soon she has to write: Our Lord thought it better for me to be in the tunnel--so He is gone again, leaving me alone. I am grateful to Him for the month of love He gaye me. (AP 16.11.58) She received new life through Father T. Picachy, at the time rector of St Xavier's College, later archbishop of Calcutta and cardinal. Besides personal letters to him, we have also two documents written at his request (undated, but probably written in 1959 or 1960), in which she presents her state of mind in a coherent manner) In prayer form she writes of her closeness to Jesus in earlier years, yet now, Jesus, I go the wrong way. They say people in hell suffer eternal pain because of the loss of God . In my soul I feel just this terrible pain of. loss, of God not wanting me, of God not being God, of God not really existing. Jesus, please September-October 2001 Neuner ¯ Mother Teresa's Charism forgive the blasphemy--I have been told to write everything--that darkness that surrounds me on all sides¯ I can't lift my soul to God: No light, no inspiration enters my souk And yet, though there is no faith, no love, no trust, there is so much pain, the pain of longing, the pain of not being wanted. I want God with all the powers of my soul, and yet there is that terrible separation . I no longer pray, my soul is not with you, and yet, when alone in the streets--I talk to you for hours of my longing for you. This darkness, however, does not hinder her work: [Though] the dark holds no joys, no attention, no zeal . . . I do my best, I spend myself. I am more convinced that the work is not mine. I do not doubt that it was you who called me with such great love and force. It was you . . . it is you even now--but I have no faith. In spite of the lasting pain, she is ready to accept the darkness as her special way to satiate Jesus' thirst: If my pain and suffering, my darkness and separation give you a drop of consolation, my own Jesus, do with me as you wish. ¯. I am your own. Imprint on my soul and life the suffering of your heart . If my separation from you brings others to you and in their love and company you find joy, my Jesus, I am willing with all my heart to suffer all that I suffer . Your happiness is all that I want . I want to satiate your thirst with every single drop of blood that you can find in me . Please do not take the trouble to return soon. I am ready to wait for you for all eternity. (Pi, undated) Experiences of darkness are found in the lives of many mystics, but it may be difficult to find a parallel to the lifelong night that enwrapped Mother Teresa. It must be seen in the context of her particular mission. It came to her at the time when she embarked on her new life in the service of the abandoned. From the beginning she had to experience not only their material poverty and helplessness, but also their abandonment. This same darkness, however, was for her also the special way in which she shared in Jesus' saving passion. It was the redeeming experience of her life when she realized that the night of her heart was the special share she had in Jesus' passion: I have begun to love my darkness for I believe now that it is a part, a very small part, of Jesus' darkness and pain on earth. Review for Religious It is the spiritual side of her work: Today I really feel a deep joy that Jesus can't go any more through the agony but that He wants to go through it in me. More than ever I surrender myself to Him, more than ever I will be at His disposal. (undated) Thus we see that the darkness was actually the mysterious link that united her to Jesus. It is the contact of intimate longing for God. Nothing else can fill her mind. Such longing is possible only through God's own hidden presence. We cannot long for something that is not intimately close to us. Thirst is more than absence of water. It is not experienced by stones, but only by living beings that depend on water. Who knows more about living water, the person who opens the water tap daily without much thinking, or the thirst-tortured traveler in the desert in search for a spring? The darkness and the painful longing for the Jove of God became also her safeguard in a danger that could have harmed her mission: her ever growing popularity, the admiration she received all over the world, the numerous rewards bestowed on her. They could not touch her heart, which was absorbed in an unfulfilled longing for God. When she had to go to Manila to receive the Magsaysay award, she wrote: "I had to go to Manila . It was one big sacrifice. Why does He give me all these but not Himself?. I want Him, not His gift or creatures" (10.9.62). The eyes of the whole world were focused on her when she received the Nobel prize. She thinks only of the poor: "Hundreds of letters still keep coming. The reward has helped many people to find the way to the poor" (9.1.80). And later: "The year offered many opportunities to satisfy the thirst of Jesus for love of souls. It has been a year filled with the passion of Christ. I do not know which thirst is greater, His, or mine for Him" (15.12.80). Mother Teresa's charism comprises both the contemplative and active dimensions of Christian life. Contemplative and Active Mother Teresa's charism comprises both the contemplative and active dimensions of Christian life. The congregation aims at September-October 2001 Neuner *Motber Teresa's Charism quenching Jesus' thirst by the union with him in "the profession of the evangelical counsels and wholehearted and free service of the poorest of the poor" (Const 3). From the beginning she insisted on their inseparable complementarity. Both dimensions must be realized by every member of the congregation. Though in later years she established contemplative branches for sisters (1976) and brothers (1979), she insisted on the oneness of the society: ONE Society, bound by ONE Constitution, with the SAME vows and spirit, with ONE Superior General" (Const i1). "We are consecrated to Him. Jesus has chosen us for Himself. What joy is ours that we can at all times be in close contact with Christ in His distressing disguise" (Srs 1 st Friday, June 61). This mutual penetration of personal union with Christ and actual service of the poor is rooted in the gospel. Jesus himself was united with the Father in a unique manner and made this union fruitful in his daily care for the people. In his message the love of God, whom we cannot see, is tested in the love of neighbor, whom we see. Also the council has emphasized that the union of the self-gift of God and of apostolic concern for the neighbor are part of all religious life: it includes listening to God's word and engaging in his work. "The members of each community should combine contemplation with apostolic love. By the former they adhere to God in mind and heart, by the latter they strive to associate themselves with the work of redemption and to spread the Kingdom of God" (PC 5). Thus Mother Teresa does not accept the frequent division of religious communities as active or contemplative. Of the contemplative sisters she demands, along with their duties of "eucharistic adoration, contemplation, silence, solitude, fasting, penance," also "going out to the spiritually poorest of the poor for two or three hours a day and proclaiming the word of God by our presence and spiritual works of mercy" (Const 5). For the contemplative sisters, "going out" is not meant as a relaxation of the severe seclusion: "Never miss it--for you it is a temptation, for this is our fourth vow" (ContS 20.10.82). Contemplation does not consist in seclusion from the world but closeness to God in every sphere of life. According to the "Spiritual Directory," which contains the guidelines of her spirituality, "a contemplative is a person who lives twenty-four hours with Jesus. and all she does is to Jesus through Mary and Joseph" (Intro. to Section B). Review for Religious She also considers her active sisters contemplatives because their entire life and work consist in beirlg close to Jesus, whom they meet in the poor: "you did it for me." She wanted her whole work to be understood in this perspective even by outsiders. When she received the Nobel prize she said it before the whole world: We are not really social workers--we may be doing social work in the eyes of the people, but we are really contemplatives in the heart of the world, for we are touching the body of Christ 24 hours. We live 24 hours in His presence. All are invited to do the same by truly loving each other, beginning at home: How much we do does not matter., but how much love we put in that action, how much we do to Him in the person we are serving. (Oslo 11.12.79) This is the spirituality she tries to communicate to her sisters in countless instructions. She never proposes a systematic method--in her own dark night it would have been of no help. She tries to lead them to total surrender to Jesus. Four features seem particularly prominent in this spirituality. It begins with a firm decision to free ourselves from all clinging to our own needs, our ambitions: The first step is to will it . My progress in holiness depends on God and myself--on God's grace and my will . Into this "I will" I must put all my energy. A saint is "a resolute soul . The resolution to be a saint costs much. I will despoil myself of all that is not God; I will strip my heart and empty it of all created things." (Srs 1st Friday, Oct. 60) The readiness to renounce self opens the heart to a life of loving service. Mother Teresa finds the inspiring example of loving, humble service in Mary, who holds a central place in her spirituality. Her life overflows with God's generous gifts, yet it is totally empty of any form of conceit. She conceives Jesus, who is her child, but she knows that he belongs to the world. Her entire life is drawn into the mystery of God's love giving Jesus, his Son, to the world. Her closeness to Jesus "engenders in her zeal and charity, zeal to give Jesus through works of charity. . The fruit of this union was service of love for the neighbor . She only thought how to serve." So she becomes the model for the Missionaries of Charity: "This life of Mary is so much like ours."' The sisters, too, are united to Jesus: Septentber-October 2001 Neuner ¯ Mother Teresa's Charism Now that Jesus and I are one, has Jesus in me given me that zeal and charity as the fruitof this union? . . . Do I really go to the poor as the handmaid of the Lord, filled with Jesus, to give only Jesus to the poor I serve? Is my service to the poor devoted, tender, intimate? Do I [do] to them what Mary did to Elisabeth? (31 Oct. 66) We may still ask how she could teach her sisters to pray, for she confesses frequently that in her darkness she was unable to pray. She never taught a method, but wishes her sisters to learn the simplicity of personal union with Jesus: "A Missionary This cleaving of Charity who is not united heart and soul with Christ will not be able to live the spirit of total to each other, surrender, loving trust, and cheerfulness." The mere recital of prayers has no meaning: "To pray the prayer Jesus and I, means to be completely united to Jesus in such a way is prayer, as to allow Him to pray in us, with us, for us. This cleaving to each other, Jesus and I, is prayer." This union with Jesus is realized equally in the silence of the chapel and in daily work: "Learn to pray the work as Jesus did in Nazareth for 30 years . Learn from Jesus to pray and allow Him to pray in you, and put the fruit of prayer into living action of love in loving one another as Jesus loved each one of you" (Srs 27.7.83). We only need a humble and pure heart: "We could see God in our Sisters and the poor we serve. Is it not wonderful that we could be real contemplatives 24 hours if only our hearts were humble and pure?" (Srs Aug. 84). Finally the life and work of a Missionary of Charity must be filled with joy. Such was Jesus' desire: "He wants to share His joy with the Apostles: that my joy may be in you." Joy is not a matter of temperament, it does not consist in comfort: "The service of God and of souls is always hard." But true love brings joy: "A joyful heart is the result of a heart burning with love." Joy not only enriches our life but is "a net of love by which you can catch many souls." It is vital in the life of the sisters: "A cheerful disposition is one of the main virtues required in a Missionary of Charity" (Srs Easter, Apr. 64). The Four Vows The concrete form in which Missionaries of Charity live their union with Jesus are the four vows. In their profession they "bind themselves by the four vows to Jesus Christ Review for Religious with undivided love in chastity through freedom in poverty in total surrender in obedience in wholehearted and free service to Him in the distressing disguise of the poorest of the poor. (Const 36) In the early constitutions of 1954, Mother Teresa still followed the traditional order of the three evangelical counsels beginning with poverty. But the core of her charism is the total union with Christ expressed in the vow of chastity. She explains the coherence of the four vows: The vow of chastity makes us cleave to Christ, and the fruit of our union with Christ is the vow of charity (4th vow). We must love to be pure, we must use every means to keep ourselves pure, body and soul; Jesus must be able to use us fully. To enable the vow of charity to grow we make the vows of poverty and obedience; just as a lamp cannot burn without oil, so the vow of charity cannot live without the vows of poverty and obedience; and all three vows are because of chastity. So live the vow of chastity. (Srs 27.6.65) Poverty is needed in the total self-gift to Jesus: "To be able to be all for Jesus, to love Him with undivided love, we need a pure heart purified by the freedom of poverty." Poverty is not primarily economic want but an attitude of sharing, self-giving. Mother Teresa liked the paradox: "The less we have [for ourselves] the more we can give [of ourselves]. In possessing Jesus we possess everything. That is why we can give more, because we can give Jesus" (Srs 23.1.82). "Jesus saved us through His poverty: He made Himself poor for your sake so that through His poverty you may become rich (2 Co 8:9): We too must become poor for love of Jesus and the poor we serve. For to be able to.understand the poor, to be able to proclaim the Good News to the poor, you must know what poverty is." After enumerating the legal implications of poverty, she continues: "Our poverty should be true Gospel poverty--gentle, tender, glad, open-hearted, always ready to give an expression of love. Poverty is love before it is renunciation" (Srs 23.1.82). Similarly obedience is part of our self-gift to Jesus: "We have to belong to Jesus fully, in total surrender without any reservation, for He alone is worthy of our love. If we really fully belong to Him we must be at His disposal that He may be free to use us and to do with us whenever and whatever He wants--through our Superiors, whoever they may be" (Srs 8.7.76). Obedience is the most beautiful September-October 2001 Neuner ¯ Mother Teresa's Charism --490- offering to God because our will is the only gift of God which is our own and which God will never take by force. He will accept it only when we surrender it" (Srs 2.1.87). This is a sublime vision of religious life. We are, however, not surprised that Mother Teresa had to experience disappointments. The life of the sisters is hard, the work in the slums is dangerous. Day after day the sisters have to work together with people of all strata of society. Each time she received the news that a sister left the community, she felt deep pain. Poverty also caused many problems. Most sisters came from simple surroundings and had never handled large amounts of money. Most disturbing were reports about the disunity among sisters, about young superiors who were not sensitive to the feelings of the sisters, about jealousies, offensive language, hurting, humiliating. In a letter from the hospital she wrote: "You do not know what terrible pain these words cause to my heart . I have to take five different medicines for my physical heart, but I long for the best medicine, your love for one another" (Srs 27.10.67). All such texts in her letters must be read against the background of Mother Teresa's joy and appreciation of her sisters, of their spiritual growth and their faithful work, of which her letters are full. Still, they point at some limitations in the development of her Society. There is first her own traditional background. She received her own religious formation in the firm disciplinary frame to which young religious had to conform, under the authority of the superiors. It became a great help for her: discipline and firm authority were absolutely necessary for the fast-spreading communities. But community life and the work for the slum people also demanded initiative, creativity, and much personal responsibility. More training in community relations and in dealing with difficult situations was needed. Mother Teresa was very much concerned with the formation of the young sisters. But with the growing number of novices--there were over a hundred in the crowded house in Calcutta--it became ever more difficult. In the chapter of 1997, in which she laid down her responsibility as superior general, it was admitted that more ongoing formation was needed for the sisters, mostly for superiors. Connected with the training is also the almost exclusive spiritual motivation of her sisters for their personal and community life and for their work. The love of Jesus Christ surely remains the firm basis of the entire life of the Missionaries of Charity. But God's Review for Religious grace becomes operative within the frame of human life, personal and social. Formation must include the entire person and the concrete social conditions. The emphasis on authority resulted also in a centralization that created difficulties in the growing complexity of administration and work. This obviously is not the place to discuss these tensions in detail. They lead us, however, to the underlying problem: How can a charismatic vision be realized in a concrete organization? The problem became even more acute with regard to the co-workers. The Co-Workers The work of the sisters in the slums naturally demanded much collaboration with many people, men and women of different strata of society, including Hindus and Muslims. It gradually developed into the organized group of Co-Workers. In the introduction to the constitutions we read: From the early days of the Society, the Missionaries of Charity attracted lay people in every part of the world who wished to have some part in the work of loving service to God in the person of the needy. Out of this group grew the international association of the Co-Workers of Mother Teresa, whose Constitutions were blessed by His Holiness, Pope Paul VI, on 29th March 1969. Mother Teresa never considered the Co-Workers as an organized extension of her work. She saw in them the spreading of her community into all strata of society. The important thing was not merely their work but that they shared in the spirit. In one of her letters to them she wrote: I can give you "no better message than copy of one of the rules which applies to each one of us." Then she quotes from the (old) constitution, no. 92: As each one of this Society is to become a Co-Worker with Christ in the slums, each ought to understand what God and the Society expects of her. Let Christ radiate and live His life in her and through her in the slums. Let the poor, seeing her, be drawn to Christ and invite Him to enter their homes and their lives. Let the sick and suffering find in her a real angel of comfort and consolation. Let the little ones in the streets cling to her because she reminds them of Him, the friend of the little ones. (CoW 20 Apr. 66) From Co-Workers she expects the same attitude as from sisters: September-October 2001 Neuner ¯ Motber Teresa's Charism to know the poor, to love the poor, to serve the poor (see CoW 4.10.74). With the growth of the Society, the association of the Co- Workers also spread. It was inevitable that it developed into a full-fledged organization on the pattern of modern enterprises¯ Was this the spirit of her congregation? She felt the need to take a firm step: As we depend on Divine Providence for our needs and those of the poor, I feel that fund-raising and regular monthly contributions are against our spirit. Therefore we do not give any person or organization permission to have fund-raising or collection of contributions for our work. (CoW 27.9.81) An even more radical decision seemed necessary: "We do not need the Co-Workers to function as an organization" with governing body and officers, links and bank accounts. I do not want money to be spent for Newsletters and travel of Co-Workers . If you see anyone raising money in my name, please stop them . Let us remain united in the heart of Jesus through Mary as one spiritual family. My gift to you is to allow you to share with us in God's work, to be carriers of God's love in a spirit of prayer and sacrifice. (CoW 30.8¯93) Shordy before her death, after she handed over the government of the Society to her successor, she was once more disturbed. Was her drastic decision right? ,Once more she writes to the Co- Workers: "Do you feel the need to have an international link through a Newsletter? Do you like to have a national link as well? . ¯ . I would like to hear from you" (CoW Easter 97). Again the problem: How can a charism be organized? Charism and Institution We have tried to trace the main features of Mother Teresa's charism. She had to make it live in her Society. Can a charismatic vision be institutionalized? We know of the phenomenal development of the Missionaries of Charity during fifty and more years, spreading over the world, established in more than a hundred countries, animated by the same spirit. We have seen also, very briefly, the problems of living this life personally, in communities, in daily work and monotony, in the complexity of modern society. The charism must always remain a deeply personal commitment to Jesus Christ, but it must unfold in personal growth and in Review for Religious community and must be lived in the modern world, to bear fruit in our society. It needs planning and organization. Is this possible? The problem is common to all religious communities. One thinks of the ideas of poverty so deeply understood and radically lived by St. Francis--how difficult it was for these ideas to be institutionalized in different forms in the church of the Middle Ages! We may ask even more radically: How did Jesus himself succeed in institutionalizing his vision of a redeemed humanity in God's kingdom, of a new society comprising all people in solidarity and love, with God as the center and supporting power? Vatican Council II tells us that the church "received the mission of proclaiming and establishing the kingdom of Christ and of God among all nations." It could, however, not identify the church with the kingdom, but had to add the humble statement that "she is the seed and beginning of this kingdom on earth" (LG §5). The growth of God's kingdom on earth remains the task of Jesus' followers in all new generations, in ever new situations. This is also the legacy of Mother Teresa to her congregation: persistently to strive for the realization of her charism and make it fruitful for our society. Notes 1 Most of the documents, and the copyright ©, belong to the Missionaries of Charity; some documents belong to the archbishop of Calcutta and to St. Xavier's College, Calcutta. 2 Abbreviations: AP-Letters to Archbishop Perrier. Const-Consdtutions of the Missionaries of Charity. ContS-Letters to the Contemplative Sisters. CoW-Letters to the Co-Workers. LG-Lumen gentium, Constitution on the Church. PC-Perfeaae caritatis, Decree on the Renewal of the Religious Life. H-Letters to Father T. Picachy SJ. Srs-Letters to the Sisters. 3 Some of the texts in which Mother Teresa reveals her darkness to Father T. Picachy, at the time rector of St. Xavier's College, have been presented by A. Huart SJ in Vidyajyofi: Journal of Theological Reflection (VJTR) 64 (September 2000): 654-659, and also below in this issue of Review for Religious. September-Oaober 2001 ALBERT HUART Mother Teresa: Joy in the Night The lasting impression that Mother Teresa, Missionary of arity, left with those who met her was one of radiant joy-fulness. Who has not observed, at least in photos, her homely face all wrinkled up in smiles as she fondles a baby orphan, greets a girl in rags, or comforts a dying beggar? How, people wondered, can a person daily immersed in the depths of human misery keep going with such unflagging joy-giving vitality? Yet very few, even among her close associates, knew that for many years Mother radi-ated this joy from a heart plunged in excruciating darkness. The priests who were her close spiritual confidants have almost all departed from this world. I cannot claim to have been one of them. Yet, during a retreat that I directed for her sisters and for herself, she confided to me the pain and bewilderment that enveloped her. I was at the time a young priest with little experience. During my theological studies, I had gone through the writings of John of the Cross. Persuaded as I was that she was a true woman of God, I surmised that I was in the presence of the Dark Night of the Spirit that this great doctor of the mystical life so powerfully describes. I was confirmed in this impression when Mother added (I quote from memory): "The strange thing is: when I speak to my sisters and other people about God, Jesus, the presence of Jesus Albert Huart SJ published a different version of thisarticle in Vidyajyoti, New Delhi. He is assistant to the provincial of his Calcutta province, and his address is Xavier Sadan; 9/3 Middleton Row; Calcutta 700 071; India. Review for Religious in the poor, I cannot fail to realize that the message passes and evokes a deep response in them. But, within my own heart, it is all darkness." As I listened to her, the image that emerged in my mind was that of a chalet basking in warm bright sunshine, surrounded by lush vegetation and flowers, yet, within, all dark and cold. What I surmised in this brief encounter was confirmed many years later, after her death. I then had the opportunity of going though the letters addressed by Mother to Father Lawrence Trevor Picachy, a Jesuit priest then residing in St. Xavier's College, Calcutta, subsequently bishop of Jamshedpur, archbishop of Calcutta, and a cardinal. A folder containing these letters was found among the cardinal's papers after his death. It remained unopened until the beginning of Mother's beatification process. These letters are the one written source on which this article is based. All the signposts mentioned by John of the Cross for ascer-taining the Night are strikingly in evidence. As he describes it, when a person generously responds to grace in her spiritual pilgrimage, a time comes when she is led by the Spirit through a desert--often in two stages (which may be consecutive or overlapping). The first one--the Night of the Senses--generally follows an initial period of easy and joyful prayer. It is felt mostly at the level of the emotions and feelings. These gradually go dry and numb, at times becoming distressingly painful. The second--the Night of the Spirit--goes deeper, even to the deepest point of the human spirit. Not many are led through this (though perhaps more than we might think). The persons suffer greatly, mostly from an acute sense that God is absent or has actually abandoned them even though they have an ever growing painful longing for God. Initially they may be tempted to give in to discouragement, attributing their condition to their own sinfulness and unfaithfulness. God may send a soul friend to give them courage and hope and to help them recognize God at work within this darkness--as for some years Father Picachy did in Mother Teresa's case. According to John of the Cross, the chief signs for distin-guishing this Night of the Spirit from psychological depression or spiritual sluggishness are: (1) Most importantly: the person is unremitting in her commitment to duty and to her mission, even if she encounters trials and failures in these. (2) Although the per- Septentber-October 2001 Huart * Mother Teresa son experiences prayer as dark, painful, and fruitless, she yet feels drawn to prayer¯ (3) Gradually, underneath the darkness that weighs on her, she discovers a quiet and growing spring of peace¯ (4) Later, when she ultimately emerges from this dark trial (which may take years), she looks back on it as a most blessed and life-giving period of her life. John of the Cross sings: "Oh Night that was my guide, / fairer by far than dawn when stars grow dim! / Night that has unified / the Lover and the Bride, / transforming the beloved into Him." The extracts from Mother's letters quoted below may give the impression of a litany of gloom¯ In fact, such cries of distress only come up in flashes among a great deal of no-nonsense disposal of business at hand and joyful accounts of God's grace and help in the work for the poor. .~.:.:. ¯ "In the darkness . . . Lord, my God, who am I that you should forsake me? The child of your love - and now become as the most hated one. The one - You have thrown away as unwanted - unloved. I call, I cling, I want, and there is no one to answer. ¯ Where I try to raise my thoughts to heaven, there is such con-victing emptiness that those very thoughts return like sharp knives and hurt my very soul. Love - the word - it brings nothing. I am told God lives in me - and yet the reality of darkness & coldness & emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul . "The whole time smiling - Sisters and people pass such remarks - they think my faith, trust, and love are filling my very being & that the intimacy with God and union to His will must be absorbing my heart - Could they but know - and how my cheer-fulness is the cloak by which I cover the emptiness and misery. In spite of all, this darkness and emptiness is not as painful as the longing for God . "When You asked to imprint Your Passion on my heart, is this the answer? If this brings You glory, if You get a drop of joy from this, if souls are brought to You, - if my suffering satiates Your thirst - there I am, Lord. With joy I accept all to the end of life. I will smile at your Hidden Face always" (undated). ¯ "If you knew.what I am going through - He is destroying everything in me - but I hold no claim in myself- He is free to do anything. Pray that I keep smiling at Him" (26 January 1957). ¯ "You must have prayed much for me - I have found real Review for Religious happiness in suffering - but the pain is sometimes unbearable - You don't know how miserable and nothing I am. Pray that I may love God with a love - with which he has never been loved before. What a foolish desire" (28 June 1958). ¯ "I did not know that love could make one suffer so much - that was suffering of loss - this is of longing - of pain human but caused by the divine. Pray for me" (6 November 1958). ¯ "I want God with all the power of my soul - and yet between us there is terrible separation. I don't pray any longer. I utter words of Community prayers . . . and yet when alone in the streets - I talk to You for hours - How intimate are those words - and yet so empty for they leave me far from You" (3 September 1959). ¯ "Pray for me - that 1 may not refuse God - It comes to the breaking point - then it does not break - I wish I could tell or write what I long to tell - but I find no words" (25 October 1959). ¯ "Pray for me, Father. Inside of me there is so much of suffering - pray for me that I may not refuse God in this hour - I don't want to do it, but I am afraid I may do it. Pray for me" (13 December 1959). ¯ "Keep my soul with all its darkness & loneliness, its longing and its torturing pain close to the altar - Pray for me - much and often - for now it seems He has cut off one more human help and left me alone - to walk alone in darkness. Pray for me - that I may keep up the smile, of giving without reserve - pray that I may find courage to walk bravely and with a smile. Ask Jesus not to allow me to refuse Him anything however small - I rather die. To ask you to come - I think that I will not do but if Jesus asks you to come - Please come I will be grateful" (4 April 1960). ¯ "I have been on the verge of saying - No. It has been so very hard - that terrible longing keeps growing - & I feel as if something will break in me one day - and then that darkness, that loneliness, that feeling of terrible aloneness. Heaven from every side is closed. Even the souls that drew me from Home from Loreto as if they don't exist - gone is the love for anything and any-body - and yet - I long for God. I long to love Him with every drop of life in me. I want to love Him with a deep personal love - I can't say I am distracted - my mind and heart is habitually with This darkness and emptiness is not as painful as the longing for God. Septentber-October 2001 Huart ¯ Mother Teresa God - How this thing must sound foolish to you because of its contradiction. "For my meditation I am using the Passion of Jesus - I am afraid I make no meditation - but only look at Jesus suffer - and keep repeating - 'Let me share with you this pain!' "When you go to Jesus - make one fervent act of love for me - since I can't make it myself" (20 October 1960). ¯ "He want to make sure to drain out of me every drop of self - Those weekly helps He has taken also so that darkness is so dark and the pain so great but in spite of it all - my retreat resolution was the same a hearty 'Yes' to God, a big 'Smile' to all. and it seems that these two words are the only thing that keeps me going" (15 June 1961). ¯ "As for me - thank God we have been told to follow Christ - as I have not to go ahead of Him even in the darkness the path is sure. "When some daysare above the average - I just stand like a very small child and await patiently for the storm to subside" (1 September 1961). ¯ "Often I wonder what does really God get from me in this state - no faith, no love - not even in feelings. The other day I can't tell you how bad I felt - there was a moment when I nearly refused to accept - deliberately I took the Rosary and very slowly without even meditating or thinking - I said it slowly and calmly - the moment passed - but the darkness is so dark, and the pain is so painful - but I accept whatever he gives and I give whatever He takes - People say they are drawn close to God - seeing my strong faith. Is this not deceiving people? Every time I have wanted to tell the truth - 'that I have no faith' - the words just do not come - my mouth remains closed - and yet I still keep on smiling at God and all" (21 September 1962). ¯ "I must have been so very full of self all this year - Since God is taking so long to empty me - I hope one day when I am fully empty He comes. Pray for me" (13 February 1963). ¯ "In my soul - I can't tell you how dark it is, how painful, how terrible. I feel like 'refusing God' and yet the biggest and the hardest to bear is the terrible longing for God - Pray for me that I may not turn a Judas to Jesus in this painful darkness. I was looking forward to speaking to you v I just long to speak - and this too He seems to have taken the power from me. I will not complain - I accept His Holy Will as it comes to me. If you have Review for Religious the time please write & do not mind my inability to speak to you - for I wanted to speak - but I could not" (9 January 1964). ¯ "I want to want it as He wants it. Only pray that I may keep up joy exteriorly. I deceive people with this weapon - even my Sisters" (undated). Even in her darkest moments, one thing always remained with Mother: the unshakable conviction that the mission entrusted to her and to her sisters among the poorest of the poor was God's, his entirely: ¯ "I know that I want with my whole heart what He wants, as He wants, as long as He wants. Yes Father - this 'aloneness' is hard. The only thing that remains is the deep and strong conviction that the work is His" (18 May 1962). It is no doubt from her own experience of the night that she could reach out to those who were journeying along a similar road. In a page of breathtaking beauty she wrote to a priest: ¯ "You have said 'yes' to Jesus and He has taken you at your word. The Word of God became Jesus the poor one. And so this terrible emptiness you experience. God cannot fill what is full. He can only fill emptiness - deep poverty - and your 'yes' is the beginning of being or becoming empty. It is not how much we really 'have' to give - but how empty we are - so that we can receive fully in our life and let Him live His life in us. In you today - He wants to relive His complete submission to His Father - allow Him to do so. It does not matter what you feel but what He feels in you. Take away your eyes from yourself and rejoice that you have nothing - that you are nothing - that you can do nothing. Give Jesus a big smile each time your nothingness frightens you. This is the poverty of Jesus. You and I must let Him live in us and through us in the world [.] Cling to Our Lady for she too - before she could become full of grace - full of Jesus - had to go through that darkness" (7 February 1974). At times God provided an oasis of peace: ¯ "You must have prayed very fervently for me because it is now about a month that there is in my heart a very deep union with the Will of God. I accept not in my feelings - but with my will, the Will of God. I accept this Will - not only for time but for eternity" (9 January 1964). Yet, in 1970, she still could write: ¯ "I can't tell you how bad I feel - but this too I have to accept. The devil must be mad September-October 2001 Huart * Mother Teresa with the good the Sisters are doing- & so the revenge" (16 September 1970). Most of these letters are from the mid 1950s to the mid 1960s. In later years, in her letters to Bishop and then Cardinal Picachy, she seldom comes back to this protracted trial. Does this mean that the darkness has by this time been lifted and that she now dwells in light and peace? When Father Picachy was appointed bishop of Jamshedpur and left Calcutta in 1962, she wrote to congratulate him and told him that, as he would be busy with weightier affairs, she felt she should not burden him any more with her own troubles. Is this why her spiritual confidences to him became gradually much less frequent? Or had she come to recognize that this darkness was God's way for her, along which she could be one with the poor and abandoned, and with the Sitio (the "I thirst") of Jesus on the cross? In the chapels of the Missionaries of Charity, next to a large crucifix, you will always find the words "I thirst" prominently displayed. Whatever happened afterwards, I hold it from reli-able witnesses that, in the period immediately before her death, she was in great and agonizing spiritual darkness. Further docu-ments and witnesses are likely to throw light on this, but per-haps fewer than we might hope. Mother always enjoyed speaking about God, Jesus, and the poor, but she was very reserved about her own inner life, except in those moments of night when she could not suppress a cry of pain. To Cardinal Picachy she confided how painful it was for her to open about it even to him. After meeting him she more than once wrote: ¯ "I wanted so much to speak to you, but something kept me back." In fact Mother tried persistently to get at confiding letters to destroy them. Many got lost in this way: ¯ "Please. destroy my letters or anything I have written - God wants me to open my heart to you - I have not refused. I am not trying to find the reason - only I beg you destroy everything" (26 April 1959). Cardinal Picachy did not comply, but kept all these letters-- presumably because he foresaw what would happen after her death. Her fear was that, if divulged, the letters might draw attention to her. She was convinced that the work she had been entrusted with was entirely God's, not hers. She was--as she repeatedly said-- only the small pencil stub that God used in writing his poem. She would add: ¯ "If God could have found a person smaller and more worthless than me, He would have chosen her instead." Review for Religious :" Would Mother, now that she is no longer with us on earth, still object to these letters having been preserved by Cardinal Picachy and now, after her and his death, brought into the open? By now she no doubt has understood that she belongs to the church. It is traditional teaching that the mystical charism of God's close friends is meant not primarily for themselves but for the good of the whole church. Many people who go through similar trials may gain courage and hope from these letters. There are probably many more such persons than we think---though in various degrees of intensity. About the Nights anyone can read in the writings of great mystics. Yet is it not encouraging to real-ize that darkness has been daily bread for a most joy-giving little woman of our days? At first sight Mother Teresa might stand in sharp contrast to little TMr~se of Lisieux. The latter lived within the routine of a contemplative convent, the for-mer was fully immersed in the world of the poor and later trav-eled incessantly around the world to visit her sisters. There may, however, have been a great closeness of spirit between the two. When Mother was asked whether she took her name from the great Teresa of Jesus, she answered: "Oh no, nothing so grand for me! For me it is the little one." She often fondly spoke of her. Just before dying she wrote a letter to her sisters, making special mention of her little life-friend. We mentioned above Mother's small parable comparing herself to the useless little pencil stub in the hand of God, Does this image not remind us of Thtr~se of Lisieux's Little Way? Would their similai'ities not come in large measure from their pilgrim-age through the same Night? It is well known that Th~r~se of Lisieux, for years before her death--and increasingly as she approached death--lived in a deep darkness of the spirit. This she bore heroically in union with the many in her age who were over-whelmed by the spirit of unbelief. Mother lived it in union with the vast world of those who live in misery, loneliness, and rejection. This article does not attempt to give a balanced account of Mother Teresa's spirituality. It is very one-sided, emphasizing In the period immediately before her death, she was in great and agonizing spiritual darkness. September-October 2001 Huart * Mother Teresa Mother's Night pilgrimage, a dimension of her life that is little known. There is any amount of documentation focusing on her immense compassion for the poor, her organizing dynamism, her spirit of faith and joy-giving. It seems good now to bring out the dark mystical dimension, which might place her along with the great contemplative apostles of the world. Some trends nowadays would claim that a Christian is called to be carried on an ever flowing stream of spiritual joy. Here there would be no darkness of spirit that a good mix of psychotherapy and spirituality could not do away with. I remember Cardinal Picachy, the recipient of the letters we have been quoting above, asking in gentle bewilderment after listening to a talk on such lines: "What on earth has become of the Night?" He may have been thinking of what his friend had gone through, and of the joy-giving fruit it has borne for many. Leaves Dried, dead leaves, brown, brittle, broken, scraping the concrete, whisked by the wind. Fodder for fire, fun for squirrels and birds, who walk, scamper, and squawk in the midst of them. Pounded by nature, they melt, mushy, into the ground, giving nourishment, substance, peat to a new generation. I am not unlike the leaf. Michael J. Lydon Review for Religious CATHY WRIGHT Multicultural at Our Very Heart: The Little Sisters of Jesus There is a lot of research and talk today about multi-culturalism in religious life. My reading about it has been limited, but I think that my community, the Little Sisters of Jesus, has a certain experience of it that might be interesting to simply share. We were founded in 1939 by Magdeleine Hutin, who started in Algeria among nomadic tribes of the Sahara, intending to be a simple presence of friendship and God's love. By that very presence in love and respect, she sought to break down barriers of prejudice. While not monastic, we are called to be contemplatives, to seek the face of God in a life that is lived amid ordi-nary people who have suffered from poverty or exclusion of one kind or another. Magdeleine never expected her community to be more than a small group fitting into the desert's nomadic Muslim population. But a strange thing happened. After World War II many women, especially in her native France, became captivated by this way of "presence." As the numbers increased, some began asking to go to other countries, and in 1947 Magdaleine understood that this "vocation of Bethlehem and Nazareth" could be lived Cathy Wright LSJ lives in Chicago. More information and resources about the Little Sisters are available on their Website: www.rc.net/org/littlesisters. September- October 2001 Wright ¯ Multicultural at Our Very Heart anywhere. With the audacity of all our founders, she got herself a ticket to travel around the world. Wherever she found a willing bishop--and there were many who refused her--she would leave a few young sisters behind to "do it." With many adventures they did. Some of those places were the industrialized urban centers, where the sisters worked in fac-tories. Some of those places were deep in the Amazon or in remote villages of Alaska or Australia. And some were in areas torn by the violence of hatred and war. She would go almost anywhere, but particularly where the church was not present or where people suffered from discrimination, violence, division, or poverty. Foundations on every continent resulted in women from those countries asking to join. Magdeleine saw in this a wonderful way of being a living sign of unity. She was not a woman of theories, but one of dreams, seemingly undaunted by the inconveniences of what she was undertaking. She was not naive about the demands of the lifestyle, but was convinced that the power of love could continue working miracles in our day. If anything, Magdeleine erred on the side of multicultural-ism. As soon as women from a country were professed (and some-times even before), she gave them leadership roles in the congregation. She encouraged sisters from different countries, races, and cultures to live together as visible witnesses and signs that love can overcome the divisions created by prejudices. She quickly had sisters from different countries and races taking their place on the general council. Ag a way of further encouraging this intermingling, forma-tion sessions and theology studies were organized first in Algeria and later in Rome so that all could have the experience of living together for a significant length of time. When people from around the world spend a year or two together deepening their faith and their common vocation, friendships are created that sustain us when we return to our own little corners of the world. As I said, Magdeleine was not a woman of theory. She just went on and dreamed wonders into being. She knew how to celebrate and rejoice in the diversity of cultures. Besides the personal letters exchanged by friends now living all over the world, we have a system of circular letters, very con-crete sharings gathered from those faraway places. We know about land-reform issues in the Amazon through our sisters who have lived among the Tapirape people for fifty years, and the genocide Review for Religious in Rwanda had a personal face to it--sisters and their families and friends. I have lived with sisters from many countries and partic-ipated in their celebrations. We have eaten each other's food, sometimes with delight and sometimes just trying to get it down. We learn to laugh and cry together, both by sharing about what goes on back home and by the inevitable joys and pains of learn-ing to live together. Being part of such a community has its challenges. It is not always simple to bring such diversity together, especially from peoples that may have a long his-tory of conflict and misunderstand-ing. These can be painful situations, and trying to find a way together can only be done through the heart of the Crucified One. But finding a way is a gospel imperative. In my own experience, the cul-tural differences are not the hard-est. We expect them to be there even if sometimes we are surprised by them and trip. The differences of personality and temperament-- realities that are present in each cul-ture- are much harder to deal with on a daily basis. On one occasion I spent the better part of a year in a group of eighteen of us. Within that group there were two sisters each from Nigeria, Japan, Germany, India, and Ethiopia. In each instance the personalities and temperaments of the two from the same country were so different as to wonderfully break down any national stereotypes that we might have had of each other. And, rather than trying simplistically to think that all national cultures are much the same, is it not better to notice the many variations on a theme? It seems to me that the most important element of any cross-cultural community project is the attitude with which we approach it. Do I believe that each culture is good even if I will always be more at home within my own? Am I comfortable enough within my own culture so as not to be threatened by another's? As obvi-ous as it may seem, I found myself realizing one day that each cul- When people from around the world spend a year or two together deepening their faith and their common vocation, friendships are created that sustain us when we return to our own little corners of the world. ¯ September-October 2001 Wright ¯ Multicultural at Our Very Heart ture, including my own, is in need of evangelization in the deep-est and best sense. There is no need to idealize away our sins and shortcomings. We are all in need of redemption. In crossing our cultural boundaries, it is important to be not only willing, but eager, to learn from each other--and to be convinced that others have something to reveal to me not only about themselves but also about myself and God. I have learned much by simply being part of a diverse com-munity. I have especially learned that my way of seeing the world is very relative. I have been privileged to visit or live in other countries and cultures, and this has fashioned the way I see the world. At present my community numbers about 1300 women from 67 nationalities living in 72 countries. There are only 25 of us in the United States. Of that number about half have been born in the U.S. 9f European or Mexican ancestry. The rest come from France, Belgium, Switzerland, Germany, Japan, and Sri Lanka. Little sis-ter Magdeleine dreamed us into existence through the grace of God and her audacity to believe that what was deemed folly in the eyes of many was really the wisdom of God. She just went on and did it, believing that "Jesus is the Master of the Impossible." None of us will ever do it perfectly. We have made plenty of mis-takes, and will find new mistakes down the road. In a global world, I am grateful for Magdeleine's vision. For her the differences of culture, race, religion, temperament, and age were cause for celebration and mutual enrichment. She believed that embracing these differences is a sign of the reign of God. It is a response to Jesus' call to be one, to build a world where we are all sisters and brothers to one another. Review for Religious A. PAUL DOMINIC Millennial Stirrings in Religious Life ~/ n~w spiritual awakening is occurring in human culture, an awakening brought about by a critical mass of indi-viduals who experience their lives as a spiritual unfolding, a jour-ney in which we are led by mysterious coincidences.'" No matter who wrote those words--though in fact they are by James Redfield, author of the bestselling Celestine Prophecy--they are likely to evoke a pleasant, hopeful response in many a reader around the world. I asked myself whether such an awakening is occurring in religious life. I answered yes at once. But, as I wanted to share my convic-tion with others, I began wondering how to express it in a way that would be both familiar and striking. No ideas came, and, without a library at hand, I laid aside my little project and devoted some time to prayer. Afterwards I was about to do something else when I felt urged to pick up at random one of a little collec

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

Issue 20.2 of the Review for Religious, 1961. ; JOHN B. WAIN, M.D. Psychological Problems in Religious Life In the religious press it is becoming more common to find articles on the psychological problems of the dedi-cated life, but itis unusual to read any contributions from doctors. As one who has been privileged to associate closely with religious and to care for them over many years, this writer feels that his observations may be of some use to the great army of admirable, holy, an_.d well balanced priests, brothers, and sisters when they have to help the small but important group of priests and religious who suffer from nervous disorders. The layman gains the im-pression that psychological difficulties are some of the greatest problems which religious have to face; indeed, unspoken misgivings about this matter may be partly re-sponsible for the shortage of vocations. This may operate in two ways. Parents are willing to let their children face martyrdom at the hands of the pagans, but they have their reservations about the unnecessary crosses to be taken up daily in the community or in the rectory, Children who have suffered injustice from a neurotic teacher will eschew the risk of joining that order or congregat.ion when they grow up. The price of retaining one such maladjusted person in the community without giving him the proper care and attention might be the loss of twenty vocations from among successive classes of pupils and the estrange-ment of an equal number of tentative converts. As a starting point for discussion on the matter, two broad generalisations will be offered. First, there is too much neurosis among religious. Second, much of it is avoidable or preventible. These are merely clinical im-pressions. It is impossible to assess accurately the incidence of nervous disease in any group or nationality; neverthe-less, confirmation of the above two ideas can be easily found in conversations with Catholic doctors and'religious nurses. All such persons agree about the existence of neu-÷ ÷ John B. Wain, M.D., is a ph},sician with man.}, years of experience m treating men and women religious. VOLUME 20~ 1961 8! 4. 4. 4. John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 82 rosis among religious men and women. One doctor who visits a man's religious institution of thirty members states that in the weekly sick parade there, there are always at least ten with inconsequential complaints. It is a fair observation to say that every community, however small, has at least one neurotic problem to deal with. This situation is most unsatisfactory. The energies of the supe-rior are dissipated in managing the misfit, and the unity of the community is endangered. The saddest task for the doctor is to institute .psychiatric treatment for one who has suffered a nervous breakdown in Christ's service. Sometimes these patients are nursed along for years for fear that their state may reflect badly on the order's way of life. This may be so, but it is a disastrous policy to delay seeking psychiatric help in the hope that the dis-order will remit spontaneously. Sister M. William Kelley1 in a unique article has given the incidence of hospitalized mental illness among re-ligious sisters in the United States. Her paper was notable for its courage in facing up to the problem and for the fact that the main religious mental hospitals refused to cooperate with her in the investigation. This unwilling-ness to submit the problem to discussion is not uncommon, even though such discussion would be productive of great good. The truth cannot harm us. Sister William found that, when compared with women in secular life, religious suffered from a higher incidence of psychotic (particularly schizophrenic) and psychoneurotic disorders, even though because of prior selection they have less mental deficiency, and chronic brain syndromes. She concluded that pre-psychotic personalities may be attracted to the religious life on the basis of what they think it will do for their un-satisfied desires and that the increase of mental disorder among active religious may be due to factors of stress such as overcrowded classes and understaffed hospitals. Two suggestions are made by the present writer for the prophylaxis of this state of affairs. More~importance should be given to p~ychological matters in the selection of seminarians, postulants, and novices; and there could be a systematic reduction in factors causing nervous stress in the lives of professed religious. A common impression is that many of these psychiatric patients enter religion without adequate psychological assessment, Often the family history of mental disease is ignored, or the personal history of previous nervous br2akdown is not taken seri-ously enough. These should be serious contraindications to acceptance, although it must be admitted that Blot ¯ Sister M. William Kelley, I.H,M., "The Incidence of Hospitalized, Mental Illness among Religious Sisters in. the United States," The American Journal of Psychiatry, 115 (i958-1959), 72-75. and Galimard2 give the impression that such unsuitable candidates may sgm_etimes-be,considered for religioys life. - . - It should n~t l~e too difficult to introduce some f~)rm of " psychological testing for all applicants to seminaries.and to religious life. The Califoi'nia ~'~gt of "Mental' ~V~ity;_ the DifferentialApti.tude Test, or the He.nmqn-Nelson test. could be used to gauge general intelligence, while.,~ per~" son~ality profile of the applican.ts.c, ou_ld be achieved by,:~he use of the Edwards PersOnal. Prgference Schedule,~ the Guilford-Zimmerman Temp.eram~enL Survey, _or t,he Mid-_ nesota.Per.sonality Scale. These tests can be .proctored by" persons.with no special tra_i~nin~g alth,0ugh the~,i~erpreta; tion of them should be en~.tr, u~ted to.some0ne with training in, psychology. When" these tests mncover a, Oos's'ib~, sig-nificant_ area Qf defect in the appl!cant, he can be refer.red, to a competent psycho~logis~.fo.r further examination be-fore he is accepted by the seminary or rellgaous lnsutute. Masters and mistre.sse, s of novices should have some specialized tr~fining in psychologiEal work so that they. can recognize early the sy.mptoms, of maladjustment and dismiss such subjects from the community b~'fore they disturb its peace and b'~lance. O~n~ common type. w~ may be mistakenly admitted-is ~the girl ~ho stays on at the convent boardin~school until.the age of nineteen or twenty, unable to make up her-mihd ab6ut°the. future.i This is a serious form of. immaturity,.wh~ose progn6sis, in religign, is poor. The admission~ of youths and girls the age of" sixteen also involves the°risk bf, ac~eptii~g vo-cations which, are_ based.on~,immature co~ncep, ts, while late entrants tend to.be too.,, independent to acce.pt.religi~ous,. obedience. -. ,~,o , - - Much could be done.to reduce the psych,olo.gical stresses which are not an integral par, t. of religious life, the .m. o~,t potent weapon being the fosterin~ of a warm pa#~nta,.1 love between superiors and subjects. Accepting poverty,'chas-~ tity, obedience, and the in'es~apable difficulties d~ common~ life involves sufficient.sacrifice without creating ar'fificial' burdens. In. Oiscu~.s!ng~ .~eligi0tis vows, even-in a st~irit of humility, the doctor ,strays outside his specialty; ~bu~ the mtenuon here ~slto point out thexr medxcal repercus: sion~ in mentally disturbed p~ople. Pov~r~y,, ig iiaainly spirit/aM "concept of defachm~nt° from ear~h'l~ ~hxuri~ but not- the denial of the basic necessftids of-life. Religious. should lead a life-of.lfrugal' omfort,~not one 6f.pehur, y, hunger, and.,privati~;n i~aless~h~ seek these as%specifiC, penances.St. Therese of Lisieuxost.ated that h~r mare cross in the convent was bearing the cold, an indictment of.'tl~e insufficient heating. She died Of t(~berculosis at the ~geof. twent~-foui', when the hot, salt blood welled u'p i~i'to i;i"e~ ~ Ren~ Blot. M.D. and Pierre G~limard, M.D., Medicid Guide to Vocations (Westminister: Newman, 1955). 4. Psychological Problems " VOLUME 20, 196~. John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 84 mouth~"she was happy to think how soon she would be in heaven. For her it was a saintly death; for her superior it was a comment" on the neglect of the community's health. St. Berhadette also suffered hardships in the convent and died of the same disease at thirty-five. Even now tuber-culosis is a risk for all young people in religion. Is it pos-sible that the vow of poverty has been misapplied? Chastity is the glory of the religious life and nothing can be done to make its acceptance any easier, but efforts should be made to eliminate false standards of purity which degenerate into prudery and unreasonable con-cepts of modesty. Gynecological complaints are often suffered'.for years before medical advice is sought, and maligfl~ant tumors are not reported until they are in-operable. The fact that some religious are not permitted to attend the reception of the sacrament of matrimony is a relic of Jansenism which may give offence to lay people and connotes false apprehensions about the nature of religious chastity. The kingdom of heaven suffers violence and only the violent can bear it away. Those who do violence to their own natures by taking religious vows must expect some repercussions, but these lose some of their force if they are discussed with frankness, tact, and objectivity. The deprivation of the consolations of married love and of childbearing mugt affect sisters particularly; as a result of this inner conflict between natural instincts and the ideals of the religious life, some may unwittingly suffer a suc-cession of functional, as distinct from organic, illnesses. Atypical ~ase will find that she is becoming irritable and depressed; she finds her daily work an intolerable bur- ° den and her sisters' foibles which she previously ignored b~cbme opl~ressive to her. She loses her appetite, becomes thin, sleeps badly, and has palpitations and chest pains suggestive of heart disease. She may have to accept stronger temptations against purity. This is reminiscent of the yceriasriss o wf mhiacrhri emd alinfey, ams ahrarsi abgeeens peoxipn~etr_ie~ndc~ eo uatf tbeyr Labecoluetr ctqe.n8 At this stage in life the first long struggle is over, the couple have rea~he~l financial stability, and' the difficult years of having several babies in tie house have passed. Both partners see the first ~vidences of age, and, realizing that degenerative diseases will start"~within another decade, some will desperately seek the excitement of youth. They must face temptations to ihfidelity, pride, and avarice. In religion some experience a similar crisis. After ten years they reach a stage of achievement and the gecurity that comes from seniority, but they find that youth has im- 8Jacques Leclercq, Marriage a Great Sacrament (Fresno: ~,cademy Library Guild, 1953). perceptibly~ slipped ~away and' they ask themselves if their vocation is really the right way of life. If they can hold on bravely with the assistance of prayer and the syinph-thetic undergtanding of an enlightened superior, they will pass through the storm ~nto the calm and contentment of a well integrated religious life. The menopause brings the game stresses as it does for lay women, and sisters should be advised to expect~ hot flushes, headaches, irritability, and depressions. Many of 'these symptoms can be helped by treatment. Younger sisters can be reassur.ed about the problems of dysmenor-rhoea, and premenstrual, tension. It is probably not uncommon for religious and lay people to experiencd sexual feelings at the quiet_ times of recollecuon anffat commumon. Thxs was referred to'w~th characteristic delica.cy., by St. Te,resa. of Avila when asked for advice on the matter' by hdr brother Rodrigo who was making his first steps~'in the mystical lif$. She implied that she also. had experienced t6~sefe~lings but that th~y disappeared when they were ignqred. "In God's design the happiness of the married life must be a pale shadow of the ecstas~ of the mystical Union~oand similar physiologi~M reactions accompany each. If these factg are uriderstood, there will be less distress for gqddlbeople who liave th~se otherwise d.is.turbing e~pe~iences. Obedience presents so many problems that the only unfailing guides are the'vi'rt~es of prudence and ~ha~ity. It is a necessary vow l~c~use only an austere':discipllne can lead to the full development of the strong personality which will accept sacrifices and will persevere in the re-ligiou~ vocatidn. It is falsely applied, however, if it de: stroys a sense of personal responsibility and initiative and if the command seems'to be an insult to the human dignity Of the subj~.kt. The essence of obedience is the surrender of the will; it is impgssible to surrender the intellect. It is unfortunate that an ekample of Obedience commonly quoted is that of St. Francis of Assisi who planted cabbages upside down. The saint is to be admired but not necessarily emulated. A young novice saw his master of novices scattering his carefully swept rubbish about the yard. When taked with untidiness, his acciden-tally acquired knowledge enabled him to accept the rebuke with apparent humility. If he had protested, his future in religion might have been prejudiced. It should be pos-sible to test virtue without having recourse to methods involving injustice, untruth; or deviations from the rule of charity. The end result of imposing an unre'asonable obedience is the fostering of immaturity in subjects and the formation of a type of religious who is almost inca-pable of making simple decision's or arranging anything outside the narrow cgmpass of his daily life. This is what 4, PPsryocbhloel~ongsical VOLUME 20, 1961 85 ÷ ÷ ÷ John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOU$ 86 irreverent clerics refei: to as "holy helplessness." The re-ligious life should ensourage the flowering of the com-plete personality in imitation of Christ and our Lady; it s ould produce'cultured.men and women, full of grace, strength, and inner peace. In this connection it is often stated that in religion men find their personalities while women lose theirs. Why should there be this difference? Many avoidable burdens arise from an undue rigidity of ttfe rule. A certain flexibility is desirable to adapt European customs to hfe ~n~ other geographical areas and-to make allowance for the changes of circumstances that" characterize the twentieth century. A sister I kno~ was unable to read the Confessions of St. Augustine be-cause the rule forbade taking books'from the public li-brary. This typ.e of r~striction exposes religious life t6 ridi-cule. Neither would the dignity of sisters suffer if they were to eat in public and to travel alone. There are certain physiological norms which the average "i~erson must bbey; accordingly, it should be the rule for mgst religious to have a minimum of seven hours sleep and not to work for more than twelve hours a d.ay ~(including in this the time necessary for the proper fulfilment of the prescribed religious and spiritual exer'cises of each da~). ~When recreation is tak.en, some relaxation of the artifi- 'ciality which has obtained in the past would do much good and would not harm the spirit of the 6rder or congrega-tion. Particular friendships ha,~e tr~ditionaliy been pro-scribed, bht this should not exclude those i~atural affinities which are felt by compatible personalities. These if fos-tered are a great consolation" to the parties and would not destroy the unity of the group, nor would they develop into a sinister relationship. Our Lord Himself encouraged a close friendship with St. John. , With the exception of enclosed 9rd~ers, ~ome reasonable access of parents to children "c'ould.~ well be encouraged, especially in times of illness oOr death. A regulation whereby a religious may not go to his~own parent's fun.eral, but may go to anyone else's, could well be rescinded. A1- "though the habit is only a small a~pect of cbnventual life, -somre lessons can;be drawn fro~a.]t. While possessing a certain antique charm, it is indicht~ive. ,of an orientation towards the past; and to those outside thd Ch~:~rch it sug-gests that the wearers do n_ot face up to and take part in modern life. The other n0t_able f~& is tha( the request of Pope Plus XII for modernisation of the habit fell to a grea{ extent upon deaf ears. Apart from some minor ad-justments which are obvious only to the initiate, the dress is unchanged. This is largely because of the innate con; servatism of women and the fakul.{y of fiabituat]o~n;o eact one thinks that members o,f every o.ther community a.nd the Salvation Army~look absurd. The times call for re-jection of the whole concept of what a religious habit should be and the deyelopment of a new dress. Just as clerics have rightly abandoned tonsure, so the cutting of the hair of religious~r~men could be restricted to a token or symbolical gesture, find the headdress discarded. Some nursing sisters with covered' ears are almost unable, to take blood pressure r.eadings Or t'6" i]]te~ to the fetal "l~eart. "Dur-ing the recent war priests in the armed services did not suffer loss of dignity fr6m adopting officer's dress; on the other hand, the pri,est workers"went too far in their adap-tation. In the stress of mc~dern living regular alternation of activity and rest is necessary; therefore annual holidays should be provided for. Only very wooden personalities can go bn for years withoiat variation in their routine of life. Much of the stress of the religious life results from at-tenipting to do too much, working too long, and being sent out on active duties with insufficient training. The Sister Formation Conferences"aim to correct this latter undesir-able trend. Al-though it may cause a temporary shortage of persorinE1, it mustpay dividends in the long run. The laborers have been too few since Christ first uttered th~se words, butrushing r~ligious through their training will not solve the eternal problem. The Church has tradi- (ionally been a bad employer, and the worst sufferers have been religious themselves. Their services are so valuable that they should have better welfare services than other employers progide. In this corine'ction it is both amusing and instructive to recall St. Teresa's chiding 6ur Lord for her misfortunes: "Is it any Wonder, Lord, that You have so few friends when people see h6w badly you treat ~tour chosen ones!" The beneficent influence of good art, even on unsophis-ticated rrlinds, is rarely ~u~ilized; it is common to see a poor standard of iriterior decoration, and pictorial art in convents and rectories, even though church architecture has advanced to a gratifying degree. A reasonable access to secular literfiture would not be harmful if it broadens the experience of religious and gives them some wider a~- preciation of the problems their pupils must face when they leave school. Those assigned to menial tasks should have some e'asily attainable goals arranged for them so that their spirits will not be crushed by monotony and by the lack of any evidence of achievement. ~uperiors have :the additional, worry of finance, ad-ministratiofi, and personnel management, for which they have Usually received no training. With only native common serise as a guide, they must learn with a trial and error method. One way to lift this secular burden would be to provide experienced lay advisers so" that the superior, could concentrate on his apostolate; this would, o~ course, involve som~ surrender of autonomy. A common error is to attribute fieurotic behavior to ÷ ÷ ÷ Psychological Problems VOLUME 20, 1961 '4. '4. ,4. John B. Wain, M.D. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 88 a poor spiritual life~ and by that same token to expect that a more intense spiritual life'wilL cure a neurosis. A teaching brother was seen to change from a happy, agree-able person to one who was morose, withdrawn, and sus-picious. He went 'to the sacraments only infrequently and was given to outbursts of anger with his pupils. He was advised oto pray more, but this was expecting a miracle from grace. His main need was for .psychiatric treatment, which disclosed that his father had died in circumstances which he had always suspected were suicidal. He found himself having strange compulsive feelings when he looked out 'of high windows, and then he became scrupulous about matters of purity which he would normally have ignored. In the dark night of his soul, he felt abandoned by God and his community. With proper psychotherapy he recovered. Is this problem worth making a fuss about? Some would say that the status quo should be preserved; that the trials of religious life are the crosses which God in-tends for these souls; that He chooses the weak and foolish things of this world to confound the wise; that, according to Thurston,4 many of the saints and stigmatics were neurotics; that the command of the superior is God's will for the subject; and that in his handling of the prob-lems of his community the superior is given the grace of st.ate.All these arguments imply that infallibility is a widely diffused gift instead of a very limited one. In ac-cepting everything as God's will, people rarely draw,the distinction between His direct will and His permissive will, and therefore they do not admit that there can be mistakes or blunders in religious decisions. Is it impertinent for the layman to speak when he has no firsthand knowledge of religious life? In the spiritual health of the Mystical Body the layman is vitally con-cerned; moreover he is looking ahead to the welfare of his own children if and when they perceive a calling to enter religion. An investigation into the religious psy chological environment on a diocesan basis would produce fruitful results, but it would have to be undertaken a~ a cathartic exercise. The best religious, whose opinions, would be of the greatest value, are the very ones who l would count it a virtue to remain silent and unco.mplain-~ ing. How to integrate democratic processes into an author-I itarian governing structure is a difficult problem. C0nsid-I eration of all these factors influencing mental stabilityI renews our admiration for the great numbers of altruistici men and women who gaily sacrifice so many of the goodl things of life to make the total gift of themselves to God.I ~Herbert Thurston, s.J., The Physical Phenomena o! Mysticism (Chicago: Regnery, 1952). HENRY WILLMERING, SiJ. Charles Felix Van Q ickenborne "Father Charles van Quickenborne," writes Father Peter de Smet, "was the first Jesuit priest who appeared in the valley of the Misissippi after the reestablishment of the Society of Jesus. He was a.man full of zeal.for the salva-tion of souls. The conversion of the Indians w~as, impar-ticular; 'the object of his predilection and of his prayers. Long will his name be held in benediction, and his mem-ory celebrated in the places which h;id the happiness of receiving the fruits of his numerous labors,, and of his truly apostolic virtues." This commendation is from the pen of one of the seven novices who accompanied Father van Quickenborne to Missouri in 1823 to establish the nucleus of the Society of Jesus in the Middle West. Two years before, Peterde Smet and six Companions left their' native Belgium secretly to becomemissionaries to the Indians in North America. For this purpose they entered the Society in October, 1821, at Whitemarsh, Maryland, where shortly before Father van Quickenborne had been appointed master of novices. Unforeseen circumstances brought the group to the Indian country before their period of.probation was completed. The Right Reverend Louis Dubourg, bishop of' New Orleans and Upper Louisiana, had many'Indian tribes residing in his vast diocese, and he was anxiously seeking for missionaries to convert them. The success of the Jesuits in this work before the suppression of the Society prompted him to appeal to the Father General of the Society for ;help. He made a like appeal to the Superior of the Maryland mission and offered as an inducement the gift of a large, productive farm not far from the growing city of St. Louis. With the scanty number of available priests at their disposal, it seemed impossible to promise the bishop any help in the near future. Then Divine Providence intervened. In 1823 the finan, cial difficulties of every house" in the Maryland mission ÷ ÷ The Reverend Henry Willmering, Associate Editor of the REVIEW is stationed at St. Mary'S College, St. Marys~ Kansas. ~ VOLUME 20, 1961 89 REVIEWFORRELIGIOUS became so acute that the superior and his consultors seriously considered clo~ing the Whitemarsh novitiate and dismissing the novices. When told of this decision, Father van Quickenborne reminded the superior of Bishop Du-bourg's offer and of the readiness of himself and his novices to go to the Indian territory and work for the conversion of the natives. Accordingly, a concordat was entered into between the Bishop of New Orleans and Father Charles Neale, Supe_rior of the Maryland Province, to establish a novitiate of the Society at Florissant, Missouri, on condi-tion that, after the no,~i~es finished their spiritual and theological training, they would devote themselves to the apostolate of the Indians. The exodus from Whitemarsh was in the spring of 1823. The party consisted of two priests, seven novices, three lay-brothers, and three families of negro slaves. Two wagons carried the baggage across, the mountains to Wheeling on the. Ohio River. The young mi_ssionaries made the journey on foot across the Alleghenies. In Wheel- Ang they procured two flat boats; on one of them they placed the negroes and baggage, while the other served them as their 'floating.monastery.' They-drifted down the river day and night, stopping only to procure provisions. Religious exercises were. continued during the voyage as circumstances allowed. At Louisville, Kentucky, they landed their baggage, and a local pilot directed their craft over the falls of the river. At the foot of the falls they re-embarked and continued their river trip as far as, Shawnee-town, Illinois, Thence the missionaries made the last 150 miles through swamp land on foot, while a river,s_teamer carried ~their baggage, upstream to St. Louis, where they arrived on the last day of May. The entire trip lasted ,fifty days. " o The-homestead, which they were to inhabit on the, out- ,skirts of the village of Florissant, was a wretched log cabin, with a single room, measuring sixteen by eighteen feet, arid surmounted by a gable roof, so low that one could' not stand erect in,the attic beneath it. At a short distance from the house were ~two sheds, one had served as a pig pen/the other as a tool shed. The newcomers ~ere a bit disap-pointed, to find such primitive quarters, and the hardships encountered during the first few months"proved to,, be too great.for one novice andoaqay-brother~ who left during the summer of 1823. The others adapted themselves to the situation in a truly religious and missionary spirit.,The six noyices and two lay-brothers slept on the floor of the attic, while the single, room below was divided by a cur-tain, ,one side .being reserved as. the domestic chapel, the other as the living room for the priests. The.first shed was by turns study hall, classroom and r~fectory; the second served as kitchen and domicile for the negroes. ,, Much greater~ would .have been~the discomfort of.the Jesuit ,~communit'y had not Divine Providence assisted them through the generosity of~,Blessed Philippine Du-chesne and:her community. °The Religious of the Sacred ,Heart had moved to'Flonssant tliree years earher?~where they condudted a small boarding schbol.Often they de; prived themselves of what little they had to send it to:their neighbors. Furnithre, bedding, cooking utensils~.and~pro-visions were generously offered to the' Fathers and novices during the~,first~evere wifiter. ' "~ To relieve the acfite housing problem, the Jesuits ~be-gan work.immediately by collectin~building'ma_terials. Stone wag procured from a nearby quai-ry, timber,was cut and shaped, and when Ml,was ready a.,second.story, and spacious annex were added to the house. Ttiese hard~,and continuous .activities h~ever interrupted the ~spirituab ex-ercisEs. of the novitiate; but the.cold weather.and frequent snow storms put. a stop~to,~the labor till spring. Tl~e new additions were completed in June, and~ after thednterior ~had been remodelled, life became more bearable. . . -'Th( leader and guiding spirit of~this enterprise was a man,thirty-five years of age. Charles Felix_van Quicken-borne was,born in the village of Peteghem,'twelve miles w~st'of Ghent, on January 21;, 1788. His first studieswere made in Deynze; "then he attended the academy in Ghent, and finally entered the diocesan seminary in thatl city. From the first h.i~ talents and application~merited high praise. He was ordainedto the priesthood in 1812, and was appointed to teach the classics in the preparatory semi-nary of Roeselare: When, shortly after, Napoleon,,closed allthe seminaries in:F.tafiders and drhfted the stu'dents of military age, Father .Charles Was appointed vicar of the large ~Zalloon parish',of St. Denijs near Coutrais. Being guided by the wise counsels of the sain~tly dean, Frans Corselis, whose virtues he often-ext011ed, to'his novices,in later.years, Father Charles, administered the parish .@ith great success, and,the peopl~e were sorry to, see him resign his charge in.order-to enter the newly opened. Jesuit novitiate at Rumbeke. He arrived there on April 14, 1815. A hostile Dutch govei'nment drove the novice~from "this quiet retreat shortly after, but they were" given shelter by'the highly esteemed Bishop of Ghent, Maurice de Broglie, who placed his episcopal.residence at DistOlber-gen, on the outskitts of Ghent, at their disposal; and there Father Charles finished his two years 6f probation.:~He pronounced his first .vows as a Jesuit in April, A817 . ' Having read the account of .the Reductions of Paraguay, the'young Jesuit~ was eager to go to North America and de-vote his life to the conversion of- the Indians/Even as a novice he begged Father General, Thaddaeus';Brz0zoW-ski, for this~mission. Instead he was assigned~to teach othe Henry W il imering, $.~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 92 classics in th~ academy~of Roesalare, which appointment he received with resignation to the divine will. Then, un-expectedly, he was given permission to go to America. He. lost no time in making his preparations, and during the last week of October, 1817, he set sail for the United States and arrived, in. Baltimore towards the end of December. His first year in America was spent learning English at Georgetown College. Then came the appointment as master of novices. We can imagine with what trepidation he assumed this responsible office, he who but two years before had completed his own novitiate. He realized.fully his inexperience and knew that he was better fitted to do missionary work. But once again he resigned himself to God's will and trusted that help from above would not be wanting to him. In November, 1819, the novices were moved from Georgetown to Whitemarsh, Maryland. There, in addition to being novice master, Father Charles was the superior of the community, manager of a large plantation and of the negroes who worked it, missionary to the surrounding communities, carpenter, mason and builder. He erected a handsome stone church on the no-vitiate grounds and built a brick church at Annap01is, At the latter place, he said Mass every fortnight. He was known to visit regularly the sick and poor of the vicinity and devoted considerable time to the instruction of the negroes. For a while he attended to these multiple duties alone, but later he received a faithful helper in the person of Father~ Peter Timmermans, also a Belgian, and a most amiable and humble priest. He came to America with Father Charles Nerinckx in 1817, and entered the Society of, J~sus that same year. Father Peter took charge of the novices whenever Father Charles went on. one of his many missionary expeditions. In 1821, Father Nerinckx re-turned after a second trip to Eurbpe with another group of Belgian students, seven of whom entered the Society at Whitemarsh, and were the group who migrated to Floris-sant, where they pronounced their first vows on October 10, 1823. On finishihg the novitiate, they immediately began the study of.philosophy. One of their number, Peter Ver-haegen, had nearly completed all his seminary studies at Mechlin before coming to America. Accordingly he was appointed to assist Father van Quickenborne as instructor. Due to a lack of textbooks, the course in philosophy was rather superficial and was brought to a close with a public disputation in August, 1824. Two months earlier, on Mgy 31, Father Peter Timmer-marts died. This left Father Charles as the only priest at the Florissant mission. The multiple duties he had taken upon himself at Whitemarsh were again thrust upon him. Here, ~too, he was superior of the.community, chaplain and confessor for the,Religious of the Sacred0Heart, pastor of foti~ parishes, those of Florissant, St. Charles, Dardenne and Portage des Sioux, instructor of philosophy, manager of a large farm, and buildSr:"N0 wonder that~ h~ was prostrated by repeated spells of sickness. 'Yet he never spared himself, and when duty called, he went out, no matter how bad he felt. Many urgent calls for help were sent to Rome and Maryland; yet it was only after a year and five months, when the superior was near death,~ that help came in the .person of Father Theodore de Theux. In October, 1824, the scholastics began the study, of theology. The superior .had no choice but to appoint~ Peter Verhaegen instructor of dogma, and John Elet in-, structor of Sacred Scripture, while he reserved for himself, the courses in moral and pastoral theology. Needless to say, this arrangement was very :unsatisfactory to all con-cerned. After the arrival of Father de ~heux, matters im-proved a little since he took over the courses.in dogma and scripture. The first to be ordained, early-in 1826, were John Baptist Smedts and Peter Verhaegen. The following year the superior of Maryland visited the mission, where he held a comprehensive examination of all the candidates in theology, after which the remaining four were ordained just before the Christmas: holid_ays, in 1827, by Bishop Joseph Rosati, in the church at Florissant. The last period of a Jesuit's training, the third year of probation, wa_s made by all during the first half of 1828. On the eighth.of January they began the thirty day retreat under the direction of Father van Quickenborne who, in the peculiar circumstances, was~both tertian and tertian master. The retreat closed on February 7, and a few days later each tertian was assigned to give ,a retreat, a mis-sion, or take charge of a parish for one month. On their return .to Florissant, Father, Charles explained the Con-stitutions of.the Society, commented on the decrees of gen-eral congregations, and pointed out the approved methods of giving the Spiritual Exercises. One of the tertians praised very highly the quality and practical nature of these instructions. The tertianship ended on July.31, feast of St. Ignatius Loyola. Meanwhile, their purpose in coming to the West was by no means forgotten. True, the promise to send mission-armies to the Indian country within two years could not be kept, due partially at least to the untimely death of Father Timmermans, and more particularly to the fact that no additional priests came from Europe or Ma.ryland. A be-ginning, however, was made-when in 1824 Father Charles opened a school for Indian boys and Mother Duchesne started one for Indian girls. These two schools continued for a period of nearly seven years, and the progress made Fan O.uidumborne VOLUME 20, 1'961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Henry Wilimering, SJ. R~:VIEW FOR RELIGIOUS by the pupils~in Jearning :and piety merited favorable comments from visitors and also from :the Indiafi agents. But when' the pupils ,returned.to their tr.ibes; the.y wer~e deprived of all 'spiritual help and were' exposed to the superstitions and immorality' of (heir, people, and thus~ much of the ti'ainingo received at school was lost, To forestall this~'danger, Father Charles formulated a~ plan, patterned on the famous Reductions'of. Paraguay, of establishing Catholic Indian villages. Congress would be asked to appropriate a sum that would buy six thousand acres of land on the. outskirts of an Indian' settlement. Boys who graduated from 'the Jesuit school should' marry girls trained by the nuns. These couples would be given house and farm in the proposed village. The Indian agent should furnish the agricultural implements. One or two missionaries would live in the viIlage,' and care for the spiritual needs but al'so supervise the work done. The plan was approved by the president, but not by' Congress; so it was never realized b~ Father van Quickenborne. . .The failure of the Indian schools discouraged a number of the community, but not Father van Quickenborne, nor Father de Smet, Father Charles made two exploratory visits to the Indian country, the first in 1827; the second in the following year. On these journeys he addressed a num-ber of Osage and Iowa chiefs, baptized many infants, and made inquiries about starting missions among their peo-ple. When he ~found them favorable to his plans, he promised to send them. priests in the near future. He was eager to undertake the establishment of the~first mission himself, but another event intervehed whith thr'eatehed to delay the ope_ning of a.permanent Indihn mission for several years to come. -'o. Bishop Dubourg had opened a college in St. Louis 'in 1818, which had: a~ver~ precarious existence. No sooner had the Jesuits arrived in Missouri than an offer was made to'them to staff"the college; yet, until the six schoiastics were 6rdairied, this.was out of the question: In 1826 this college held its last session. At this point Bishop gosati; who had befriended the community gt Fl'orissant' from the start, again" urged that a new college be built and managed by the Jesuits, for which purpose' he offered ~a suitable plot of ~round just outside the city;' which had been donated to the bishop by Jeremiah Connors. As soon" as Father van Quiekenborne obtained permission from Rome,~ he started :building; and even before the structure was completed,' classes opened .on' November '2, 1829~ Father Verhae~e'n was appointed the first president, who with ~two other Fathers and afew externs (aughtten~ boarders .and thirty day scholars; but~within a few weeks' gime, the boarders increased "to thirty a~id the day scholars to 6ne hundred and twenty; During th6 first two years, the courses offered were those of a grammar school: In 1830,~.a course in Latin was added, and in 1832,.one in Greek. Father van Quickenborne _taught the Latin clas.s, Father de Theux, the Greek. When,the faculty was re-inforced by several priests and sc~holastics from :.Maryland, the school _quickly reached college lev~el, and in 1832, Father Verhaegen obtained,°by special act of the.Missouri legislature, a~ charter for the school un.der the title of 'St. Louis University,' with all the rights and prerogatives of a university. According to the terms of the concordat,of 1823, the Jesuits of Florissant were entrusted with the spiritual care of all Catholic families living in ce.ntral and northeastern Missouri. In 1828, Father Verreydt °was assign~ed, to. this work, which he carried.out witti~exemplary zeal. But.~n 1.830, Father van Quickenborne was~succeeded as superior of. the Missouri mission by Father de Theux; and' for the first time Father Charles seemed free to~ carry out his favorite project, to start a permanent mission among the Indians. Instead, he was told to take over Father Verreydt's missionary work. The reason for this is given by Father Garraghan, in The Jesuits o[ the Middle West: "The truth is that ~good Father van Quickenborne,' as his .Jesuit associat_es were fond of characterizing him, was a difficult_ person with whom towork. His zeal was boundless, with much about it of the heroic; his devotion to the cause of the In_dians, unflagging; , his personal piety, obvious to all;,but along with his in certain respects surpassing equipment as a missionary went limitations of temperament that unfitted him in,many ways to work successfully by the side of others. In° the social virtues he was often d%ficient. Silent, secretive, depressed and often gloomy in countenance, with a tendency to melancholy, despising personal com-forts an.d refusing them to others, difficult and exacting in business relations, not inviting confidence and, seldom winning it, he stood in many ways isolated from his fellow workers, a somewhat lonelyfigure in tl~e little Jesuit world in which he moved.''1 So great was his desire for living with. the Indians, and so persistent his'requests to his superiors, that finally in 1836:he was permitted to open a mission among the Kicka-poo. The previous summer he had made an :exploratory~ visit to the ~various tribes living nearest~the western bor-o ders of Missouriand0had come to the conclusion that the Kickapoo were the most eager., to embrace Christianity. In the fall,.he journeyed to Washington and contacted the 3ecretary of War, Lewis Cass, who authorized himto start 1 Gilbert J~ Garr~aghan, S.J., The Jesuit~ "of the Middle Unite~l $tates (New York: Anierica Press, 1938), Vol. I, p. 384. Van ~/~,o~ VOLUME 20, 1961 95 ÷ ÷ ÷ Henry Willmering, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 96 a~school among the Kickapoo and promised a subsidy of $500 a year to maintain it. After making a begging tour the 'East, which netted about $1500, Father Charles was ready to open a mission a few miles above Fort Leaven-worth. He was assisted in this project by Father Christian Hoecken, and three lay-brothers, Andrew Mazella, Ed-mund Barry, and George Miles. The missionaries met with a cordial reception from the chiefs and people. A French trader, who lived with the tribe, put his house at their disposal, until they should build their own. Hardly had they settled down in their new quarters, when both priests were stricken with ill-ness. Father Charles had to stay in bed for a month. Worse yet, the Indian agent, Richard Cummings, would not permit' the Jesuits to build in the Kickapoo village. Not until General Clark sent word from St. Louis that permission had been given by Secretary Lewis Cass build ~a school among the Kickapoo, could the Jesuits erect a school, chapel, and residence. The head chief of the tribe, Pashishi, professed great eagerness to have the missionaries instruct the children and work for the conversion of his people. His influence, however; was considerably less than that of a notorious 'prophet,' named Kennekuk, who claimed to have received authority from the Great Spirit tostart a religion of own. For a while he manifested some interest in the teach-ings of Christianity but soon roused his followers to un-friendly demonstrations. He had so firm a hold on the minds of his people that once he took a hostile attitude toward the Jesuit missionaries, all hope of converting the tribe vanished. Two years of unremitting toil made very little impression on the Kickapoo, and neighboring tribes were so eager to have the missionaries teach their children that the former mission was abandoned and new one opened among the Pottawatomi, which proved eminently successful. But Father van Quickenborne was destined to have no part in it. His failing health and rigid disposition caused his superior to recall him in July, 1837. After a brief stay at St. Louis University, he went to Florissant to make his annual retreat. Next he proceeded to St. Charles and thence to Portage des Sioux, a village situated a few miles, north of St. Charles and near the junction of the Missouri~ and Mississippi rivers. Here he exchanged places with Father Verreydt, who went to the Indian country, while Father Charles became pastoy of this small parish. He had been only a few days in Portage when a bilious fever seized him. The last sacraments were administered to him, and on August 17, 1837, he breathed his last. His body, ac-companied by many parishioners, was interred in the cemetery in St. Charles but was later removed to the novitiate cemetery in Florissant. Father van Quickenborne was in a true sense a pioneer missionary, who labored zealously during fourteen years for the spiritual interests of both whites and Indians. Those who knew him intimately comment on his clear and orderly mind, his fluency in several languages, his accurate knowledge of theology, his eloquent discourses. He never spared himself in his efforts to assist others, and despite the rigorous attitude he at times assumed towards others, he was loved and admired by all who knew him. Since he trained the first members of the Missouri mission all by himself, he can justly be called the founder of the Jesuit establishments in the Midwest. The mission which he started became a vice-province in 1840, a province in 1863, which was divided into two provinces in 1928, and both: were again subdivided in 1955. These four provinces today have a total membership of more than 2500. They administer seven universities, ten colleges, twelve high schools, and eight retreat houses, and there are more than three hundred members in foreign mission work. John Gilmary Shea, the great historian of the North American missions, says: "To Father van Quickenborne, as founder of the vice-province of Missouri and its Indian missions, too little honor has been paid. His name is al-most unknown, ~yet few have contributed more to the edification of the white and the civilization of the red man, to the sanctification of all.''~ ~John Gilmary Shea, History o] the Catholic Missions among the Indian Tribes o] the United States, 1529-1854 (New York: Edward -Dunigan and Brother, 1855), p. 466. + + + ~'an Qugckenbome VOLUME 20, 1961 97 JOHN E. BECKER,S. J. We Have Seen His Glory: The Prologue to St. John ÷ ÷ .÷ John E. Becker, S.J., St. Mary's Colleg.e, St. Marys, Kansas, ~s an assistant editor of the REVtEW. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 98 In the beginning God created, heaven and earth In the beginning was the Word God's immense knowledge includes within itself His own infinite nature and all of the reality which He has given us and with which He surrounds us. Yet it is but one eternal and unchanging truth in God's mind. And when-ever He speaks, He speaks that one truth, Himself. But it is impossible for God to speak this immense truth, in the simple way He understands it, to our poor time-bound minds. We cannot grasp things in simplicity. We need more than to hear a truth. We need to be taught it, to have our minds brought up to it, educated to it. This is true of each of us individually. Over and over, we must be told the truths about God. We must be taught them at each point in our growth. Finally they begin to dawn for us in our minds as our own secure convictions. But the education that we as individuals go through depends upon another education which is just as impor-tant, and without which we ourselves would never have learned ab6ut God. This bther education is the education of our race, the race of men. We have learned many things about nature, but we have learned them together, the giants of the past teaching the giants of today, and they in their turn handing on their knowledge to tomorrow's giants. Our knowledge is passed on in ever-increasing rich-ness from generation to generation. Simply the mere pass-ing it on occupies many thousands of men and women for whole lifetimes as teachers, and the learning of it fills all the years of our lives, in school and out. This need man has to be educated through centuries of time is a part of him that he cannot escape. The great- est genius can only teach men what their minds have been prepared to grasp. And God, who made us this way, ~must speak to us, too, and teach us in tl~e gradual way that He has made necessary to us. So His divine revelation is a progressing and developing education of the human race. It bridges over the immense gap .between our time-bound and intricate minds and God's timeless simplicity. By His own choice He speaks eternal and immense thoughts to us in fragments communicated throughout time and space. It is a lesson in God's fatherly care for us to know that He has done it with such infinite and careful patience. How has He done it? Among a chosen people at the beginning of the story of our salvation, He planted,a seed of a thought: "In the beginning.God created heaven and earth." The thought is the thought of the one God who made all things. And these people fought and died, sub fered, rejected the truth, and repented through centuries: of history to pres.erve that seed and foster its growth. And through centuries God builds on this tiny germ of truth, constantly stretching the faith of His people by new reve-lations, always prep~aring them to accept the full flowering. of .that seed in~ the great, final revelation of Himself that will take place in the Incarnation of our Lord Jesus Christ. Then, when the fullness of revelation had come down to the earth and walked it, a~s a Divine Person, God inspired St. John to begin the record of this marvelous event with a magnificent poetic vision showiiag us how God had~been patient all these years, patiently teaching, correcting; educating, stretching faith to accept this cli-mactic revelation of the immense truth about God. By beginning his gospel with the ancient words of the book of Genesis, St. John shows us that through all these cen-turies of revelation God has spoken but one sentence. And though his gospel is to be a record of new and ultimate revelations.made by Christ our Lord, still how careful St; John is to show us that each new truth that appears is really nothing new or changed about God. Rather, it is a new insight and a richer knowledge of that immense and inexhaustible reality which is the one God who begins His Sacred Scripture and who brings it to an end. In the beginning was the Wor, d And the Word was with God And He was God, this Word He was at the beginning with God How did God go about this marvelous education of the Jews? How did He prepare them, and what was it He pre- ~a~ed them to accept? We have alw~iys known that throtig~ those long years of threats and tender promises God nurs~ed in them the knowledge that He was One, the God ÷ ÷ ÷ Prologue to St. lohn VOLUME 20, 1961 99 + + ÷ gohn E. Becket, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]oo of all nations, the God that had no rival gods. But there: was more to His teaching about Himself than this. We had to know more than His oneness, or we could never ap-preciate the redemption by which He was to save us. We had to be able to accept the reality of Another, alsoGod, the same God, in order to recognize the infinite love that God would show in coming to be one of us. Even in the Old Testament God was preparing us to accept the su-preme mystery of the most Blessed Trinity. Over centuries of time God prepared mankind, with hints and mysterious intimations, to accept this other per-son. First, He taught His people the Law. But He taught it in such a way that it became for them, under the guid-ance of their inspired teachers, more than just a rule of life. They thought more and more of the Law as another being, ordering and governing the whole universe, some-how existing in its own right. God's inspired writers spoke too of Wisdom; and again His people, receiving with faith the guidance which God gave them through their teachers, began to think of this divine Wisdom as something distinct from God, sent by Him upon the earth: "The Lord possessed me. in the beginning of his ways. I was set up from eternity., the depths were not as yet, and I was already conceived. Wisdom is with thee, which knoweth thy works. All wisdom is from the Lord God, and hath been always with him. I came out of the mouth of the most High. From the beginning and before the world, was I created . " In two texts of Scrip-tures especially we can see how God led His inspired writ-ers toward the culminating simplicity of St. John's revela-tion of the Word: "While all things were in quiet silence, and the night was in the midst of her course, thy almighty Word leapt down from heaven from thy royal throne, as a fierce conqueror into the midst of the land of destruc-tion. With a sharp sword carrying thy unfeigned com-mandment, and he stood and filled all things with death, and standing on the earth reached even to heaven"(Wis 18:14-16). And even closer to the full clarity of St. John was this from Isaiah: "As the rain and the snow come down from heaven, and return no more thither, but soak the earth, ~tnd water it and make it to spring., so shall my Word be, which shall go forth from my mouth: it shall not return to me void, but it shall do whatsoever I please, and shall prosper in the things for which I sent it" (55:10). Our Lord's life on earth took place during an age of intense religious uncertainty and desperate religious quest. But it is strangely enough true that almost every groping philosophy of the time centered around a principle called the Word. It was almosta magic formula. To the Stoic it meant the mind of God whose strong sunlight was divided into little sparks which were the minds of individual men. To Philo, a Jewish gentile philosopher, it was a person who pervaded all God's activity, and all the creatures of God's activity. To all the philosophers it was the one principle of order in the chaQs o~f. the world.~ Of, course, the Jews knew that God had made all creation by His mere word. God's ~word had always been an infinitely powerful thing in their minds. Now when St. John calls Christ our Lord the Word, he proves the validity of God's long and careful education of the human race toward faith,in the Word of God. It is a sad and fr_ightening realization for all of us that so maony of God's,chosen race failed to respond with the faith God had so carefully prepared" them for. In a probing vision of faith, St. John realized that the pagans with their philosophies Of the Word meant, if they could but see it, Christ;. that the Jews with their devotion to the Law, to Wisdom, to God's almighty word, had been educated to know the eternal Word. Because of this deep insight of supernatural faith, the abstract, eternal, and unchanging i'eality demanded by the minds of the pagan philosophers and the concrete, changing, and temporal reality forced upon their senses were reconciled into one truth. St. John's gospel stands alone for seeing the eternity, the infinity,, the timeless immensity of God walking in the finite flesh of our Lord. The single human actions of His life are put into a story in which we can also see that these are eternal ac.tions, of eternal worth, universal and eternal in mean- .ing. All history becomes in this vision not so much a thing of time but a phase of eternity. We see through the lens of an inspired faith that human life takes place in more than material dimensions. Christ's daily life is the eternal God teaching by action the eternal truths in the tiny dimen-sions of time. Our life becomes, in spite of its abrupt be-ginning and abrupt end, an eternally rewarded effort to learn and put into practice these eternal truths. Through the lens of this vision we see that the impor-tant beginning of this history of salvation was not in time, was not on a hillside of Nazareth, Bethlehem, or Calvary. The real beginning of the life story of Christ our Lord and of the life of man in God was not His.virginal conception, nor His birth in a cave, nor His baptism at the Jordan, but eternity with God: He was in the beginning with God. Everything was made by Him, And without Him was made nothing. Even when we recognize that the beginning of our sal-vation is back in the far reaches of divine eternity, in the Word who was with God, and even when we see that God has been preparing us for centuries to accept this fact, we 4. + + Prologue to St. John VOLUME 20, 1961 10] John E. Becket, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS have yet to appreciate how intimate a part this divine Word has played in the very creation of our world, and even in the divine education which wehave received. God fixed His eye on the eternal Word as He spoke the words of creation. All God's creatures were ordered according the Word's divine ordination: All the laws of their were made on the pattern of the Word. This is much the case that when we study the divine order creation, the laws of molecular structure, of the develop-ment of phyla, its supremely rich but ordered abundance, we are studying the natural phrases and sentences of God's eternal Word. Without Him was made nothing; nothing escapes His ordering power not even the man who sins. We would think that the sinner, having deliberately stepped outside this divine order, would have lost the privilege of participating in the guidance of God. though we may sin, we cannot step aside from God. The original sin of Adam and all that sequel of human which ratifies that original disorder sewn in our nature Adam, furnishes but the occasion for the Word of God be spoken ag~iin. Through Him all 'things were made. Now, on account of sin, He is spoken in a new way that binds Him even more intimately to his now sinful crea-tion, for: That.which was made in Him was li[e, And the life was the light of men, And the light, in the shadows, shown, And the shadows did not put it out. As once all things were created by the Word, now a new thing is created in Him: That which was made in Him life. Man has sinned, and so the Word becomes the source of a new life for him: and the life was the light of men. The Word is not renewed. The old is not revived. But the Word is respoken in a new creation that more fully ex-presses it. Men find in Him now, not only the pattern their existence and their perfection, but the source of new life, a life which always existed for God, which was once given to them and lost, but which now exists again a reality for them. And the light, in the shadows, shown, and the shadows did not put it out. This new life which a light for men wins the Victory over man's darkness. We can follow th~se-threads of life, light, and darkness throughout the gospel of St. John. They are dominant colors in his message. God has'outdone His first gift us, natural created life, made by His Word, with a super-natural creation, with .a supernatural life also produced, but in His Word.~Adam's sin,made our human life shadowy life of undirected uncertainty and groping. Think of the vague yearnings of the Jewish people, and they were under the educating guidance of God; even' more, think of the pathetic religious foolishness of the pa.gan world whose nature religions could never free themselves from the orgiastic worship of the sex power. But our world, lost in the shadows of sin, is not lost to God. Rather than destroy,.it and' produce ~a n.ew, un-shadowed, sinless world through His Word, God builds a new life for us within the lost world. We live now in the Word. We find only one meaning of lile in St. John; the life of God communicated to men. Christ our Lord com-municated God's life to us by becoming one of us and remaining God. That is the story of St. John's gospel, of all the gospels. Christ assumed humanity to be able to suffer for our redemption, to be able to produce a new life for men. The flow of Divine Life which He injects into us is also, because of His teaching about God, a stream of light within us, who would otherwise be' groping in darkness toward an unknown deity. He has shown us clearly who the God is whom we must seek. And so the shadows on our uncertain consciences are dispelled, and we find ourselves on a clear road towards God, filled with confidence. Our human nature has been taken into the divinity, and God has produced for us there within Himself the new life which saves us from darkness and sin. There is no poem in English with such compleie sim-plicity of expression. Yet in these five verses we have dis-covered the whole history of God's dealings with us. They present us with an immense, vision which extends from the first moment of creation, through the Incarnation, to the end of time when men living in Christ will be gathered to Christ in the fullness of life. The whole history of our race is involved, yet we see it all from the vantage point of God'.soeternity and catch sight of what it means to call God's knowledge infinitely simple. It is all one eternal speaking of the Word by God: It first bears fruit in the creation of our material world; then in a new act of union with this world a new life is produced in it; this new life of supernatural union with God is finally to conduct us all to our final union with God in heaven for et.ernity. In this vision of faith, all history is a moment of eternity, a moment containing creation, divine union with man, and man's final reunion with God in eternity. There appeared a man sent [rom God: his name was John. He came [or a witness, to witness concerning the Light, so that all might believe through Him. He was not, this man, the Light, but [or a witness con-cerning the Light. Christ's precursor is but a man, rooted in the obvious dimensions of human time. He "is not near the stature of Christ. He happens, he appears; Christ is. He is not ÷ ÷ ÷ Prologue to St. ]oh.n VOLUME 20, 1961, 103 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]04 the light but only its witness. This brief, blunt, and prosaic interposition of a man within' our vision of eternity is an admonition to us, and a sign to us of the way St. John views reality. This simple prose in the midst of the poetry of eternity reminds us that we are never to let the human reality and the divine reality become separated in our minds. The life of Christ has fused the two for all eternity, and St. John is writing the story of that life. The simple historical surroundings and activities of Christ's life are making history, yet they go beyond history. The time-bound precursor of Christ is, by the decree of God, an eternally necessary, eternally important actor in God's redemptive drama. He is a sign to us that we too are eternally important, because we live with the life of the eternal Word. He was the true Light, Who enlightens every man Coming into the world. First there was God and the Word; then it is clear to us that the Word is God. The two are one. After all things are made through the Word, then supernatural Life is made in the Word, and this life is Light for men. Now again we reflect and realize that all these truths are drawn together into one truth in God. Life and Light, that which is produced in the Word, is really the Word; and the Word is God Himself, the source and goal of all our human life, natural and supernatural, the source and full enlightenment of all our knowledge, natural and su-pernatural. How does God, the Word, who is Life and Light in Himself become life and light for us? By coming into the world. We are fused with divinity when Christ takes human flesh so that the inaccessible light of eternity speaks in human words to Jews on the hillsides of Pales-tine and to all of us in the gospels; and the inaccessible life of eternity gives life to human tissues nourished from the body of Mary. And this divine-human talking and living is not over with. That once-and-for-all coming of the true Light into the world was the beginning of an unlimited number of comings. He comes now to each of us who will accept Him. He gives light, the teachings of His Church; and life, the sacramental life force which comes from His body through the ordained priesthood that He left behind Him. Light and life are in the Word because He is God; but light and life are given to man because that same Word has become man, made Himself available to man, placed Himself before us so that we may choose to unite ourselves to Him. There is no answering the question Why. We can only point to the strength of God's love. But if we ask why, we are uncovering, perhaps, false thoughts in our- selves. Have we ever realized how fully the Word had already involved Himself in the history and materiality of the world before He took this final step that brings Him visibly into the world? Why should we ask why to this last step? We should ask why'~t0 everything, not just to the Incarnation. God's eternal love has joined Himself to every moment of the world's existence. The Incarnation was simply the climax: In the world He was, And the world was made by Him And the world did not recognize Him Into His own He came And His own did not receive Him In the world He was from the first moment giving that moment and every succeeding moment its reality. The steady and balanced revolution of spinning worlds, and the quiet and inexorable change of seasons from death to life 'and.back to death and another life are His work and His teaching. He is the concurrent force, giving foufida-tion to the thoughts of the earliest'men and effectiveness to all their desires, holy or perverse. But the forceful message of all this rich physical reality is not heard. Though anything, simply because it exists, speaks of, the presence of God the creator, the fa~t Of creation failed to penetrate the darkness of immorality and sin that kept men "from recognizing the world as the words of God's eternal Word. God's Word speaks in a new way, trying by a new means to attract man's wayward attention. He chooses a man, Abraham, and tells the man he will beget a people. The Jewish race is born, and becomes God's own: I will be your God and you will be my people. And as this people grows through crisis, sin, and exile, the Word of God con-tinues to speak to them, residing in their Holy .of Holies, dictating their Law, guiding their history, inspiring the poetry of their kings and prophets. But all of it leads over and over again to relapses into idolatry and paganism, into infidelity and' hardness of heart, and finally into the degenerate Pharisaism that will not accept Him no matter what means He takes to speak to them: Into His own He came and His own did not receive Him. But all those who received Him He gave them power to become children o[ God, To those who believe in His name He who neither oI blood, nor (o[ a desire) o] the l~esh, (nor ot a desire ot man), But of God was generated. Not all o~ His own rejected Him, and between those who did and those who did not, a new dividing line is ÷ ÷ ÷ Prologue to VOLUME 20, 1961 105 gohn E. Becket, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS drawn. Once "it had been drawn by God between the Jew and" the idolatrous gentile. Gradually it shifted, so that it divided the Jews themselves. Only a faithful remnant was loyal to God and would receive the benefits of the Mes-sianic kingdom; the rest were Jews in blood and name only, This division started to break up the Jewish world even before the actual coining of Christ in human form. But this breakdown of Jewish unity was turned to,our good by God. it was the way God purged His revelation of Jewish nationalism, and it became the foundation for a new way of thinking among .those.Jews who accepted Christ. God's careful, educating hand was still at work, showing them that no longer was it important to be a Jew. Now all that is important is to accept Christ. For all who receive Him are God's people; Jews and gentiles become one people when they become Christians. Everyone who bears the human nature tbat Christ assumed~may now re-ceive life from Him. And receiving our life from God means becoming God's children. There is a difference, though, in our being tbe children of God and the children of h.uman parents. We received the life of our parents all unconscious of the gift. Christians, .even though they receive Baptism as infants, must eventually assent to their divine childhood consciously and willingly by ac-cepting the W~rd, Christ our Lord. It is one more proof of God's infinite wisdom that He need not interfere here with the nature He has created in us when He gives us new life. Rather tban rebuild our nature so that they l.ive automatically with divine life, He stands by His own primeval decision to leave us free. We may live a hum;in life that is dead to God. Or we may accept God's~offer; we may choose to receive Christ and become the .cbildren of God. Still, though He, has not remolded nature, Hhat He ¯ has dgne is miracle enough. To be God's child means to live with the life of God, just as to,be a h~uman child means to live with the human life of our parents. When We choose to accept Christ, by that very fact we make oui'- selves one with Him. One with Him, grafted on to Him, we live with His life. His life is the life of a Son; and so we, united to Him and living His life, live the life of sons, the life which, the only-begotten Son has received from His Father. Christ is so perfectly God's Son as to be God: I am in the Father and the Father is in me. United to the Son of God in a real oneness of life, we too are made sons. Our divine childhood is not a childhood of the flesh, be-cause Christ's sonship is not a sonship of the flesh. He who gives us power to become the children of God is He,who, neither of blood, nor o~ a desire of the flesh, nor of a de-sire of man, but of God is generated. Our own fathers, in a single moment, by the act of married love which gen-erates us, are only at that moment acting upon us with a real activity which is properly fatherhood. The action is over in a moment. ~But Christ, the. Son of God, is being eternally generated of God'. Our mothers beai" us in their bodies for nine months during which their bodies are ceaselessly active nourishing and protecting our growth. Btit even in that time of intimate and complete depend-ence we are separated from them. Physically our mother surrounds,fis. But she is not us. And her physical mother- ~hood is soon over. But Christ, the Son Of God, is so inti-mately one with God that together they are but one God; and the action of giving and receiving divine life between the Father and the Son never ceases to be a dynamic and intense activity. Christ is always the Son of the Father, not because the Father once launched Him forth into sep-arated existence, but because He is always being gen-erated by the Father and never is separated from Him. All fatherhood on earth is named fatherhood after this eternal fathering forth o~ the Son by His divine Father. Earthly fatherhood, momentary and fleeting, is its weak reflection. And just as Christ the Son of God is the eternal recipient of divine life, we, because we are grafted onto His life, are eternal recipients of divine life. By a ceaseless activity that never leaves us to separate and independent existence we are God's sons--unless we break the bond that seals us to Christ. But in knowing all this we know only the beginning. There is greater depth to the divine sonship still. Christ is the Word of God, as well as His Son. To find out what this implies about His sonship, we submit ourselves to the careful teaching of God again, through His inspired representative, St. John, who named Christ the"Word. A word is the product of a mind. And the mind is spirit. We must free our idea of fatherhood, then, from the fleshly concepts that could obscure it when we apply it to God. God's eternal wisdom is in the, Father as in an eternal mind. But it is in the Son as a thought contained in a word. But, like human fatherhood, human words are momentary, vibrations of sound or mental flashes.of un-derstanding. Christ, however, is not a momentary flash of God's knowledge. He is the eternal container of the thought of God, the eternal expression of the mind of the Father. And so eternal generation is more like the eternal production of an eternal word which contains all the divine and infinite nature of God. Christ's sonship is a spiritual sonship like that which exists between a word that perfectly expresses a mind and that needs no flesh to be real. It is no wonder, then, that Christ's sonship of the Blessed Virgin Mary~ though it is a sonship by which He derives His flesh fro,n her Prologue to St. John VOkUME 20, 1961 107 ./ohn E. Be~/~, SJ. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]08 body, should be a virginal sonship, free of the desires the flesh. Christ's infinite spiritual generation in heaven expressed in his virginal generation on earth. We are once more witnesses to the imprint of eternity on the events of time which characterizes the plan of our salvation. This second vision of faith, which St. John has projected in verses six to thirteen, has carried us again into the depths of eternity. This time it shows us that before we received the s0nship of the Word as our own life, we had been prepared by the very presence of this Word in the Law and the poetry of the Old Testament. Even before these things there was the presence of the Word in creation itself, though men failed to see Him there. Finally, before all the activity of the Son in the creation of the world and its redemption, was His eternal conception in the mind the Father as an eternal Word who contains all the divinity of the Father. And all that has happened in time, from the creation to the present moment, are but different ways in which God speaks His eternal Word to us, ways which develop and move forward with the growth of our power to appreciate God in ever clearer and more explicit realiza-tions until the ultimate climax when God no longer con-fines Himself to forming the universe through His Word, but clothes His Word in the very material of the uni-verse: And so the Word became [tesh And He made His home among us And we have seen His Glory Glory belonging to the only Son (coming) from the Father, .Full o[ grace and truth. God, in this last speaking of His Word has destroyed the distances between us. There is more, now, than com-munication between us. There is intimacy. The infinitely self-contained and perfect divinity projected the world and mingled with it to preserve its being. He intruded into world history to choose a people. With the Jews God took up His residence. He pitched His tent among them, as they delight to say over and over in their songs of praise to Him. His unseen glory was present in the ark. This was part of the covenant He made with them after He guided them by day and night from Egypt to the promised land in a pillar of cloud and a pillar of fire. At the dedication of their great Temple, God's glory filled the Holy Holies. But now this eternal ,Word, who sought out Abra-ham and made His promises to him, who spoke in the Law and the Prophets, in poets, historians, and storytellers of the Old Testament, is no longer satisfied to speak through others. He speaks in His own Person. All the di-vinity of the Word which had manifested itself in these ways through centuries, now resides in this human flesh, not as a mere inhabitant, but as one person with it. The body of Christ is God's new home among men. That unspeakable glory of God which filled the Holy of Holies fills now the flesh of a man and makes it the flesh of. the Son of God. And the invisible glory of the only-begotten Son, when it comes from the Father into human flesh, is no longer invisible, but seen, Men have seen His glory. We might expect glory to be a word connected with the miracle of the transfiguration which took place before St.John's eyes on Mount Tabor. But whenever we find St. John using this word, we find the passion and death of our Lord: "The time has come for the Son of Man to be glorified" (12:~3). When Judas leaves the supper to betray our Lord, He says, "Now the Son of Man has been glori-fied, and God has been glorified, through him, and God will through himself glorify him; he will glorify him immediately" (13:31-32). And in His last discourse to His disciples our Lord says: "Father, glorify your son that your son may glori.~y you (17:2). I have glorified you here on earth, by completing the work which you gave me to do. Now, Father, glorify me in your presence as I had done me there before the world existed (17:5). I have given them the glory that you gave me, so that they may be one just as we are, I in union with them and you with me, so that they may be perfectly unified, and the world may recognize that you sent me and that you love them just as 'you loved me. Father, I wish to have those whom you have given me with me where I am, to see my glory that you have given me, for you loved me before the cre-ation of the world" (17:22-2'1). The glory that is His Fa-ther's love for Him becomes the glory of the love of the Father and the Son for us when Christ suffers for us to make us God's sons. Passion and death are things that would have been impossible to God unless He had taken upon Himself a human nature. But when it is done, we see a new and startling vision of the glory of God, a new vision which is a paradox; the invisible'and awesome glory that filled the Holy of Holies is brightened to a climax at the time of God's suffering and at the moment of His death. If there is paradox here, there must also be meaning. Paradox is a challenge to our deeper thought. If passion and death are the climax of God's glory, its fullest ex-pression, what can God's glory be or mean? There is cre-ation. When we think of its immensity, the hugeness of the forces unleashed in the exploding universe, we catch our breath and lose track of our mathematical securities. But this is not a full picture of God's glory. It is only a first, rough sketch. When we think of the delicacy of craftmanship that enabled a tiny planet to nurture life, Prologue to St. John VOLUME 20, 1961 109 ÷ ÷ ÷ $ohn E. Becke~, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 1]0 we may melt at the tenderness that reigns in a theatre of such violent forces, but we know again that it is not the full expression of God's glory. There is the Old Law when this all-powerful and tender God chooses to interfere in our pitiful history, chooses a nomad tribe and guides its destiny through hundreds of years of war and infidelity so that a few men at least will know that He is the God who is, in spite of their stubbornness and disinterest. This infinite humility of the omnipotent God, who cares that man's blindness be cured, speaks more clearly of God's glory but still falls, short of it. What is amazing is that none of this turns out to be any hint a.t all of what the full revelation of God's glory will be. How could we have guessed that the full burst of it would be a criminal execution on a Judean hill? Yet just this fiaeek submission to suffering and this most shameful of all deaths is the climax and full unveiling of the glory of God. God's glory is supremely expressed in His choice to suffer and die, to do those things which are the deepest badge of our sinful and fallen nature. The glory which Christ, the eternal Word, had before all ,time in the bosom of His Father is that extremity of love which leads Him to take up the nature of His sinful creature, suffer for him, and lay, down that life which, because it is the perfect ex-pression of the union of God with us, is the supreme gift which He can give to redeem us. And this glory of God, God's passion, is not for our contemplation alone, or for our deepest meditation. "If I be lifted up, I will draw all men to myself." It is magnetic force, :a force for union. We are drawn to Him, and all of us become one in. Him as the Father in Him and He in the Father. To a certain extent we are here meditating on poetry. In the context of our lives, however, it is more. It is an appeal to us to recognize the unity that exists now between time and eternity, space and divine im-mensity, and especially b.etween Christian and Christian. Little children love one another. We read here truth after truth, and they are many truths. But each separate truth, as it is presented to us, is set back into a mysterious and all embracing unity in God: The Word appears, but He is with God;° He is God. Creation emei'ges, through the Word; but then begins its long and relentless motion back towards God. Why this great return? Because the Word, who is one with God, has come forth from God and joined creation to Himself, pervading it by creative activ-ity, coming unto His own in word' and then in person, producing within Himself a new life for the created world to live in Him, making men God's sons and drawing them all and the creation that is theirs back to the bosom of His Father with whom He is but one. We, of course, must put ourselves back into this marvelous current o,f the life of God which is flowing back to Him. It cannot be ours unless we receive Him, and we can refuse Him. But if we are drawn to Him in the glory'of His Cross as it is renewed every morning at Mass, we will accept Him into our bodies in t~e sacrament of the Eucharist. We become, ourselves the dwelling place of the glory of God;. for we are the dwelling place of the flesh of Christ. All of us, marching back through time to happiness in eternity, become one in this divine life which nourishes us all. The glory of God walks about on the streets. It is in us and about us, We are His holy people united to Him and to each other in the reception of His body, all making up with Him but one body. Our temporal actions, walking the asphalt streets of our own moment of history, are eternal actions; our limited circle of friends and acquaintances is stretched to include all men, and they are all the focal point in time of our eternal love for Christ, because He is in them all. We se~ ii ~veryday in all meri, the glory o[ the onl~-b,e~g'ot~en Son of God, full of grace and truth. Prologue to $L loh~ VOLUME 20, 1961 111 COLUMBAN BROWNING, C.P. Martyrdom and the Religious Life The Reverend Colum-ban Browning, a fre~ quent contributor to the l~viEw, is sta-tioned at Saint Gabriel Monastery, 1100 63rd St., Des Moines 11, Iowa. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 112 Our twentieth century world prides itself on being mod-ern. And to the residents of our twentieth century, mod-ern implies everything that reflects the progress of this century. Efficiency, freshness of ideas, technological ad-vance- such things as these come to mind when we think of the word modern. Even twentieth century religious pride themselves as being modern in the best sense of the word. Since Pius XII inaugurated the movement toward adaptation to the needs of the times, the religious of today cannot avoid being modern unless he wishes to be branded with the stigma of retrogression. The response to the plea of Plus XII al-ready realized gives sufficient proof of the importance of making full use of all that is good in the progress of our age for the glory of God. But we religious can become so absorbed in our mod-ernity that we may forget that the motivation for the re-ligious life must always be the same and that it comes from the time of Christ Himself. This is why Plus always stressed renovation along with adaptation. While the approach may vary with the changing times, the mo-tivation is unchangeable. And for this motivation we must return repeatedly to the very sources of Christianity. The sources of Christianity are found primarily in the life and teaching of our Lord, a teaching enshrined in the Church that He founded. But also in the application of Christ's teaching in the early Church is found a very real source at which to learn the spirit of Christ in action. In those early days when the spirit of Christ was in the fresh-ness of its youth, we can find ideas to help us in our day to be better followers of Christ. One such idea that can be especially fruitful to this end is found in the historical fact that the religious life evolved in the Church as a sub-stitute for martyrdom. 1. Martyrdom and Christian Per[ection Martyrdom became a practical necessity in the early days of the Church. The infant Church soon came face to face with the persecution for~t,o, ld by Christ. Espec!ally in the Roman world did this 15ersec'u~ion reach the' pitch of fury. Beginning with the Emperor Nero in the first century and continuing for two and a half centuries, it was con-sidered unlawful to be a Christian. One who professed the faith of Christ, if detected, was given the alternatives" of apostasy or death. The story of the heroic courage with which so many thousands stood firm in the face of death is too familiar to retell. The resemblance of the death of the martyrs to that of Christ was evident to the early Christians. Just as Christ died a violent death in testimony to the truth, so also did the martyr. It is but natural, then, that martyrdom was seen as a dying with Christ. Just as logically, the martyr was considered the perfect imitator of Christ or the per-fect exemplificatibn of' Christian perfection. It is not sur-prising, therefor-e, that'we find the pastor~ and writers of those times exhorting the Christians to martyrdom as the means to perfect union with Christ. One need only study the example and the writings of St. Ignatius of Antioch to see how firmly rooted this thought was in the early Christian mind. During the reign of Trajan, this great Bishop was sentenced to death and sent to Rome to be thrown to the beasts. During his journey to Rome as a prisoner he wrote seven letter~ to the churches of the territories through which he passed. These letters reflect the burning desire of his soul to be perfectly united to Christ by martyrdom. His sentiments are most forcefully expressed in his letter to the Romans in which he writes as follows~ I am writing to all the Churches and state emphatically to all that I die willingly for God, provided you do not interfere. I beg you, do not show me unreasonable kindness. Suffer me to be the food of wild beasts, which are the means of making my way to God. God's wheat I am, and by the teeth of wild beasts I am to be ground that I may prove Christ's bread. Better still, coax the wild beasts to become my tomb and leave no part of my person behind;once I have fallen asleep I do not wish to be a burden to anyone. Then only shall I be a genuine disciple of Jesus Christ when the world will not even see my body . Forgive me, brethren; do not obstruct my coming to life-- do not wish me to die; do not make a gift to the world of one who wants to be God's. Beware of seducing me with matter; suffer me to receive pure light. Once arrived there, I shall be.a man. Permit me to be an imitator of my suffering God. Since martyrdom and perfect union with Christ meant one and the same thing, life itself was looked upon as a preparation for martyrdom. All asceticism was considered from this point of view. It was by dying to one's passions ÷ ÷ ÷ Martyrdom and Religious Li]e VOLUME 20, 1961 llS ,4, ÷ ÷ Columban Browning, C.I'. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 114 that one most resembled the martyrs and best prepared oneself for the supreme challenge. Origen expressed this in these words: "Those who have prepared themselves for martyrdom can even already be called martyrs, even though they may never undergo it." Time came when the pcrsecutions diminished and fi-nally ceased wi~h the Edict of Milan in 313 A.D. With tffe ,essation of persecntion actual martyrdom was no longer a possibility, but the ideal of martyrdom remained alive in the minds of the faithful. Since martyrdom by blood was no longer possible, a new emphasis was placed on asceti-cism which was looked upon as a martyrdom without blood. Martyrdom was still considered the ideal of per-fection; and those who most reSembled the martyrs by death to self, or ascesis, were considered the most perfect. II. Martyrdom and Virginity Among the practices of asceticism, that of ~irginit'y was held in an especial high esteem. The practice of virginity had been a high ideal and ~vas actually practiced from the beginning in imitation of our Lord and His Blessed Mother. But when persecution ceased, virginity received a new status as one of the foremost means of dying a .rnartyr's death without the shedding of blood. The virgin was con-sidered as wedded to Christ by a mystical marriage through grace. By complete death to the urgings of the body, the virgin, like the martyr, achieved a complete surrender to Christ, died with Him and became a perfect imitator of Him. St. Jerome expressing this thought said: "Virginity is a holocaust to God. Complete chastity is a victim to Christ." Thus, the white martyrdom of virginity, by a process of evolution conditioned by history, succeeded to martyrdom by blood as the equivalent of Christian per-fection. Living a virginal life in the midst of a wo}ld that still contained much of the pagan spirit obviously had its difficulties. As something of a moral necessity, therefore, those consecrated to God by the vow of virginity began to, band.together for mutual support. ~They often lived in common, prayed together and by mutual encouragement helped each other to their common g0al of perfect union with Christ. In this practice we have a foreshadowing and a natural preparation for the religious life. III. Martyrdom, Virginity and the R.eligious Lile The ground had been prepared for the birth of monaS-ticism, or organized religious life. Toward the end of the third century whefi the persecutions were beginning to lose some of their force, the practice of the eremitical life began in Egypt. In the year 320 (only seven years after the Edict of Milan), St. Pachomius founded the first monastery of the common,life, Some forty years later S.t.,Basil estab-lished the same form of life in the Eastern Church. With the virginal spirit already so high in honor and with so. many in fact already living the~eremitical life, it is not surprising that th.ese :m0~n.aster.ies flourishe~l.;Those. who desired perfect union with Christ and for whom martyrdom was,no 19nger possible flocked to these monas-teries. T~here, united in pra~er, these generous men and women were able to find a kind of native atmosphere in which to realize their ambition of perfect union with Christ by the "living martyrdom,' of the religious life. With the origin of monasticism there began a new epoch of Christian history, one that is still unfolding today. This is the history of the religious life. From one or two monas-teries, the fire of zeal that started them spread until it gradually covered the entire world. The organized life of consecration to God has gone through many stages of evolution, all of them prompted by the changing events of history. All through the ages the religious life has been adapting itself to the needs of the times until we find the greater percentage of religious today extremely active, whereas the religious of those early days were largely con-templative. But the religious of today are nonetheless branches of the same tree and the essential motivation of the religious life remains the same. IV. Practical Application Plus XII frequently urged religious to return to the sources of their life. Along with adaptation to modern needs, he stressed with equal insistence the need for renovation. The Holy Father realized that it is only when the spirit of zeal and fervor is pregerved and deepened that we can safely and sanely adapt, bringing the best effort to bear on the needs of the times. In striving to achieve this purpose, the religious of today would do well to endeavour to capture the spirit in which the religious life was founded. When we see the religious life as an outgrowth of and a s,bstitute for martyrdom, what a difference it can make in one's approach to the religious life. One sees clearly that the goal of religious living is perfect conformity to Christ, a wholehearted dying to self and complete living with and for Christ. The sacrifices inherent in the religious vows, resistance of the spirit of the modern world, the pressures and frustrations of daily activity in the life of the modern religious--all will be seen in a new.light when one realizes that these are but aspects of that death with Christ which leads to union with Him. It is by these daily sacrifices that the religious of our day are called to the same con-formity with Christ that was the goal of the martyrs. ÷ ÷ Martyrdom, and Religious Liye VOLUME 20, 1961 Lack of Sufficient motivation is ordinarily one of the greatest hindrances to the progress of a religious. It may help religious to ponder the fact that the vocation of the religious is essentially the same as that of the martyrs. The manner of realization may differ according to circum-stances. But the goal is identical--the wholehearted giving of self to Christ, dying with Him in order to live with Him. ÷ ÷ ÷ Coluraban Browning, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS llfi PAX The Call of God There have always b'een, and.always will be, voclttions. One has only to run through the pages 6f both Old and New Testaments to see that Goff has always called souls to consecrate themselves to Him or to serve Him or to come.back to Him. The call of God's mercy, for it is always that, may be heard at any time and in the most unexpected places, as witness the parable of the prodigal son, who was called to mercy in a pigsty. God is of an infinite adaptabilityl From the beginning of Genesis, We find God calling Adam and Eve back after their fall. Truly God's ways do not change, for His "I came to seek and to save that which is lost" is true from the beginning. So, t0b, God calls Cain after hig murder of Abel tO give him a spark of hope even in his punishment. Noah is called with all his family and is set apart by God for His service and his own salvation. But the first spectacular vocation in the Old Tegtament is that of Abraham. Leave thy country,, thy~kinsfolk And thy father's house, And come away into a land That I shall show thee. Here is the usual conception of a vocation, the leaving of all for God; and already there is the promise of what might be called a millionfoldl "I will bless thee and make thy name renowned., and in thee shall all the races of the world find a blessing." Abraham's might be ~alled a late vocation, for he was seventy-five years old when it came! His wife and his ,~ephew were called to accompany him, and God con- ~tantly encouraged him: "Have no fear. I am here. thy reward will be great ind~edl" St: Ambrose remarks that ,t is the privilege of the saints to receive a new name from God. God changed Abram's~:name to Abraham; and his wife's to one meaning "The Princess." She too was blessed, ,vho had been sterile, and bore Isaac~"the son of laugh-oero" + Pax is the nora de plume of a cloistered Benedictine nun whose monastery is located in Belgium. ~VOLUME 20, 1961 11~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 118 Vocations bring suffering, as Abraham discovered by the terrible test of his f.aith, when God bade him offer up Isaac in sacrifice. But God stayed that obedient hand at the last minute saying, "Abraham, Abraham, for my sake tfiou wast willing to give up thine only son." It is as if God is in ad~niration of this. sturdy faith of Abraham's, just as Jesus later was when faced with the dauntless faith of a woman, "Womfin, great is thy faith! . Thine only son," cries God; and in promising Abraham the reward of a countless posterity, through which all nations should be blessed, God is promising him no less than His own Son, who would save us all. We see the parallel with this situation in the words of St. John: "God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son." God's love for Abraham and Sarah did not prevent His care for their bondmaid, Agar. Sh6 too is called and consoled in the desert by the finding of water .for her dying child and the promise of a wonderful future for him. It is no wonder then, that Abraham died contented. He had spent a hun drdd years in the service of God, and God had blessed him in all his doings. "God," a slnall boy onc~e remarked, "has some very funn) friends.", Jacob is,perhaps one of these, for in spite of St A_ugustine's lenient "not a lie, but a mystery," he appear., as "a t3vister"; but God who be.holds the heart saw hi., capacity for tenacious fidelity.and love. All God's dealing., with him are mysterious. Perhaps-He saw in Jacob, whc had, to put it politely, borrowed his brother's name, birth right, and blessing, the figure, o~. us all, of all mankind who would shelter:behind the name of His first-born Son Jesus, and in that Name and disguise, steal His blessin~ and the right of inheriting the Kingdom of Heaven. Nora of us can, then, throw stones at Jacob! He was called by God, in his sleep, from a ladder reach ing from heaven to earth, the passageway of countl~'s. angels (a ladder which has greatly intrigued the saints ant the fathers of the Church) with a free promise, with n( conditions! "I am the Lord, the God of thy father Abra ham, the God of Isaac, and tl~is ground on which thor sleepest is my gift to thee and thy posterity. Thy race shal be as countless as the dust., thou shalt overflow th, frontiers, till all the families of the earth find a blessing i~ thee and this race of thine. I myself will watch over the~ ¯. all My promises shall be. fulfilled." What a wonderfifl vocation Moses, the great contempla rive, had! From babyhood God endowed him with sucl grace and charm that he es~]ap.ed~death when Pharoa! killed the baby boys.o~ Israel. He, was saved by the ruler' daughter, who hired his, own.mother to nurse him. Got watched over him till the day when in the desert He caller him from out the burning bush. God often calls contem platives in the desert, for as St. Ambrose says: "The food of heavenly grace is given, not to the idle, not in the city . nor to those accustomed to worldly things, but to those of the kingdom of God." It needs contemplative eyes to see a bush aflame with God and ac0ritemplative tieart' to hear God's calling from so lowly a setting. How beautiful a name becomes when God pronounces it! "M6ses, Moses!" called ~God. "Moses" means "a rescuer," a saviour. Every contemplative is a rescuer of souls. Moses at once entered into the deep mysteries of God. "Take off thy shoes, for thou standest on holy ground. I am the God thy father worshiped, the God of Abraham, of Isaac and of Jacob. Up! Thou art to lead My.people out of Egypt." Moses is reluctant to accept this errand. His hu-mility tries to escape, from such high honors. Contem-platives often are tempted to wonder if their vocation is not presumption. Other people seem so much holier and more fitted for God's great designs. Moses is, like most con-templatives, a strange mixture of. timidity and audacity. God truly has ~strange ways of choosing His tools, of picking His elect! "Who am I, and Who art Thou, O my God?" cry the saints. "I'm not at all the person Thou needest"; and in the same breath, as it he hadn't listened to God's introduction, "Who art Thou?" Blessed humility, and blessed audacity of Moses, since! they gave us the splendid name God, "I am the God who is." Besides this amazing condescension of God to Moses, God gives His chosen one the gift of miracles to help him in his mission. But Moses in his modesty persists in pro-testing his incapacity for his vocation. He pleads his love of silence, his lack of facile speech. Contemplatives are often painfully aware of how inarticulate they are, how ineloquent when talking of what surpasses speech. The ~aints are sometimes regarded as fools by reason of this tongue-tiedness of theirs. Moses' vocation is fairly typical of God's call to con-templatives. He often accords them, at the beginning, a ~oretaste of "what eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor ,ath it entered into the heart of man to conceive." He puts heart into them; perhaps otherwise they would lever have the courage for the long march through the .vilderness that will inevitably lie before them. God brushes away Moses' doubts and fears and gives tim a spokesman in Aaron, whom Fie calls to the priest- ,ood, to the preaching of His message and to obedience. 'Aaron will receive my commandments from thee, and re- ,eat them . " And despite the desert, they could scarcely loubt God's abiding presence with them on the way since -Ie made it clear in their darkest nights by the column of ÷ ÷ ÷ The Call o] God VOLUME 20, 1961 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS fire and the very cloud showed Him. there by day, to say nothing of His extraordinary care for them, so that neither shoes nor clothing woreout, and bread was sent them from Heaven. "Nothing lacks to those who love God." Most contemplatives can vouch for this amazing care of their heavenly Father at all times. An odd vocation is that of the soothsayer Balaam, whom God served in his own coin, so to speak, and led by con-tradictionsl He is like the sort of dirig6 who makes clear to his director along what lines he expects to be directed, in the way of his, own choosingl Balaam almost obliges God to let him have his own way, and God uses it to humble him mightily, by letting his donkey know His will for Balaam, and furthermore announce it, backed up by an angel! For this honor the poor ass paid dearly. One might note in passing that God seems by the witness of both Testaments to have a weakness for asses, human and otherwisel That is, if we dare use a human expression and talk of the "weakness" of God, as St. Augustine dare., do, of Him who is the Strength of the Strongl "Why hast thou thrice beaten thine ass?" asks Godk, angel. "I came to intercept thee, because this errand ot thine is headstrong and defies my will. If the ass had not turned aside. I should have taken thy life and spared hers." "I will go home again," decides Balaam. "No," say., God through His angel. "Go, but be sure thou utterest nc word, save what I bid thee." Magnificently, too, Balaam does that, to Balac's indignation; and despite his efforts a! bribery, Balaam blesses, instead of cursing, Israeli "Son, of Israel, countless as the dust, race of Jacob past al numbering, may death find me faithful as these, and be m) end like theirs." The grace of God suddenly floods him, as it has a way ot doing when we are obedient. "My errand is to bless," h( cries. Headstrong Balaam then humbly confesses tha "from being blindfold, he saw, heard the speech of Goc most high, had a vision of Him, and learned to see right.' This passage recalls that in the New Testament of th( blind man of Bethsaida, who was also" slow at learning t( see, who also had a vision of God, and at His touch learnec to see rightl Children are called, too, by God. Samuel was choser before he was conceived in his mother's womb. He was th~ fruit of the long suffering and many tears of his steril mother, blessed by Hell, the priest, to whom she declare( her vow of offering him to God "all his life long." Sh. brought him to the temple as soon as he was weaned and "evermore the boy, Samuel, rose higher in God' favour," One night, while he was "sleeping in the divin~ presence where God's ark was," he thought he heard Hel calling him and ran to him with charming obedience sa.) ing, "Here I am!" Heli sent him back to bed three times, then realized that God had called the little boy. He told him that if God called again, he must say, "Speak on, Lord, thy servant is listening." How lovely the account of Godls coming ag~iin in Holy Writ. "The Lord came to his side and stood there waiting." So often He does, and waits so long, so patiently before we Samuels recognize His voicel It was a fearful message for a little boy to have to deliver to Heli; but Heli, hearing it, made the admirable answer, "It is the Lord. let Him do His will." Saul and David both had kingly vocations; the first failed, as alas, vocations sometimes do. The second bore the hundredfold of fruitfulness. Both were rooted in humility, for neither seemed at all likely to become king. Saul scarcely expected to be called by God to royal honors and duties when he set out to hunt for his father's lost donkeys, any more than the little boy David expected to be king when he was shepherding his father's sheep. David kept his humility and so God exalted him; Saul lost his, and by disobedience fell from God's favour. Both fell, but David speedily confessed his sin. As St. Ambrose says: "He sinned as kings often do, but he did penance, he groaned, he wept, as kings are not wont to do. He con-fessed his fault, he sought for pardon., he wept over his misery, he fasted, he prayed, and publishing his grief abroad, he left a witness of his confession to all poster-ity,. To fall into sin comes from the weakness of nature. To confess the sin comes from virtue." '"l~he Lord loves obedience better than sacrifice," Saul was told. Disobedi-ence is revolting against God, and almost inevitably pre-pares the loss of a vocation. We have seen a few of the calls of God in the Old Testament; what shall we say of the vocations in the New Testament? St. John the Baptist links, as it were, the two Testaments; and the Church applies to his voca-tion the magnificent passage from .Jeremiah, whom God told: "I claimed thee for my own, before ever I fashioned thee in thy mother's womb. I set thee apart for myself." Each New Testament vocation is splendid in its simplic-ity. Jesus captivates hearts by a look, a word, a smile, or simply by His presence. St. Augustine has a delightful description of the beginning of St. Andrew's vocation. "They wished to see where He dwelt., to be instructed in His precepts. He showed them where He dwelt. They came and were with Him. What a blessed day they spentl What a blessed night. Who is there who can tell what they heard from the Lord? Let us, too, build in our heart and make a house, whither He may come and teach us, and talk with us." The Bible account itself relates best the story of all the The Call o] God VOLUME 20, 1'961 ~2! 4- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS splendid New Testament vocations; of our Blessed Lady, of St. Joseph, of.~St. Pe.ter, St. John and the rest of the disciples. How many others there are of which we would gladly learn more, like that of the little boy who gave his bread and fishes to feed 'the multitude, or of Jairus' twelve-year-old daughter, who heard Jesus' Talitha cumi, "Little maid, arise." Who could doubt that she followed, seeking Him as eagerly as the bride in the Canticle of Can-ticles? There are vocations of ad~nirable people like St. Luke, the doctor, of St. Paul, the fiery zealot; of businessmen like St. Matthew; of thieves like Dismas, who stole heaven; of sinners like St. Mary Magdalene or St. Photina, who at Jacob's well, drew forth such streams of living water from the Sacred Heart! And that of Zacheusl When he could see nothing, he climbed a sycamore and saw the Lord passing by. Now the sycamore is sometimes called "a foolish fig tree." Little Zacheus, then, climbed the sycamore and saw the Lord. Thus they who in humility choose the things that the world deems foolish have a keen insight into the wisdom of God Himself. The crowd prevents us from seeing the Lord because the tumult of worldly cares oppresses the human mind and keeps its gaze from the light of Truth. We climb a sycamore when we attend to the "foolishness" (as the world deems it) of God's commandments, refraining from recovering What, is taken from us, yielding our goods to robbers, never inflict-ing injury for injury and bearing all with patience. The Lord bids us "climb a sycamore" when He says, "If one strikes thee on the cheek, turn to him also the other." Through such wise folly, we may see the Lord, and in contemplation catch a glimpse of the wisdom of God. So says St. Gregory the Great. "No one," says St. Ambrose, "can easily see Jesus, if he stay on the ground! One must climb above one's former faults, and trample on one's vanity. So it was that Zacheus came to receive .|esns as a guest in his house. And rightly did he climb a tree." St: Bede says that Zacheus, to see the Lord, had to abandon earthly cares and climb the tree of the cross, embracing thus the."folly" of Christ. St. Maximus has an entertaining sort of spiritual ledger account of the hardheaded businessman Zacheus' conver-sion. "Za.cheus," he says, "opened the gate of heaven to the rich by showing them how to buy heaven through the very means that once kept them out of heaven--namely, their possessions! He bestowed a treasure on them which would enable them to be rich for all eternity; he truly made a good bargain by showing them how to dispense their riches to the poor and so be eternally rich." Zacheus heard and answered our Lord's call with jo'y, unlike the other rich man who went away sorrowful "because he had great possessions." What shall we say of all the other humble and anony-mous vocations of the New Testament, of a deaf and dumb man, of how many blind, and lame~ and dead? Like all these, if we are very little in our own eyes, we act as a magnd~ for the love-of God'and for the grace of His turning to look on us and to say, "Come and seel" Better: still, like Zacheus,: we m.ayhear Him say, "Today I must dine in thy house-." Besi~ of all, we may hear Jesus' promise, "If a man has any love for me, he will be true to my wor~.l; and then he?will win my Father's love, and we will both come to hin~, and make our continual abode with himl" ÷ + The Call o] God 123 SISTER MARY JANET, S.C.L. ¯ Proposal for Small Missions: Taped Conferences ÷ Sister Mary Janet, S.C.L. is stationed at Saint Mary College in Xavier, Kansas, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This is simply an idea. It concerns a possible spiritual service that the priest and the religious community in with a modern gadget might offer sisters living small, "spiritually impoverished" mission houses. The spiritual service is the conference; the modern gadget, the tape recorder; the "spiritually impoverished missions," those which receive little or no spiritual from a priest during the course of the year. The idea might be summed up as Taped Conferences on the Spiritual Life. There is no one way in which such an idea might realized. Sketched here are three possibilities. In one plan a religious community with a number smaller mission houses that do not enjoy the privilege regular conferences from a priest might secure the services. of a priest expressly to prepare a set of taped conferences for these houses. A distinct advantage of such a procedure would be that a priest could be selected who is well ac2 quainted with the particular community, its constitutionsl and customs, and its works. Furthermore, the community, could engage a man of proved abilities. Consider, for how a good retreat master could in this way follow up and amplify his original instruction, providing a spiritual focus and direction for souls over a con-siderable time span. How many conferences would he tape? This might vary according to the time the priest could give to such a proj-ect and to the number of conferences from one source community-might want. In general, six to eight confer-ences would seem ample, or perhaps enough for the re-, treat SUndays of the year. Probably--at first anyway-~' conferences in a series (where one is dependent on prem-ises set up in a preceding one) would seem less practical than autonomous conferences. Separate conferences would also simplify the distribution process. The subject of such conferences might well be deter-mined by a discussion between the priest and the religious superiors or even perhaps bysuggestions from ithe sisters themselves. The length ortiming 6f the tapes, too, might be suggested by superi6rs to fit into some. specific order of the day, as, for instance; a conference on the monthly day of recollection. Generally a half hour might be pro-posed as a relatively prudent length. For one thing, most Iape~ run one half hour; a longer donference would neces-i~ ate changing tapes--and there are distractions enough without mechanical onesl Too, we can only listen with maximum profit for so long. A half-hour is a safe average estimate. In this connection, it might be observed that the ;peaker can no longer rely ori gesture or facial expression ~r the command of his presence. He will need to compen- ;ate for these by careful use of illustration, examples, and ~enerally concrete, specific language. Once a set of conferences is taped, it could be dupli-zated to meet whatever demand there would be within the community. Note that five reproductions of a six-con-ference set of tapes wouldmake a conference on the,spirit-aal life available to thirty mission houses.After a tape had ;erved its purpose in one house, it could be sent on im-aaediately to another house, much in the manner we are !amiliar with in handling orented movies. Some initial planning in the form of a schedule for each tape would make distribution a minimum .chore. In communities which have a loan library, the tapes might well be added .o the materials these libraries make available to the sis- .er$. If the initial project proved valuable, the religious :ommunity could then enlist the aid of other priests and ~adually build up a considerable library of conferences or its sisters. A continuous program of new tapes--per-haps two or three sets a year--would seem ideal. A more ambitious project would originate with the )riests themselves. Here a diocese, an order, or a province )f an order of religious men might prepare and make ~vailable to sisters taped conferences on the spiritual life. Fhis, as I see it, would.be somewhat comparable to the ,ery real service religious orders of men are now perform-ng in publishing such magazines as the Sponsa Regis and he Review for Religious. This notion has fascinfiting possibilities. Think of the )riests in the cloister, older priests and those physically 11, priests,committed to work in seminaries and chancery ffices--for all of these, the tape is a possible pulpit. Tapes ould annihilate distance and a sister in New Mexico Ta~d Conterences VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Mary Janet, S.C,L. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS could listen to Dom Hubert yon Zeller. They could bring the greatest spiritual thinkers of our generation into the most humble convent and they could preserve those voices for the next generation, Perhaps more ambitious yet: some large central agency concerned with the welfare' of religious--such as the Con~ ference of Major_ Keligious Superiors of Women's Insti-tutes or the Sister. Formation Conference might under-take such a project on a large scale, establishing a library of tapes for circulation among member communities. A small membership fee for each house or a larger one for a commu_nity would, I believe, cover the expenses of the project. ~ ° ~" Of course, the three outlined plans are not mutually ex-clusive. Indeed, they might well supplement each other and so offer .the sister "an embarrassment of riches~' in helping her gr6w in the spiritual life. Objections there would be certainly~ and it would be unrealistic to bypass therefor to pretend they could all be obviated. Such a project, for instance, would make a new demand on.already overworked priests. A certain, amount of expense and organization and book work would be in-volved:. What of the: .process of obtaining 'ecclesiastical approval? Some 'people simply"do not like being "talked at" by a machine, Furthermore, just. what advantage would the tape have over the,book? There are ,no real 'anSwers to the problems of time and taste. But there are some answers to other questi.ons., Ec clesiastical permission could no doubt be worked 6ut in side already existing channels. And, although th~ book is probably superiOr to the tape, objectively, still theteache, who uses the record or the tape can tell you that ther~ are times when the spoken word is more powerful and moremeaningful than the written word. More positively, jus~ wh;it purpose would such a projecl serve? A number of uses come to mind: for novitiates;' fo, sisters under temporary vows, :for ,sister,formation groups for the bedridden and .those, such as surgery supervisors who are unable to be :at community exercises, for prepa ration in renewing vows. But the most general use is on~ that can perhaps be illustrated by what is not, I think, ar undomm6n., experience among religious women in thi country today. It is principally why I think of this as ~ proposal for small missions. .'., ' A sister is missioned in, a parochial school in a fair-sizec town for nine or ten months out of every year. Here, ex cept for the Sunday sermon' in the parish church and th~ occasional and very generalized exhortation of her con lessor, the sister receives no formal spiritual instruction Her community may try valiantly to supplement this die during, vacation periods by institutes, tertianship pro grams, and so on. And fortunately for the sister, the Church demands the annual retreat. For very many sisters this is the only spiritual oasis in the year. Making good, solid spiritual conferences available to such a sister would be, I submit, 'a major act of super-natural charity. Too, it would "lengthen the arm" of the priest--or better, extend his voice~ which is, after all, the voice of Christ. + ÷ + Taped Conleren~es VOLUME 20, ,.1761 127 R. F. SMITH, S.J. Survey of Roman Documents ÷ ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 128 The documents which appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during October and November, 1960 will be surveyed in the following article. Unless otherwise speci-fied, all page references throughout the article will be to the 1960 AAS (v. 52). Allocutions and Messages On August 24, 1960 (AAS, 817-19), the Holy Father addressed the athletes gathered in Rome for the Olympic Games. He told the group that the purpose of athletics is not the winning of prizes but the proper development of the human body. However, he added, athletics not only affect the body by producing health, vigor, agility, grace-fulness, and beauty; but they also produce constancy, courage, and habits of self-denial in the soul. Hence he urged the athletes to fulfil in themselves the old saying, "A sound mind in a sound body." He concluded his al-locution by calling upon the group to observe the city of Rome closely and to see the role that Rome has played in the spread of the salvation and the charity that stem from the Gospel. Five days later, August 29, 1960 (AAS, 819-29), the Pope spoke to the officials and administrators of the Olympic Games. With this group he stressed his intense interest in world peace on the basis of the brotherhood that exists among all men. He also recalled to his listeners the rues sage of St. Paul that they should strive for a prize that higher and more durable than any earthly prize (1 Col 9:25). On August 28, 1960 (AAS, 829--30), the Vicar of Chris~ sent a radio message to the people of Peru on the occasior of their National Eucharistic-Congress. He pointed ou to them that the unity and brotherhood of men find thei~ origin in the fatherhood of God and are nourished at th~ Eucharistic table where Christ is received who died the salvation of all men and who is the principle of supernatural life for the entire human race. On September 16, 1960 (AAS, 821-24), the Holy Father delivered an allocution to the Fifth Thomistic World Congress. In the remarks that he made to th~ Congress, Pope John emphasized that the moral teaching of St, Thomas is always directed to the attainment of a super-natUral final end. He also said that the explanation and solution of moral problems according to the principles of St. Thomas will lead to remarkable results in. the way of peace for the Church and for the entire world. Hence, h'e continued, if his listeners succeed in presuading both man-agement and labor to know their respective rights and responsibilities, they will at the same time be leading them to follow Christ who is mankind's protector in this Hfe and its reward exceeding great in eternity. This, he said, will require a diligent study of the works of ~St. Thomas; and he called for a constant increase in the numbers of those who derive their light and learning from the works of the Angelic Doctor, This increase, he noted, should not only exist among priests and scholars, but also among all those interested in the humanities and especially among the young members of Catholic Action. To this end the Pope also urged the wider distribution of St. Thomas' writings in vernacular translations. On September 24, 1960 (AAS, 824-27), Pope John XXlII talked to a group of heart specialists in the hope, as he put it, of giving them a knowledge of the dignity of their profession in the light of Christian revelation. The Bible, he said, stresses the preeminent place the heart has in the human person. It is the heart from which come forth holy thoughts, wisdom, and virtue; it is the heart which leads man to rectitude, simplicity, and humility; it is with our whole heart that we are commanded to love God; and when the Son of God came to live among men, it was His Heart that he proposed to men as an example: "Learn of me, for I am meek and humble of heart" (Mr 11:29). Hence, he told his listeners, while a superficial view might think that a heart specialist is dealing only with a problem in human anatomy, in the eyes of faith and in reality he is concerned with a whole world of moral and religious values. Moreover, faith will show the doctor the beauty of his efforts as a scientist in quest for truth; at the same time the same faith will teach him how humble he must be in the face of the limitless immensity of God, Finally, faith will show the scientist the image of God in his fellow men and thereby transform all his relations with them. This effect of faith, the Holy Father added, is especially apparent in a profession like the medical one which is entirely devoted to suffering human beings. Hence in their work the doctors should recall frequently that what + + ÷ Survey ot Roman Documents VOLUME 20, 1961 ÷ ÷ R. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 130 they do for their patients they do for that Christ who will one day say to them: "I was sick, and you vi.sit,ed me" .(Mt 25!36). On October 1, 1960 (AAS, 827-28), the Pope received the King and Queen of Thailand and delivered to them an allocution of welcome and good wishes. A similar allo-cution was given by the Pontiff when he received the Prince and Princess of Liechtenstein on October 8, 1960 (AAS 828-29). On October 20, 1960 (AAS, 893-95), the Vicar of' Christ visited the new building of the Beda in Rome and spoke to the English seminarians in residence there. Since the Beda's new building is near the Basilica of St. Paul he urged his listeners to recall frequently the woi'ds of St. Paul: "By the grace of God, I am what I am, and his grace in me has n0t been fruitless" (1 Cor 15:10). He went on to say that vocations are a tangible sign of the presence of God in the world; when God calls, a young man gives up family traditions, ambition, and earthly advantages and seeks only the glory of God, the sanctification of His name, the coming of His Kingdom, and the fulfilment of His will. He concluded his address by telling his listeners that each nation has its own treasure of traditions and of native virtue that can and must be transfigured into a precious instrument of the apostolate. Hence he urged them to take the well known English traits of humanity, gentlemanliness, and reflectiveness and transform them in the priestly activity they are called to engage in. On the same day the Pope also visited the new building that had just been completed to serve as a generalate and international house of studies for the Trappists. In the allocution that he gave for the occasion, the Holy Father t61d his listeners that the contemplative life constitutes one Of the fundamental structures of the Church; it has, he said, always been present in the two-thousand year history of the Church, constantly fruitful in virtue and con-stantly exercising a mysterious and powerful attraction for the loftiest and noblest souls. In praise of their vo-cation, Pope John cited to the Trappists the words of Plus XI (AAS, 26 [1934], 106) at the canonization of the Carmelite St. Teresa Margaret Redi: "It is these very pure and very lofty souls who by their suffering, their love, and their prayer silently exercise in the Church the most universal and most fruitful apostolate." He concluded his allocution by asking for the prayers of his listeners and of all the contemplatives of the world for the success of the coming ecumenical council. On October 25, 1960 (AAS, 898-903), the Holy Father spoke to the judges; officials, and lawyers of the Sacred Roman Rota. He told them that the dangers that weaken the institution of the family are accentuated at the present time, and he called the attention of all men of good will to the serious problem of the sanctity of marriage. In the first part of the allocution the Pope emphasized the need today for the instructi6n of the faithful r~egarding the dignity and the obligations of conjugal life. Marriage, he told them, is not only a natural reality; it is also a sacrament, a sign of grace and of that sacred reality, the espousal of Ch

Transcript of an oral history interview with Robert William Christie, conducted by Jennifer Payne on 21 November 2013, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Dr. Robert W. Christie matriculated at Norwich University in 1940, the youngest member of his class. Although he is an alumnus of the class of 1944, he did not graduate until 1947 due to service in World War II. Dr. Christie received his M. D. from SUNY College of Medicine in 1951. He practiced medicine in Northfield, Vermont, 1952-1954, then specialized in pathology and practiced as a pathologist at seven hospitals in northern New Hampshire and Vermont. He discusses his experiences in the military as well as at Norwich University and as a physician in his interview. ; 1 Robert W. Christie, NU '44, Oral History Interview November 21, 2013 At the Kendal at Hanover Continuing Care Retirement Community 80 Lyme Rd, Hanover, NH 03755 Interviewed by Jennifer Payne JENNIFER PAYNE: This is Jennifer Payne with the Norwich Voices Oral History Project. Today's date is November 21st, 2013, and I am with Robert W. Christie—class of '44—and we are at Kendal at Hanover Continuing Care Community at 80 Lyme Rd. in Hanover, New Hampshire. Thank you, Dr. Christie for agreeing to be with us today and to do an oral history. ROBERT W. CHRISTIE: Thank you Jennifer. It's a pleasure and, I believe, a privilege to be able to do this. I've called a few things that I've written to augment this oral history, and I'll start off with the Independence Day celebration address that I delivered at the Dartmouth College Green in Hanover, New Hampshire on July 4th, 2012. JP: Thank you. RC: "I believe I was asked to speak here today because I am one of the contributors to—as well as one of the editors of—Kendal at Hanover's recent book of memoirs, "World War II Remembered". My comments will be about some local history, some personal history, some family history, and a few beliefs that I hope you may find to be of interest, and perhaps even instructive. I will conclude by offering you a challenge. (break in audio) JP: -- now. OK. RC: I will conclude by offering you a challenge. First, the local history. My alma mater is Norwich University, the country's oldest private military college, which was founded in 1819 right across the Connecticut River in Norwich, Vermont. Its initial enrollment, as I recall, was 17 male cadets. Captain Alden Partridge, its founder, attended Dartmouth and later became superintendent of the US military academy at West Point. Partridge, an American education visionary, believed that Norwich University's graduates should be trained to lead in times of 2 peace, as well as in times of war. The concept of land-grant colleges, and ultimately the nation's reserve officers' training program—ROTC—were founded at Norwich University. The first land-grant college bill was introduced by Representative Justin Smith Morrill of Vermont in 1857—using Norwich University as a model and prototype—and was enacted into law in 1862. The mission of these institutions, which include Cornell University and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, as set forth in the 1862, was to focus on the teaching of practical agriculture, science, military science, and engineering—without excluding classical studies. I might add here that, during the Civil War, many of the Confederate Army officers were West Pointers—were West Point graduates, who had defected to the Confederacy, and many others were from the numerous state-supported military schools and colleges scattered throughout the South at that time. The Citadel and VMI are two examples. The only source of professionally trained officers in the Union army in the Civil War were graduates of West Point and Norwich University. Norwich University now resides in Northfield, Vermont, following a disastrous fire in 1866. An apocryphal tale has it that the university's old south barracks burned to the ground as an act of arson by Dartmouth College students who were intensely jealous of the attention Norwich's men in uniform were getting from the local young ladies. Since 1972, Norwich has been --" (break in audio) RC: "--teen-seventy-two Norwich has been co-ed—the first military college to become so. It now has an enrollment of over 2,000, including both cadets and civilian students. Last year, as I recall, the highest ranking cadet regimental officer, and one or two of the battalion commanders, were women." (break in audio) RC: I think I was a trustee during that time at Norwich, and I might have been involved in the discussions about integrating women into the Norwich family. So -- JP: That would be fascinating.3 RC: OK. Go back to. JP: Sure. Yeah. RC: "Next, some personal history. I spent eight years in the military. Three in horse cavalry ROTC at Norwich, and as an enlisted man and commissioned officer in the US Army. Horse cavalry had become obsolete, and I ended up in armor—tanks. My military occupational specialty—MOS—was tank unit commander. My military experience overseas in World War II was in the ETO—the European Theatre of Operations. I joined the 33rd Armored Regiment of the Third Armored Division. At the beginning, the Ardennes offensive—the so-called "Battle of the Bulge". The Third Armored Division was the spearhead of the First Army. My combat service was as its tank platoon leader, and eventually the company commander in a medium tank battalion. My promotion to company commander had much to do with fate, luck, and the attrition—300%—in men and equipment that the Third Armored Division experienced. From its going ashore in Normandy, until the end of the war. I moved up in command as my company's more senior officers were killed, wounded, or rotated. (break in audio) RC: "and a result of the attrition—300%—in men and equipment, that the Third Armored Division experienced. From its going ashore in Normandy, until the end of the war. I moved up in command as my company's more senior officers were killed or wounded. When the war ended at the Elbe River in Germany, we met the Russians, who had just arrived at the other side of that river. My survival and presence here today has a lot to do with my following one of Murphy's rules of combat: 'Never follow anyone braver than yourself.' Unless, of course, my company's orders from the battalion headquarters were taking that next objective, move out. I never felt brave or heroic. I just followed orders and trusted that I would somehow survive. It never really occurred to me emotionally that I would be killed. Now, some family history. On my mother's side of the family, my great-great-great-Grandfather, Johnathon Hildrith was a captain in the militia raised in Chesterfield, New Hampshire, and fought in the Revolutionary War's Battle of 4 Bennington in 1777 [sic]. I guess that makes me a son of the American Revolution—comparable to the Daughters of the American Revolution, whose name is much more familiar than the sons'. My great-Grandfather, on my father's side, George H. Weeks, was a sergeant promoted to first lieutenant in the Union army in the Civil War. American Civil War records show that as a member of the New York 115th infantry regiment, over his three years of service, he fought in 57 battles and scrimmages in Maryland, at Harpers Ferry, and Fredericksburg, Virginia—as well as in Florida, North Carolina, and Maryland. My father, George R. Christie, who's trained as a pilot and commissioned as a second lieutenant in the army's fledgling Air Corps in 1917—18. His memoir, "Wooden Props and Canvas Wings" tells, with humor and candor, what that experience and learning to fly was like in World War I. My younger brother, George R. Christie, Jr., enlisted in the army and was a parachute infantryman, AKA paratrooper. But fortunately, he did not have to serve in combat because Japan surrendered and World War II ended. He did, however, have to jump out of moving airplanes while in the air. And here are some of my beliefs. Perhaps my family history has led you to think that I am a hardcore, super patriotic, militarist by family tradition. Far from it. I found out firsthand what war was like, and I would like to see it disappear from the face of the Earth. But I fear it will not. I suspect war is built into the genome of the third chimpanzee. That's us, as Jared Diamond has characterized Homo sapiens in his book of that title, "The Third Chimpanzee". Anthropologist Jane Goodall describes troops of lower world-order chimpanzees systematically annihilating other troops whose territory they've coveted. Will and Ariel Durant, authors of the 11-volume, "The Story of Civilization" followed it in 1968 with a concise summary book, "The Lessons of History". I reread that 117-page book every New Year's Day. The Durants' chapter on war is not encouraging. Here is a quote: 'In the 3,421 years of recorded history, only 268 have seen no war.' Now, in 2012, you can add on another 44 years, and make that 268 out of 3,465 years. 5 Here are eight things that I believe to be true. War and religion are the two great constants in civilization's history. In our time, overpopulation of the Earth is a fundamental cause of most of the world's problems, especially war. Human ignorance, greed, religious conflicts, and weapons of mass destruction come next. In that order. If a country does not adapt, and prepare for war imaginatively and continually, others who have so prepared, will overcome it. The British were slow to find that out during our Revolutionary War when the colonials used the ungentlemanly tactics of guerrilla warfare over a period of seven years, to force the British to surrender. Number four, terrorists and drones are now the guerrilla equivalence of 21st century warfare. Number five, in warfare, science prevails. Prayer vigils and marches for peace, unfortunately, have not been shown to be effective. The world's acknowledgement of the overwhelming military and economic power of the United States is what has prevented, so far, another world conflict. Number six, American democracy—based, perhaps, on its Anglo-Saxon beginnings in English with the Magna Carta—shines as a beacon of hope to the rest of the world. Number seven, democracy cannot be exported. It has to arise from within a people, as did ours here in the United States. And number eight, our democracy along with liberty, must not be taken for granted. It must be nurtured, defended, and—when necessary—fought for when others threaten. So I am an unapologetic patriot, staunch believer in liberty, our constitution, and our way of government—with all its flaws. Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis stated, 'Our country's founders believed liberty to be the secret of happiness, and courage to be the secret of liberty.' So here's my challenge to you. On this day of celebration of our independence, for which so many Americans before us have given their lives—I challenge each of you to carry in your heart that secret of happiness. The flame of liberty. And to accept the responsibility and courage to preserve and hold high the torch that carries that flame. May God bless each of you. May God bless our independence. May God continue to bless America." So that's the end of that. RC: I almost flunked out of OCS because my voice projection was inadequate in the eyes—or ears—of "Natty Bumppo" who was the "Tac Officer" for our class at OCS at Fort Knox. And he told 6 me he was going to wash me out if I didn't improve, and he gave me a week to improve my voice as I spoke—that I would use in commanding troops. So I did. Very carefully, I went out behind the barracks and talked loudly and focused and so on. And so, a week later, he had me take charge of the company—the OCS company that I was in—and had me lead them on the parade ground by giving voice commands of which way to turn, where to stop, so on. Incidentally, as a footnote, my father almost flunked out of flight school at Cornell—pre-flight school—because—for the same reason—he was not giving commands loudly enough! And as a result, he had to, once again, command his troops on the parade ground. And during that exercise, he managed to march them into the side of the barracks. Which again, almost flunked him out of OCS. But my father was survivor, and he survived that, too, and went on and graduated from the pre-flight training, and went on to learn to fly in Arkansas. JP: Oh, my. So, where were you born? RC: I was born in Mineola, New York. My father said that the hospital in Mineola was in Nassau County on Long Island, and my mother was supposed to have a delivery date—which had passed by—and so, they got out in the car and drove around in the hopes that driving around would stimulate labor. And they were going through Mineola, and she started to have labor pains, so they drove right up to the hospital, and there she stayed until she underwent the delivery. So that's why I was born in Mineola, New York. But both my parents were New York City folk for generations. And I actually lived in New York from time to time, and—but most of my boyhood, and going up to public high school, was in Freeport, New York—which is also on Long Island. But the—when people ask me where I'm from, I always tell them I'm a New Yorker because I really feel I have that accent—and I just feel like that was where I came from. OK? JP: Yes. That's great. Why did you—how did you decide on Norwich? RC: Well, that's an interesting question. Actually I didn't decide. My father decided. My father was an employee of the Standard Oil Company of New York all his life. And he moved up in the ranks—so to speak—and it was the—talking to some of the—of his colleagues in the fuel oil 7 division. And he said, you know my son is thinking about going to college. Do you guys—you're all college graduates—do you have any suggestions to give me? Because I never graduated from college and my wife never graduated from college. And so, we don't know where to start. So, one of the guys during this conversation happened to be a Norwich trustee. And he said, George, I know just where your son should go. And he said, Norwich University. It's a beautiful location up in Vermont. It's a wonderful school. I'm a graduate myself, and he should go there. And my father said, well you know, I've been thinking about seeing whether I could get Bob into West Point, but I don't have any political connections—and he just went to a public high school, and wasn't a particularly outstanding student, so I don't think that will ever happen. And this other fellow—whose name was [Fred Coburn?] [00:21:46] a Norwich trustee—said, well you'll get the same kind of training at Norwich that you would have gotten at West Point. And he said, you know, I think that we can agree there's a war coming. This was back in 1940. And you've been in the army, you know that officers are treated better than enlisted men in the service, and when he finishes his experience at Norwich, he'll be commissioned a second lieutenant from the ROTC. So my father came home and told me the story, and said, that's where I think you ought to go. I was a good boy. I always followed what my mother and father told me to do. So I said, OK, Dad. And he said, I'll write the checks and we'll go up there when we find out whether you've been accepted or not. And sure enough, I was accepted readily. Because getting into Norwich was not a problem in those days—there were very few applicants, as it turned out—and they, Norwich, was really very happy to have anybody show up who wanted to go to Norwich. So I never set foot on the Norwich campus until the day my mother and father drove me up to Northfield, Vermont. And neither of them had ever been in Vermont themselves. They dropped me off at the parade ground. I gave them a big hug, and they drove off, and I never saw them again on that particular location until my graduation seven years later in 1947. After the war. So, that was my introduction to Norwich University. JP: And your major was a chemistry—you were a chemistry major --8 RC: Well, yeah. That's another story. I said, "Pop, you know, I don't know anything about college. How do you know what kind of courses to take?" And he said, "Well, you know, son, the chemists in this company do exceptionally well. And he said that they're well paid and they have interesting job. Why don't you take courses in chemistry?" That's how I became a chem major. I wasn't an outstanding high school chemistry student, but my father told me it was a good idea. So, being a good boy. And incidentally, I was the youngest man—next to the youngest man in my class of 1944, when I matriculated. Gerry Collins was the only one who was a few weeks younger than I was, and we were both 16-years old. JP: You were 16. You graduated from high school and were at Norwich at 16? RC: Well, and that's another story in itself because my whole career at Norwich—in those first three years before I went into the service—I was just not of the same mindset of the rest of my classmates. They were one year older, one year more experienced, been out with more girls, done more things, and so on. And I just felt—and I really actually was—kind of a misfit. And I always was a—you know—I wasn't a momma's boy, or a daddy's boy, but I always was a—I followed what my family told me to do. And that wasn't what most of my classmates experienced, I bet. And so—and that feeling dogged me through the first three years of college, and I did not terribly enjoy Norwich as a cadet—for that reason. I didn't realize it at the time, but when I got back, and put in my final year—after having been in the army, been through the war, and all of my classmates at that time—I caught up with them. Let me leave it at that. I felt very comfortable my senior year, when I was at Norwich. The first three years, they were not good years for me. JP: Oh. Did you join a fraternity? RC: Because I was a social misfit, I was never invited to enjoy the privilege of being tapped for a fraternity. It was only when I came back to Norwich, as a veteran, that—over at Theta Chi—which started at Norwich University – they invited me to come and join the fraternity. A lot of my friends were there, so I did. So that's my fraternity history.9 JP: But you were—you were editor of the "Guidon"? RC: Well, I would have been—in my senior year—I had worked up from the reporter, to assistant managing editor, to managing editor, and I was actually putting down—putting the newspaper together—the "Guidon"—and I used to go down to John Mazuzan's office. He was a Norwich graduate, and he published the "Northfield News"—the Northfield newspaper—and I used to set type down in his printshop for the headlines of the next issue of the "Guidon". So that's really—I think—where I got hooked on writing, publishing, editing—which exist through—have existed through my lifetime. JP: You've written five books, at least? RC: Yeah. JP: Yeah. So, I was going to ask what you did to relax. But you didn't—didn't really -- RC: Well, that's another story. At Norwich, in those days, you didn't relax. I mean, if you were an engineer major—civil, electrical, whatever, mechanical—or you were a chem major—you had lab every afternoon, except those afternoons when you were on the parade ground, or down at the riding hall. And there was no free time. And you went to bed at taps, you got up at reveille, and you didn't relax. It was go, go, go. But, you know, for a kid my age—a teenager—that was life. And this is what you did when you went to a military college. I didn't know any different. JP: My gosh. What was your least favorite class at Norwich? RC: Well, if you were a chem major, you had to take scientific German. Not something you learn to speak, but you had to read—learn to read German. The reason being—purported reason—was that so much of the chemical—chemistry literature at that time, was written in German. Because all of the chemistry research was going on in Germany in the early 19—late 19th—early 20th—and throughout the 20th century. So if you wanted to be a chemist, and you wanted to be able to read the chem literature, you needed to be able to read German. And I didn't enjoy that at all. And also, I must say, that it wasn't all bad. Because, having been in Germany afterward—and having some familiarity with the language—and not having learned it to speak, or really 10 understand it as it's spoken, but to only to read and to write—it was helpful to me, because I ended up as a—in the Constabulary—which, incidentally, General Harmon was the commanding general of—after the war—the Third Armored Division became morphed into the Constabulary—which was essentially a state police organization—and we were training new recruits coming overseas to be, essentially, state police officers—rather than people going out killing people, which is what we were originally trained to do, and what we actually did during the war. So I got to know German well enough. It was called Schlafzimmer Deutsch—Bedroom Deutsch. I think you get the connection. And so you get to use a lot of the language necessary to get along. And my job, as a troop commander in the Constabulary in the city of Ulm was to run the city through the Bürgermeister, the mayor. And so the Bürgermeister used to come to me every morning to get his orders of what the Constabulary wanted him to be doing or not doing. And so, you know, I had to carry on a conversation with him, and he spoke some English and I spoke some Deutsch, and we were able to communicate. So this course that I took at Norwich was not completely lost. JP: You may not have enjoyed it at the time, but -- RC: No. JP: Was there -- RC: But that's true of so many things in life, you know? You just never know how things are going to be useful, not useful—you regret them, you enjoy them later on—never realizing how important they might be in your life. Incidentally, I notice that I'm dropping my voice at the end of—do I don't know whether that's not coming through well. JP: You're still—when you talk, it goes up to the orange, so—mine isn't—let's see—upped it a little bit. I'll keep an eye on it, but you're looking—looking good. RC: You mean, I'm hearing good.11 JP: Yes. Yeah. Well, I look at this, and as long as you go in—up to the orange—you're fine. We don't want you in the red a lot, because then it could clip—although I've never had that happen—but so far, so good. Was there a favorite instructor at Norwich who you had? RC: Well, I had two—three. Perley Baker1 who was a professor of chemistry. Shorty Hamilton2 who was next in command. They had both been in the—in World War I, and they had been in the chemical warfare departments. And I liked them both. Absolutely different personality. Perley Baker stood up straight, was well-dressed, uniform, trousers creased, so on. Shorty Hamilton was a bit of a slob, if I may say so—very relaxed—very laid back, Vermont-type personality. And we all were respectful of Perley Baker, but we all enjoyed the presence of Shorty Hamilton. I'll put it that way. And if you had a problem, you'd enjoy talking to Shorty rather than Perley. That does not mean that we didn't think a lot of Perley. The third guy—I've forgotten his first name—his last name was Taylor.3 He was a civilian. He was very uncomfortable in uniform. I think he was at Norwich as an instructor in English because somehow he thought he might not have to go into the real service if he was a professor at Norwich. Anyhow, it didn't turn out that way because Norwich closed, and I don't know where he went. Never—but he taught English. And I loved that course. That's where, incidentally, the term "Natty Bumppo" came from because some of the readings that I did were Nathaniel Hawthorne.4 And it may not have been American history that he taught. It might have been teaching American literature—I think that was it—and we did a lot of reading of American literature. And I really enjoyed that. And I realized—I've realized, latterly in my life, that I should have been an English major, not a chem major. But, you know, I was on the Dean's List all the time, so it wasn't completely lost. JP: For the audience, can you explain who Natty Bumppo is? For those not familiar. 1 Perley Dustin Baker, Professor of Chemistry 2 Harold Chapman Hamilton, Professor of Chemistry 3 Ralph Carlyle Taylor, Assistant Professor of English 4 Natty Bumpo is the protagonist of James Fenimore Cooper's Leatherstocking Tales.12 RC: Natty Bumppo was a comical character in Nathaniel Hawthorne. I've forgotten all the details, but if we can break right now -- (break in audio) JP: And we're back with Dr. Christie. So, let me ask you. Do you remember any funny stories about life or people at Norwich? RC: Well, after so many years, it's hard to recall. But one funny story that I actually described in a publication here at Kendal, was a small essay called "Life's Darkest Moment" or "The Day I Goosed Shorty Hamilton". So I'm going to read this little essay. "It was one of those Tuesday or Thursday afternoons when all those of my classmates majoring in liberal arts were either back in their barracks doing Chinese infantry drill, i.e., sacked out, or walking towards around the upper parade of Norwich University to work off excess demerits, or sweating on an athletic field for some jock team. The sophomore chemistry majors—guys like myself—were doing the lab exercise requisite to quantitative—or maybe it was qualitative—analysis, down in the dingy basement labs of Dodge Hall. Major Shorty Hamilton—his real first name, I believe, is Harold, but I'm not sure. Major Shorty Hamilton and Lieutenant Perley Baker were the two professors staffing the chemistry department. Both had graduated from Norwich, and both had served in the US Army. Each was rather austere. Perley always looked spit-and-polish military, with his neatly trimmed mustache, the bright silver leaves on one side of his cocky blouse's lapel, and cross-flasks of the army's chemical warfare department on the other. And a Sam Brown belt tightly buckled over his upper torso. I always felt that he was the very essence of a Norwich faculty member. "Shorty" was what cadets called Major Hamilton when he wasn't within earshot. My recollection is that his first name was Harold, but the years have dulled my memory. Shorty was a bit more—no, a lot more—casual in his appearance than Lieutenant Colonel Baker. His was the appearance of a college professor who dressed as casually in his military uniform as regulations would permit. His uniform did not seem to have been tailored for him, but rather for Ichabod Crane. And although he was clean-shaven, he always looked a bit scruffy. Shorty was at 13 least six-foot six, and perhaps even taller. The only other person on the entire hill who was equally tall was my across-the-hall chemistry major classmate in my barracks, Jim Lombard. 5 [00:40:45] Jim always looked a day late and a dollar short, and a dead ringer for Shorty when viewed from behind. Well, the lab on this particular afternoon wore on, and there were those frequent intervals when certain laboratory maneuvers—such as filtering in a solution—consumed time that could not be usefully employed on much else except poring over the lab manual to make sure you had it right, checking your neighbors' experiments for reassurance that you were not doing the wrong one, or even light horsing around to make time pass until a liquid in the funnel made its leisurely way through the Whatman filter and into the flask below. It was this last interval of waiting that lead to my downfall. (break in audio) RC: Since there were only uncomfortably high stools on which to perch while working at the bench, we often stood up and leaned on our elbows with our heads down over the manuals, trying to appear busy studying. To protect our uniforms from misdirected reagents, we wore long wrap-around aprons, and thus, one man's back looked very much like another's. In one of the intervals of waiting for things to happen chemically, I noticed Jim's derrière sticking far out, as it always did when he bent over the bench across the aisle from my own—a consequence of his long torso. The opportunity was more than an 18-year old could resist at the moment. I had hardly swung an extended thumb at the end of my looping right arm at the inviting target. I connected this maneuver with a resounding thump that almost lifted Jim off the floor. Or at least I had thought it was Jim. Of course, it wasn't. It was Major Hamilton. No cadet could ever have been more embarrassed than I was at that suspended moment. Although greatly surprised by this assault from behind, Shorty slowly drew himself up to his full height, and looked around to see the perpetrator of this bold and unseemly attack. His eyes centered on me through his steel-rimmed glasses, since I was the obvious culprit. I stammered, 'I'm sorry, sir. I mistook you for someone 5 James E. Lombard14 else.' I didn't know what else to do, pass gas or wind my watch. The then current colloquial military aphorism appropriate for such extreme circumstances of mortification. The professor said not a word, but rather turned around and assumed his former position leaning over the bench top next to him. Of course, I expected to suffer some terrible fate as a result of this misadventure, but none occurred. No demerits, no report to the commandant of cadets, no invitation to discuss the matter further in the privacy of Shorty's office. Nothing at all happened. But in a bleak, and laconic reference to the events came eleven years later. I was practicing general medicine in Northfield, Vermont where Norwich University is situated. Shorty, now retired from the faculty, came into my office as a new patient. Not having seen each other since my college days, we greeted one another warmly, and made some small talk as I addressed his relatively simple medical problem, which was easily solved. As was the custom in civility in those days, Shorty thanked me for my ministration, but then, on his way out—and halfway through the door—he turned, and with a broad smile, said wryly, 'You know doctor, when I heard that you had become a physician, I thought that you would have specialized in proctology.'" JP: That's a good story. RC: Well, it's kind of unique to Norwich. JP: It certainly is. And well told—well told. Gosh. How did your training prepare you for your work life? RC: Well, I can't really say that my training at Norwich prepared me for what I ultimately did with my life. And my life experiences have been so varied, and I've done so many different things at so many times, for so many different reasons, it's hard to say that I was really prepared through anything that I learned at Norwich. Except a certain attitude about—I would say—responsibility and leadership. JP: What about both of those? What is it about responsibility? RC: Well, Norwich—as you know—attempts to train people as leaders. And one of the things that you learn as a leader, is that you're responsible for the people that are under your command. And 15 since I was a corporal—promoted to corporal my sophomore year, I had a squad of cadets that I was responsible for. And learned that—also when I was down in the barn—the stables of course, is what they were called—my first responsibility was to my horse, before myself. The horse got watered, the horse got fed, the horse got groomed, before I took care of my own needs. So, I think those little things probably inculcated into my personality the importance of responsibility. JP: So you are the class agent for your class and—do you—you stay in touch with some of your classmates? RC: Well, I've stayed in touch with as many of my classmates as I was able to. The class agent before me was a fellow named Al Lockard6—good friend, a Theta Chi—and he, unfortunately, died suddenly after having both of his hips replaced. And while he was working out in post-op therapy, had a pulmonary embolism and died. And the irony is that before his operations, he and I had either spoken or corresponded. And I said, you know, Al, I would never have two major operations like that done at the same time because complications of being on an operating table for that protracted period is an additional hazard. He said, yeah, I know, but the physical therapy afterward—I don't want to go through that twice. So that's why I'm having both done. I said, OK, boy. And that was it. And sure enough, he had what I had predicted, unfortunately—a sudden, severe complications. So I took over from him as class agent. And that was many years ago. JP: You have correspondence in the archives between you and Perry Swirsky. How many years did you guys correspond? RC: Well, that's an interesting question. Perry and I were roommates during my junior year. Perry and I had entirely different personalities. He was a Jew. He had entirely different life experiences from my own—had grown up in Springfield, Massachusetts. His father was a banker. He owned and operated a chain of furniture stores, and he was very well-off. And I didn't have any contact with him at all after OCS because at OCS—when we graduated, we 6 Alan T Lockard16 spread to the winds. He went to Sicily and Italy as a tank unit commander. I went to France, Belgium, and Germany as a tank unit commander. And so, we just lost contact with each other. And he hated Norwich. I mean, I didn't have a terribly great experience my first three years, but he hated them. First of all, he was one of only two Jews in my class. And he never really integrated with the class, and as a result, he felt like a loner and an outsider. And I, in my own way, also had those same feelings—for reasons I've already explained. I was too young, and hadn't had enough of the experiences my classmates had had, and I always felt as—to be—in a way, a loner—and out of sync. So anyhow, that might have had something to do with the reason that we linked up as roommates during our junior year. Perry—if I may diverge—was a very interesting guy. Somewhere I have recorded—or recounted—the fact that there were two members of my class that I know were awarded silver stars during World War II. Perry was one of them, and another one whose name will occur to me in a moment—I'm having a senior moment—also was awarded a silver star at Bastogne during the Bulge in Belgium. Anyhow, back to Perry. Perry was a platoon leader in a brigade that was assigned to an Italian tank division. And the relationship between the American units and the Italian units was—according to Swirsky—pretty ad hoc. So he was commanded one day to take his platoon and to take the hill that this Italian major pointed out to him. And he said, when you get up there, hold your ground and don't leave for any reason. And we'll be up to relieve you. So Perry did just that. And on his way up, he was literally killing Italians and Germans who were on that hill. And then, because he couldn't stand the thought of running his tank over a possibly wounded soldier—or even a dead one—he jumped out of his tank and was taking these bodies—living or dead—out of the way of his tanks and his platoon, as he went up this hill under fire. And then he held out at the top against a counter attack, which he and his platoon repelled. And then he found himself stranded. Nobody ever came to relieve him. So, after a while, he got his guys together and took them back down the hill. And he said, the Italians forgot he was there. He said, I didn't do anything heroic, but I guess somebody thought it was worth a silver star, so that's what happened 17 to me. Well, anyhow, that's a story that I don't think has been told enough times. But just the idea that he's jumping out of his tank, under fire, to take wounded soldiers out of the way, so he wouldn't run over them. I mean, the mindset—the moral—whatever it is inside him to make him want to do that—or need to do that. But that's the kind of guy Perry was. Anyhow, at our 50th Norwich reunion, Perry and I got together again. He was awarded the Distance Cup for the guy who had traveled the furthest distance to come back to reunion. He had come from Israel. So that sort of cemented his relationship, I think, with his alma mater. Which had waned from a very weak beginning. But anyhow, he came back to his 50th. And he came and stayed at my home in Lancaster, New Hampshire after the reunion. And we really got to know each other, and our wives had a good time. And then I kept in contact with Perry, and he invited me to join him—he and his wife Betty were going to London for a week—and he said, why don't you come over and join us? So I said, OK. My wife, Connie, wasn't interested in going. So I flew over and met Perry at the hotel that he had suggested, and I went to check in, and I found out I was already checked in and my bill was paid in advance. So Perry and Betty and I had a ball for a week. We went to the theatre, we did everything. And, you know, after that it once again cemented our relationship. And then we started to write by cursive letters, then typewriters, then I started to send emails—and he didn't have a computer—and I got on his butt a little bit and told him it was time he came into the 20th century. So he got a computer and we started to exchange emails. I kept a record of every email I got from him, and a copy of everything I sent to him—and kept them in a three-ring binder. And at the end of every year, I sent the binder over to Kreitzberg Library as part of the archives. And I did that until just this past month—October, 2013—when I got an email from Betty telling me the sad news that Perry had died. And of course, in those volumes of correspondence—which is mostly nonsense, inane stuff—but correspondence between two guys with similar backgrounds, similar experience, one living in Israel, one living in the State, talking about what's going on in our country or town—and he lived in Ashkelon, which is about five kilometers from the Gaza Strip. So he used to report when the mortar shells were 18 being lobbed into Ashkelon, and they would hide in the stairwells of their apartment building—and so on. So all of this stuff, I think, is an important part of history. I'm so pleased that I decided to send that stuff to the archives. JP: I think that other researchers use it. I know I've used it. It's a great resource. It's, as you said, guys talking about world events with similar backgrounds. What advice would you give a rook today about how to survive and thrive? RC: Well, I—free advice, as you know, some said, "is the smallest coin of the realm," but I give it freely and frequently. I give it to my children whether they want it or not. And I give it to anybody when I think that they need it. But anyhow, I don't know what life is really like for a rook at Norwich now. All I know is what I remember back in the '40s. But I would say keep your head down, keep your mouth shut, keep out of trouble, work hard, learn responsibility and leadership. Beyond that, I don't know what I could say. JP: Those are good. You have a poem that you wrote. Would you be interested in reading that? RC: Well, yeah. One of my avocations is poetry. I'm an amateur. I never taken a course in poetry or how to write it, every once in a while the muse seems to sit on my shoulder, and I have this tremendous urge to sit down and write something. And at first I thought I had to write rhyme verse, and I think that's probably what kept me from writing poetry most of my life. But when I was on an expedition in Greenland and I kept a journal—which I self-published—it is also in the Kreitzberg Library. I found that I wrote some poems when I was in isolation, up on the icecap. And so I'm really surprised when I looked back and find that I've been writing fairly seriously for about 20 years—the last 20 years of my life. Why? I can't explain. But anyhow, I can only write what I feel and what I believe. And a lot of it is counterintuitive, and politically incorrect, and whatever—but I wrote one poem that I used at a veteran's luncheon that we had here at Kendal. And the poem is called "A Veteran Speaks". And here it goes. "Intelligentsia, laugh if you will. Yea, sneer at the patriotic redneck fools who chance their lives and crouch in fear in cold foxholes for the likes of you. You, who take the high ground or the streets to stake out your 19 perception of the higher morality with placards shouting, "Peace! Peace!", and then go home to a warm bed. Could it be that your God is neutral, and doesn't give a damn whether peace or war prevails? You take as a given that God is only with you. You, who are on the side of peace. Could it be that peace is but an unstable interval granted by God for the rest between the wars he has ordained as a sorting out, according to one of his laws, the one that Darwin deciphered? If you were as wise as Sophocles, you would know that only death keeps time from inevitably eroding friendships—be they of men or of countries—bringing them inevitably to war. God must laugh at the prophets. Those mystical schizophrenics that even now show up in every land, and claim to have heard the voice of God speaking directly to them. Explaining his will, giving birth to the myths contrived to all and control the credulous. And when the prophetic religious move on to theocracies, and the great Theocracies then clash for the great sorting out—Darwinian style. Then, perhaps God smiles and says, it is good. Laughers and sneerers, moral high-grounders, you leave it to others to lose their lives, taking the high-ground on the battle field. Lives you think they gave in vain. In peace's time, you finesse your turn to follow the action of someone else's father, mother, cousin, forebear, who risked their lives for you with the love you have never comprehended. Too late, you may learn that you have never lived until you have almost died. And that for those who have had to fight for it, freedom is a flavor you—the protected—have never known, and cannot understand." JP: Wow. Thank you. (break in audio) JP: So, in the book that you wrote with a couple of your classmates for your yearbook that never was—then and now. You talk about missing something—maybe—whether or not—no, it's called "Do You Remember?" and one of them is the joy of being dragged out of the sack in the middle of the night for P-call, and then being sent for a cold shower when your personal plumbing refused to produce. What is P-call?20 RC: Well, P-call is "piss call," and it was standard operating procedure to treat rooks in that way, as part of their growing up. And—what do you call that now? When you mistreat people? JP: Hazing. RC: Yeah. That was one of the hazing treatments that rooks were occasionally exposed to. And P-call was not only occasionally. I'll mention one other experience that I had as a matter of hazing by my classmates. Was that Basil Burrell who was my roommate in my freshman year—were pretty straight arrows. He and I had similar personalities, went to the same church, we had the same standards, both went to public high schools. We just got along very well together. And Bass and I were taking what was euphemistically called "a ride" as a sort of hazing and discipline, and kind of a getting-even with people who were straight arrows, and who—incidentally—were whistle-blowers. Basil and I, living according to the code of honor and the rook handbook, said that if you see something that is wrong and against the rules, it is your responsibility to report it. JP: It's still that way. Yeah. RC: So we saw guys cheating at an exam in a military class. And we said, hell, that ain't right. So we reported it. Well, I learned an important life lesson right then. Whistle-blowers get in trouble. And Basil and I were taken for a ride one night—about 2:00 in the morning—it was the late fall or early spring—I don't remember that it was in the dead of winter—and were taken in a car, blindfolded, and driven around for about twenty minutes—on what obviously were backroads—you could tell from, you know, from the rumple and the noise, and the tread of tires on the road—and they'd drop you off and leave you there to figure out how you're going to get home. And so Basil and I went on a ride once, as retribution, I think, for the fact that we were whistle-blowers. So, that's another level of hazing. And I must say that when I mentioned this anecdote to Russ Todd—a former Norwich president, and a Theta Chi whose butt I paddled as initiation to Theta Chi—and he looked at me and rolled his eyes in disbelief. He said, you mean that really happened? And I said, you're damn right it happened. And I'll tell you something else, I bet it's 21 happening right now, right under the nose of the people who have written and our trying to enforce the honor code—whatever it may be. And he said, well, Bob, you may be right. JP: You mentioned that Perry was one of only two Jews at Norwich—and I know there was a fraternity of the Klan during the teens. Was there much antisemitism there? RC: There wasn't expressed Semitism—antisemitism. And there weren't really two Jews in my class, there were three—which is another anecdote, if you're prepared for this? JP: Sure. RC: The day that my folks dropped me off on the parade at Norwich—my very first day—we were lined up by the company—the troop that we were assigned to. And we were told to line up according to alphabet—we had little tags on—and so we did that. And I was at one end, and there was another guy whose last name began with a 'Y' or a 'Z' at the other end. And in between were two Katzes—K-A-T-Z. The Katz were Isadore Katz and Sidney Katz, and once we were lined up, the second lieutenant in the army—who was assigned to the commandant of cadets—stood in front of us and said, OK. Now I want you to sound off, loud and clear, your last name first and then the first initial of your last name because that's how you'll be known here at Norwich. So we went down the line, got to me, and I was "Christie, R, sir." Then it was the next guy, and whoever it was. Well, we got to Katz. And Lieutenant Kelly was standing there observing all of this, and it came to Isadore Katz. And he said, "Katz, I." And the next one was Sidney Katz, and Sidney Katz said, "Katz, S." Kelly broke up. And the whole exercise got out of control. But the sad part of the story is that Katz Ass—as he was forever known—I say forever, for the next three weeks that he lasted at Norwich as Katz Ass. He left. He just couldn't stand that kind of treatment. And so there was only two Jews, and one was Izzy Katz, who was a good friend, paratrooper, never dropped in combat—which we reminded him of frequently. But anyhow, he and I were also on the "Guidon" staff, and we were on the War Whoop staff. So the then and now book, he and I worked together very closely. And we became very close friends. And he was a real New York Jewish type—wheeler dealer—he ran a Christmas tree farm in some 22 place up in northern Vermont. He was in show business, he was out in Hollywood, he was writing script and so on—wonderful guy—and I got to meet him again when he was living out in Tucson when I was visiting some of my wife's relatives out there. So anyhow, that's the story of Jews at Norwich in 1940-41—particularly of Katz, I and Perry Swirsky. JP: You mentioned earlier about being on the board of trustees when Loring Hart was president and considering adding women to the core. Do you want to talk about that at all? RC: Well, there isn't an awful to talk about. It happened. I would say the majority of the alumni were against it. Just as, here at Dartmouth, when it integrated and had women, the alumni were up in arms. And it was only the strength of character of the president and the trustees—said, it's going to happen. And that's what happened with Norwich trustees and Loring Hart said, this is going to happen. It's got to happen. And of course, this was before the civilian component. These were just women who were being integrated into the cadet corps. So, that was a big deal. JP: What were they afraid of? Not be obvious—not to be obtuse. RC: You know, in Fiddler on the Roof—it's tradition. Tradition. This is a men's college, it's a military college. Women have no place in the military. You know, whatever. That's history. Who would ever dream that there would be gay marriages in our time. JP: And Don't Ask Don't Tell got repealed. RC: Exactly. JP: Do you have anything else that you would like to add? Is there anything else you'd like to say? RC: Only to congratulate you and your tolerance of all that you've had to go through to take this interview. And I'm enjoying it immensely while it's happening. And, again, it's something for posterity, and that's part of what I do. Litera scripta manet, the written word endures. I think the spoken word, in our time, also endures. Someone may be listening to this 100 years from now, wanting to wonder what life was like in the early 20th century at Norwich. JP: It has absolutely been my honor and pleasure to talk with you, Dr. Christie. Thank you so much. RC: Well, thank you so much.23 JP: All right. (break in audio) [1:18:51] JP: And we're back with Dr. Christie, talking about his relationship with Dartmouth. RC: When I went to medical school, it was courtesy of the GI Bill and the Norwich Dean at the time, who made it possible for me to get into medical school without the preexisting courses that every pre-med has to take to apply to medical school. Zoology and comparative anatomy—which is dissecting cats and frogs and so on. The Dean at Norwich let me take freshman zoology and sophomore comparative anatomy in the pre-med program during my senior year, so that I would have the basic qualifications to apply to medical school. I had the good fortune to have a family friend who was on the admissions committee of the Long Island College of Medicine in Brooklyn, New York. I won't go into further detail—that's unnecessary—but anyhow, graduating from Norwich magna cum laude—having the World War II experience, the friendship of a member of the admissions committee of the medical school—all led to the fact that I was able to get into medical school at a time when GIs were coming back in droves—all with GI Bill opportunities ahead of them—and all trying to get into the existing colleges and universities. Well, I won't go into further detail, but the Long Island College of Medicine morphed into the State University of New York. So although I matriculated into a private medical college in Brooklyn, I actually graduated from the State University of New York at New York City—which was the official name at the time. It's now known as Downstate. And Downstate has an established academic history that I think has been accomplished since it was put together. The reason that SUNY was founded was that New York state found that they had no state university, much to their amazing. There were all kinds of private universities and colleges all over the state, but there was never any need for a state university. So they cobbled together one, and they needed medical schools, graduate schools, law schools, and so on. And Syracuse's medical school—which was a private medical college, like Long Island College of Medicine—became the SUNY upstate medical school, and Long Island College became the downstate medical school. 24 And that's the way they exist at the present time. Anyhow—with that little footnote—when it came year for me to graduate, I had just been very fortunate to graduate where I did in my class. Which was right about in the middle. You know, one thing that most people don't realize—and it's important—that 50% of the doctors in the Unites States graduated in the lower half of their medical school class. But anyhow—that being said—I did actually write two medical papers while I was a student—which sort of, I think, got me started on my writing career—which has continued to this day. Anyhow, these publications were the reason that I was awarded two prizes on the day of graduation, much to the consternation of most of the other students in my class who had graduated summa cud laude in medical school and wondering what this dumb guy was doing getting these awards. Well—a little background for that, too, is that the Long Island College of Medicine was in Brooklyn, and almost all of my classmates were Jewish. And I learned the lingo and I can spout a Yiddish phrase at the drop of a hat—which may have some relationship to the fact that Perry Swirsky and I got along so well. We used to exchange Yiddish aphorisms and so on. That being said—so all of my classmates—there was a Jewish quota—this is something else that is not known—during the early 19th century—in all medical schools, because the deans had their own association, and they—you may not want to record me—it's not well known, but there was a Jewish quota when I went to Long Island College of Medicine—and there were a lot of bright Jewish kids—as you can imagine—in New York City, which included Queens, Brooklyn, Manhattan, Staten Island, Bronx—and they were excluded from medical school. They would apply, be turned down, but—being the kinds of folks they were—would say, OK, well we'll go to CCNY or NYU or Queens College, and we'll get a masters degree in physiology, and they would reapply. And every member of my class at Long Island College of Medicine who was Jewish, had a long history of applying and being turned down by medical schools all over the United States. But the ones that got into my class were the ones who had the persistence and the credentials to get in. So, that put a guy like myself—from Norwich, with its very limited background—in zoology and comparative anatomy, dissecting frogs with guys who had PhDs in 25 biochemistry and so on. And, you know, it showed up. I mean, I was a struggling student all through my first two years where it's all classroom and very little clinical experience. Soon as I got into the clinical years, I was able to really play the game with all the rest of them. I could handle myself as well with patients as they could. And so, that was one of the reasons I was able to graduate. Not because of my academic record in my first two years. But—that having been said—it's important that—the senior year was the first year of something called the intern matching program. Up until that time, everybody had to have an internship if they were going to be licensed in a state in the United States. It didn't make any difference which state. They all required the fact that you had had an internship. In other words, that you had had some clinical experience. So, I listed in this first year of the matching program—a number of the hospitals that I knew in New York City—Bellevue and Roosevelt Hospital in Columbia, PNS—and the way things worked out, I had an opportunity to list one other out-of-city appointments that I would accept. And that turned out to be Mary Hitchcock Memorial Hospital in Hanover, New Hampshire. The reason I did that was that my freshman year of medical school, a fellow at my autopsy table—there were four of us who dissected the same cadaver—was a Dartmouth graduate, and he and I became close friends. We did a lot of visiting and traveling together. And he said, I'm going to take a tour of the hospitals up in northern New England. Would you like to come with me? And I did. And he and I visited the medical school at Burlington, and the one over here in Hanover. And when I—you know, I had loved being in Vermont, and the years that I had spent there—although it wasn't all salubrious, the first three years. I did love Vermont and northern New England, and the idea—and I was married at the time—of just doing something different came to mind. And I said, oh, what the hell? So, the phone rang. Dartmouth called up the Mary Hitchcock hospital and said, would you accept an appointment as a rotating intern? There will be 11 other interns in your intern class. And I said, yeah, sure. Sign me up. And that's how come I didn't go to Bellevue or Roosevelt Hospital or Brooklyn hospital—I ended up going to Hitchcock hospital. From there, I went and finished my internship, did a year in internal 26 medicine—wanted to do what I went into medicine for in the first place. Be a family doctor. An emulation of my family doctor when I was growing up. JP: Really? RC: And so, a couple of Dartmouth medical school graduates were practicing over in Northfield, and they had a place called the Green Mountain Clinic. And they were looking for an associate, and they came to Dartmouth, and they made their needs known, and we got connected. And I said, what the hell? I'm not sure I want to be an internist. I'd like to see what it's really like to practice medicine. So that's how I got connected with being in practice—general practice for three years at Northfield. And, because of my Norwich background, Ernie Harmon—who was then the president—appointed me the university surgeon. Well, I wasn't going to do any surgery at the university. But the three of us who were the doctors in the town at Green Mountain Clinic took turns taking sick call. And what we were called was—you know, in the army, when you're the doctor, you're the surgeon. You go down to see the surgeon because that's what doctors did mostly in the army. So anyhow, that's how I became the university surgeon, and it was my relationship with Ernie Harmon—which is a whole other set of stories—that led to that. Ernie was actually one of my patients for minor illnesses. He got most of his care at the VA hospital down here. But, you know, when he had a sore throat or a boil or something like that, he'd come down to the Green Mountain Clinic and be one of my patients. As was Shorty Hamilton, of course. Perley Baker. So I was well connected later on with the faculty. But that's what my connection with Dartmouth reconnected me with Norwich. And when I got to Norwich, I was amongst a lot of Norwich alums—one of which was John Mazuzan, the fellow who had the printing office where I set type for the "Guidon", and who actually printed up the "Guidon". He was the one who did the Norwich record, and it was a very minor publication, I can assure you. And he asked me if I would work with him on the Norwich record. And so, I did, and before I knew it, I was a member of the Alumni Association. Because he was, in essence—because he was the publisher of the Norwich record of the Alumni Association. There was no association. 27 So he said, you know, I'm going to appoint you the Alumni Association president. So that's how I became president of the Norwich Alumni Association. Well, that led to a slot on the board of trustee. When I finished being a trustee for five years, with Bob Hallam—another Norwich graduate -- JP: The engineer? RC: Yeah. And a very successful one. We were approached after we finished out final year by Jake Shapiro, who was a war hero in the Africa corps—was badly wounded—shot up there—but a very dedicated Norwich alumnus. And he and I got to be good friends. And he used to visit me because he was a business man with business over in Maine, and when he was traveling from wherever he was living at the time, he would always drop in at the farm where I was living. And we would have a couple drinks together, and sometimes dinner together. So Jake was a good friend. But that came later. But Jake said to Bob Hallam and myself, you know, we've been thinking as the trustees that it's so damn sad that so many guys like yourselves, who have had all the experience in the Alumni Association—you're graduates—and so on. And you go become a trustee, and there's nothing beyond that for you to be involved with Norwich about—except maybe giving money. So Jake said, how would you guys like to start some kind of organization of fellows of Norwich University, who will sort of be in the background and be a means of continuity of active alums who have done a lot for the university, who have been connected in some way. And so, Bob Hallam and I—and the then commandant of cadets—got together and we set up the Board of Fellows, and I became the first president of the Board of Fellows, and was the president for—I don't know—five or eight years—and did that. And so, I've just been connected with everybody—all the presidents and whatever—right along the line—and that, of course, explains my deep relationship—and continued relationship—with Norwich. And I doubt that the many of my peers here at Kendal have the kind of relationship with their alma mater that I've had with mine. For all the reasons that I've been talking about here. Oh, here I've run on for more --28 JP: That's fine. I have to ask. If you've got a Harmon story -- RC: I do. Well, I have a couple of Harmon stories. JP: That's fine. RC: The first was at the time I graduated from Norwich, when we came back as seniors. Of course, we were in uniform. And we were sort of mentors to the cadets. When they wanted to know what it was like in the real military—what combat was like, all that stuff. You know, they'd—we'd have a beer together up at the tavern and—you know, we got an unofficial role—but anyhow, we were in uniform. The day I graduated, Ernie Harmon was on the stage. He was not the president at the time, but I think he might have given the graduation address. "Ol' Gravel Voice" he was called, and he gave a wonderful talk. And I—you know—he was the CG of the Second Armored Division in Africa and Sicily—not sure Africa, but I know in Sicily and Italy—and then he went to the ETO, and he was involved, as I was, in the Battle of the Bulge. So we had this loose relationship. Well, walking across the stage to get my diploma, Ernie sees my Third Armored Division patch on one shoulder of my uniform, and the Constabulary patch on the other. And of course, he had been the commanding general of the Constabulary—which my division had become, as I previously accounted as the kind of occupation police force in Germany. Well, I was the troop commander of my Constabulary troop in Ulm and the discipline was a little loose in my troop. I have to admit that. It wasn't that I didn't know what was right, or what should be done. But, you know, the war was over, I was waiting to go home, and I wasn't a spit and polish guy in my troop. It ran very well, everybody was happy, no suicides or anything like that. But anyhow, who should arrive on the scene in Goering's private train—which he had commandeered after the war. It was painted with a big Constabulary signature on the side—same as on the patch on my shoulder—and out of it stepped Ernie Harmon to inspect my troop, unannounced. Well, he came up to where we were, and he found a few things he didn't like. One was that a recent recruit was standing around doing nothing in particular when Ernie thought he should be doing something in particular. He didn't care what it was, but he should be 29 doing something. Well, unfortunately, a buck sergeant—recently over from the States, not part of the combat experience—was in charge of this group of other new recruits. And this guy, this buck sergeant, was sweeping off the steps of the mess hall. And when Ernie Harmon saw a buck sergeant sweeping the steps, with privates standing around doing nothing, he exploded. And he started to chew, and he started at the bottom, and he chewed right up through the privates, through the corporals, through the sergeants, through the top sergeant, through the lieutenants, through the captain—that was me—and he said, Christie, I don't want to have anything like this happen under your command. Understand that? Yes, sir. Well, things tightened up after that, of course. Although, he never did come back. And I came home a couple of months after that. But that was my first experience—face to face—with Ernie Harmon. Which is the prelude to what happened when I picked up my diploma from his hand. He looked at my patches and gave a kind of quizzical look, and he said, "I know you, you son of a bitch." I didn't know what to do. So like I said, pass gas or wind my watch—at that point. So anyhow, I said, "Yes, sir. I remember you, too, sir." And the next thing he said—well, of course people were lined up to walk across the stage—and not many of them would have a conversation with Ernie Harmon. So anyhow, he said, Christie, are you married? And I said, "No, sir." Well, he said, "Get married and be productive!" Yes, sir. And that was—the next time I saw him, he was the president of Norwich University, and he was one of my patients. JP: Oh my gosh. He had Goering's train car? RC: Oh, yeah. He captured it—you know—we had souvenirs. That was one of his souvenirs. He had to travel all over Germany on the railroad. He needed a private car, private engine—whatever. Goering had that in spades. Beautiful train, engine, and had two cars. It was Ernie Harmon's headquarters. JP: Oh my gosh. I've never heard that story. That is priceless. RC: So, that's my Ernie Harmon story. JP: Oh, thank you. That's a good one. Anything else?30 RC: I think I've kind of run out of anecdotes. I, you know, I could come up and talk all day and all night about things that I remember that have happened. But anyhow, that is just skipping on top of some of the highlights. JP: Thank you so much. END OF AUDIO FILE

Issue 28.4 of the Review for Religious, 1969. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gailen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to R~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63~o3. Questions for answering s.hould be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's Church; 321 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Db.'inity of Saitxt Louis University, the editorial ottices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1969by REvIr:W. voR REt.mlOt:S at 428 East Preston Street; Bahimore, Mary-land 2t202. Printed in U,S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices, Single copies: $1,00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $5.00 a year, $9.00 for two .years; othei countries: $5.50 a year, $10.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions, where ac¢om. panied by a remittance, should be sent to REVIEW VOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 671; Baltimore, Maryland 21203. Changes of address, business correspondence, and orders not accompanied by a remittance should be sent:to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ; 421:1 East Preston Street; Baltimore, MarTland 2120'2. Manuscripts, editorial cor-respondence, and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOL'S; 612 Humbold t Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis "Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. JULY 1969 VOLUME 28 NUMBER 4 SISTER ELAINE MARIE PREVALLET, S.L. Reflections .on . Pr a and Religious Renewal It is fairly commonplace today that in all the talk of religious renewal the most neglected area is that of prayer. One might hazard the guess that this area is one of the most basic and most in need of rethinking and genuine renewal; one might also hazard the guess that people do not talk in depth about it because they do not know what to say. Like other areas of.renewal, there is question of what can be changed and what must remain. iEqually, there is growing realization that it will not be su~ient, to change the horarium and the outward form ur:less there is also renewal of the inner dynamic of /, prayer. To change structure may indeed be the likeliest ',,.¢-,way to achieve the change in process and attitude. If that is so, as the structure begins to change, new develop-ments in our understanding of prayer may arise from the life and experiences of renewal-minded religious com-munities during the next decade. What will be needed, however, is much sharing of and reflection upon the experience of religious, and sensitivity to new insights into the character of their prayer. We shall attempt here only to indicate some general areas of difficulty or de-velopment which characterize our present situation; Two observations may be in order at the outset. First, the difficulty with the concept of prayer is no doubt due to the pace and noise of modern society; but it is, I believe, more largely due to the crisis of faith which characterizes our age. When the basic notion of God is under so much scrutiny, and when one finds so much un-certainty as to the meaning and validity of believing in God at all, then obviously the concept of pra~e.r cannot remain untouched. For the nature and meaning of prayer will be determined by the character or concept of the one to whom one prays. Even though our under-standing of God must be constantly changing and growing, yet it must be in some fundamental way secure 4- Sister Elaine Ma-rie, S.L. is the chairman ol the de-partment of theol-og~ at Loretto Heights College; 3001 South Fed-eral; Denver, Colo-rado. 802S6:!2, ~ VOLUME :28, 1969. ÷ ÷ ÷ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 532 in faith. If we are not sure of God or it we do not know what our relationship to Him is, we cannot, be sure ot praye~---whether we should pray or how much we should pray. Hence, the difficulties in prhyer are closely tied to difficulties in faith.1 Secondl), it seems to me an unnecessary obfuscation of the issue to speak ot work as prayer. Prayer must, ot course, have an intimate connection with life and must therefore be related to work; but it aids neither our understanding nor our prayer to say that work is prayer. Prayer, as I shall refer to it, contains an essential com-ponent ot consciousness, reflection; it includes what has traditionally been named meditation. It may indeed occur that one prays--reflects upon meanings and values in the light ot the gospel message or one's understand-ing ot God--while one works. But to equate the two seems to me to be playing with words, the result being the loss ot the meaning ot prayer. Reflection takes time, effort, concentration. We are not a patient society, not used to being quiet; we are used to looking tot quick pragmatic results. Prayer demands patience and quiet; and it will often produce no immediate, demonstrable result. Hence, the tendency is to want to leave prayer aside, and one way ot doing this is simply to make facile verbal equation between work and prayer. The;~is~ sue is then quickly settled. When we are lett to our own in the matter that is, it we have provided no set time or place or fre-y.~] quency-~our experience will probably be that prayer will, sooner or later, simply drop out ot the picture. It will be pushed out by more immediate demands, more concrete "work to do." Yet it seems essential that the lives ot religious have a dimension ot depth and that religious themselves have what might be called a con-sciousness ot ultimacy. They must have a certain steady perspective, a clear focus. They must have this, not just for themselves, but [or others, as part of their service. Yet, in the immediacies that make up daily living, perspective and focus are easily lost; depth quickly turns shallow and empty. It seems necessary, then, to provide for oneself time and quiet to ponder meanings and values in the light ot the gospel message or in the light o[ one's understanding ot God. It is necessary to deepen one's understanding o[ faith, to reflect on the meaning ot God's loving presence. Finding God in prayer is a necessary concomitant to recognizing His presence in XA good treatment of this situation is given by Douglas Rhymes, Prayer in the Secular City (Philadelphia: Westminster, 1967), espe-cially pp. 12-25. all things. Obviously, this is saying nothir~g new. It is simply reasserting the value of balancing action with contemplation.2 Let us now consider some perspectives which may prove valuable to the development of prayer at the present time. Christianity and Personalism From all sides we become aware that we are living in an age of "the person," an age which has a new realiza-tion of the value, the uniqueness, the importance of the human person. In this context, Christianity shows itself as eminently propounding the value of the human per-son: the Christian revelation of God as Trinity is, after all, a revelation of God as personal, as communicating Persons. The Incarnation speaks of the personal love of God for man and His desire to be in communion with man; the Resurrection of Christ speaks of the continuing possibility for man to be in personal communion with God through the humanity of Christ. These three central dogmas of the Christian mystery indicate that man's re-lationship with God is a deeply personal one, allowing whatever is deepest and most unique in each man to find its expression and its fulfillment in his relationsh.ip with the Divine Persons. If we seek to understand prayer, therefore, we may well begin with simply this affirmation of man as person and God as Persons. We may move from that to a second affirmation, equally involving the dimensions of person, and speak of presence. For the possibility of being per-sonally present to another is one of the highest preroga: tives of man. Here again the Trinity speaks of personal presence as belonging to God Himself; the Incarnation speaks of the presence of God to man in Christ, and the Resurrection speaks of the continuing presence of the risen Christ to His followers. If we wish a basis for personal prayer, we need no other starting point than these fundamental Christian affirmations. We can under-stand personal prayer as involving the presence of the Three Persons who are God, and, most especially, the presence of the risen Christ. To be conscious of this presence requires faith, but also deliberate effort--time and concentration--to reflect upon the faith-datum and its significance. ~ We do not wish to assert priorities here; it is not a case of either/or, but of both/and. Equally, we do not wish to deny that when faith is deeply lived, there need be no disjunction, between work and prayer. But given our human situation, it seems safe to say, minimally, that thought is necessary for finding and maintain-ing meaning and perspective. -:;- ", -- 4- ÷ ÷ Prayer and Renewal VOLUME 28, 1969 Sister Elain~ Mari~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Individual Prayer We can move from here to ask what characterizes the relationship between the risen Christ and the believer, and therefore what the qualities of prayer will be.~ We can treat these briefly under the headings of love, need, and thanksgiving. If we examine any love relationship, we will find that it always involves a personal petition to be accepted and loved by the other. Hence love always involves prayer to the other--a petition, implicit or explicit, for under-standing, for acceptance--simply for communion. In the last analysis, what any such prayer seeks is com-munion of heart and mind, reconciliation of under-standing and wills. Expressed simp!y, we want to be one with the person to whom we are praying:' we want him to understand our prayer, and we want to understand him as he receives our prayer. It is here that meditation on the life of Christ in the Gospels finds its importance. For the risen Christ now is the same Christ who lived the inciden~ ts portrayed in the Gospels; He is now, as it were, the result of the experiences which He assimilated dur-ing His earthly life. The mysteries of His life on earth live on in Him, and they must be entered into by any-one wishing to know Him as He is now. To use an analogy: I am as I am now because of what has hap-pened to me in the past. Anyone who wants to under-stand me deeply ~nust understand certain of the signifi-cant experiences that have formed me, have given my life direction. And in the measure that another under-stands in a deep and compassionate way my past, in the measure that another has been able to enter into my past, to experience it with me, the other will under- Stand me. So in our attempt to come to union of heart and mind with Christ: insofar as we penetrate the experience de-picted in the gospel, we come to understand the living Christ who is now as He is because of those experiences. If we want to know the Christ whom we are petitioning, then we will need to know Him through the Gospels.* Further, in any love relationship, the one whom we love finally determines both the character and the con-tent of a prayer; in some sense then, the one addressed in prayer has a major role in creating the prayer. We * Much of the following is drawn from M. Nddoncelle's analysis in God's Encounter with Man (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964). * For a more detailed and carefully nuanced presentation of the place of contemplation of the Gospels in Christian life, see David Stanley, "Contemplation of the Gospels, Ignatius Loyola, and the Contemporary Christian," Theological Studies, v. 29 (1968), pp. 417--45. will ask for what the one petitioned can give, and we will ask it in a way we know to be acceptable to him. Reflection upon this will perhaps give a direction for thinking about the questions so often posed these days: why should I pray? for what should I pray? If one re-flects that the one receiving the petition is God, loving and personal, then one might conclude that one could ask God for anything, for nothing is impossible to Him. However, if one considers more deeply the person of Christ, and, knowing Christ, knows also His deepest concerns, then one would be led to pray not for trivia but to seek in prayer a communion in His concerns. The Christ of the Gospels has as His deep concern the genuine well-being of men, their relationships, their dignity, their fulfillment. Our prayer, then, if it really considers the one petitioned and seeks communion with Him, will result in a sharing in His concern for men, communion in His outlook with respect to the needs of men, communion of understanding of the Christian task. Thus, if we have sought genuine com-munion with Christ, our prayer will impel us outward-- to meet the needs o£ the neighbor. This means also that we need not leave behind or abstract from our own daily living and working in prayer, but rather that we try to come to see how Christ's concern, His outlook, His understanding, can be translated by us into our con-crete situations. From the other side, the one petitioned would want to understand us as we approach him in prayer--why we pray, what its content means, and to respond in the way that will fulfill the deepest need of the one praying. Love does not refuse the petition of love, yet must be at liberty to answer as love knows best. Hence prayer can never be an effort at manipulation; it can never seek to use the other as the instrument of its own advance. Love approaches the autonomy of the other, approaches him freely and leaves the other free in response. Again, then, love is seeking nothing so much as communion; it is entering into the myster~ of the other, it is allowing two freedoms to meet, it is allowing its own develop-ment to be charted by the free response of the other. Prayer will accordingly always contain an element of surrender. But we can approach prayer also from the angle of existential human need. To seek communion with an-other is really to seek to fulfill a deep human need--the need to come to terms with human existence as incom-plete, to free oneself from self-sufficiency. To recognize one's own need, to approach another in need is, con-trary to our tendency to sufficiency, deeply human and + Prayer and Renewa! VOLUME 28, 1969 Sister Elaine Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 536 deeply fulfilling. To pray to another is to offer oneself as apprentice, to be willing to learn, to admit that we do not know or cannot do, that we are not in complete mastery of the course of our destiny, that we do not always perceive the meaning of events. Being ready to admit our insufficiency and approaching Christ to try to see things as He sees them, to seek thus a reconciliation of our mind and heart with His is already fulfilling an existential demand: that we, humanly, are limited, are needy, that we find fulfillment only in communion. To pray, then, belongs to the truth of human nature; it is an impulse that genuinely expresses and fulfills a deep need of human existence. The attitudes of love and of need come together in the basically Christian prayer of thanksgiving. For we turn to Christ as the effective sign that we are loved by God, that His love has touched our humanity and opened it. In relationship with Him we recognize that our human need is not a burden but a joy, the joy of being creatures, the joy of being redeemed and accepted as sons of a loving Father. In Christ, then, we need not make a pre-terise of sufficiency but can freely and lovingly admit our need and turn to him for acceptance, for a perspective which is fuller than our own and can complete and cor-rect it. Because we are creatures in need, yet because He lives to be in loving communion with us, our prayer of need is already thanksgiving. For our deepest existential need is to be accepted and loved as we are and thus brought to transcend ourselves. Communion with God in Christ can do this in a way that no human communion can. It is Christ who most fully recognizes and accepts the human condition as creaturely, as unredeemed, and who exists only to meet us "where we are," and to bring us beyond ourselves to the Father. When we turn to Christ in prayer, it is then already thanksgiving that He is there, that He knows us and loves us as .we are, that we can be in communion with Him. Community Prayer What distinguishes community prayer from individual personal prayer is, obviously, the presence of the com-munity. But this factor can provide us with some ma-terial for reflection. We may start with the premise that each individual has been touched and loved by God; each is uniquely related to God in Christ. Further, each individual has his own gift for the building up of the Body of Christ. For a community to be a community in any profound Christian sense, there must be among the members a sensitivity to the part played by each, an ap-preciation of the unique gift which, each possesses, a willingness to help each other be what he or she is in- tended to be. There must be a sense of belonging to each other, of being for each other, of affecting each other by what each says and does and is. There must be, then, some sense of communion. It is perhaps precisely the phenomenon of the com-munity that has been neglected in our previous methods of community prayer. If we take seriously the presence of Christ in each other, then .we have to admit that each member of the community may be a "word" of Christ to us. Community prayer might well include some oppor-tunity to listen to the word of Christ from within the community. This would presuppose that the members approach community prayer with the mentality of being "present" to each other, as well as to God; it would mean that we make some effort to be conscious and aware of the others with us at prayer, instead of regard-ing them as a source of distraction. The community at prayer adds a new dimension--the presence of Christ in each other--to our way of approaching Him in prayer. One might, in this context, suggest that some of the prayer we address to Christ ought, in fact, to be a prayer to the community. A prayer of loneliness, of weariness, of discouragement, might more practically be met by Christ in the community than by Christ addressed ver-tically. This implies, of course, great openness among the members of the community, sensitivity and receptivity to human needs. The basis for such prayer can be seen in this passage from Origen: Take the case of a man who is of the number of those who have acquired more than sufficient of the needs of life and charitably hears the request of a poor man who petitions God for his wants. It is clear that this man too will accede to the petition of the poor man. For he obeys the will of the Fa-ther who brings together .at the time of prayer the one who prays and the other who can grant the prayer and cannot, because of God's kindly provision, ignore the needs of the former. We must not, therefore, think that when these things hap-pen they happen by chance. For He who has numbered all the hairs on the head of the saints brings together in harmony at the time of prayer both him who can do a service, giving ear to him who is in need of His benevolence, and the one who devoutly prays? God answers men's prayer by bringing the community together so that men may, in Christ, meet the needs presented there. One may, evidently, speak one's need-- or in other words, pray--to Christ through the commu-nity, and it is in this way that He answers one's prayer. To do this in the explicit context of Christian prayer ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer and Renewal sOrigen, Prayer, xi, 4-5; translated in Origen: Prayer, Exhorta- VOLUME tion to Martyrdom, trans. John J. O'Meara (Westminster: Newman, 1954), pp. 45-6. 537 REVIEW FOR RELI@IOUS 5S8 seems to provide a genuine opportunity of deepening one's faith in the presence of Christ in the community, as well as drawing attention to our responsibility to meet the needs of others--an end toward which prayer to Christ must always lead us. Further, it is our human experience of what it means to be related as persons that is always our prime analo-gate for understanding our relationship with God in Christ. Community prayer may provide us with deep experiences of what it means to be persons in commu-nity, and therefore might greatly aid our understanding of what we mean when we speak of God as Persons, or of the Trinity, Community prayer will be improved, it seems, if we consider it not only as individuals gathering to recite together the same prayer, but as individuals gathering, sensiti~ce to and aware of each other, to say who they are together: that they have common desires, common needs, a common faith. They can profess at once their faith in God and in each other, their trust in God and in each other. They may gather to say to God and to each other that they are sinful, that they need forgiveness from God and from each other. They may listen and respond together to Scripture or to other readings that would bring them together in communion with Christ in heart and mind, and in communion of conviction and purpose with respect to their task in the world. We do not wish to deny the value of structured com-munal forms of prayer such as the Divine Office. These can provide a welcome balance for the more personal, subjective form suggested above. We wish only to sug-gest that on occasion some way of acknowledging and being aware of the presence of each other in prayer may be an important factor in preventing community prayer from becoming formalized, and may be a way of keeping ~t relevant to the life and needs of the community. It becomes, then, a means of growth in faith and in love both for God and for each other, and thus a means of really creating genuine Christian community. If individ-ual prayer seeks communion of heart and mind with Christ or the persons of the Trinity, then community prayer must have as an added aim a communion of heart and mind with the community. It seems obvious that this is somewhat difficult if nothing is done to make one aware of the presence and needs of the community members. Community prayer must aim at making a conscious community in Christ--by sharing in ioy and sorrow, need and suffering with each other, in the presence of Christ. A community becomes a community precisely by acknowledging needs and praying to and for each other. A community, then, comes together to pray, but it is also formed into a genuine and meaningful commu-nity through its sharing in prayer. From a different angle, reflection upon our experience of the community indicates that all members of a reli-gious community do not have the same gift of prayer. Given the premise that each individual has his own gift for the building up of the Body of Christ, it seems evi-dent that some individuals are, by temperament and by gift, more disposed to prayer-.and reflection than others. Perhaps this is an area where the fruits of one's gift for the Body must be seen in a communal context: that if' we have in our community someone with a gift for prayer, we all share in the benefits of his or her reflec-tion, his prayerfulness. This in no way dispenses the other members not so gifted from any effort in this direc-tion. Each person must be concerned about acquiring the dimension of depth in his faith life, must be con-cerned about communion of heart and mind with Christ. Yet if it is our experience that even in religious commu-nities all do not have the same gift, we may profit from trying to understand that experience. All must be sensitive to this gift in their midst, ap-preciate it, and encourage its development. Equally, all can benefit from those who do have a special gift of prayer. But this implies that the one so gifted must be openhearted enough to share his insights and reflections, for this is part of the responsibility connected with the gift of prayer as contributing to the building up of the Body of Christ. Doubtless we need to reflect more deeply upon the matter of responsibility to and for the gift of prayer. No prayer is purely individual. All prayer be-longs to and is at the service of Christian community. Sacramental Prayer Sacramental prayer may now be ,seen as incorporating and epitomizing all the elements present in other forms of prayer. Christ is present to each individual who par-ticipates in sacramental action; each is uniqt~ely re-lated to Him. The community is also present--present there to each other and to God. Christ is present in the community. But He is also present, acting through the symbols used in sacramental action. Here, once again, we need to be conscious not only of ou.r vertical relationship to Him, but also of the other members of the community, aware of them and present to them. We need, further, to be conscious of how Christ is present in sacramental signs: we need to have reflected deeply upon the natural meanings involved in each of the sacramental signs, but also upon their specific Christian meaning, shared and understood by the com-munity. For Christ will act toward us according to the meaning of these signs. Each sign says something to us ÷ Prayer and Renewal~ VOLUME~281 1969, ".~ + ÷ ÷ Sister Eioine Marie REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 540 as individuals loved and touched by God, but also to us as a community. Sacraments are occasions when we gather as a community to celebrate, in specific, signify-ing ways, God's loving us and His acting through Christ in our midst. Ideally, then, sacramental action should include some opportunity for explicit awareness of the community. How this may be done with greatest effectiveness may vary. A communal celebration of penance might include, individual "prayer" to the community, or the commu-nity's praying together to acknowledge its communal blindness, inertia, and negligence, its need for forgive-ness, for Christ's redeeming love. It might include some action or gesture to signify forgiveness of one another as mediating, along with the sacramental sign, the forgive-ness of Christ. The Eucharistic prayer is more easily recognized as communal, since our eating of the one bread and drink-ing of the one chalice say that we already share, in Christ, a communion of life with Him and with each other. The signs of food, and Christ's presence to us through these signs, as well as the presence of the com-munity there, both say that we are creatures who need the sustenance and nourishment of faith and hope and love; we need this nourishment from Christ, but also from one another. This is eminently the sacrament of thanksgiving, as we return to God, in and with Ghrist, all that we have and are. The Eucharist is in a very real sense the highest point of our prayer, both individual and communal; it is the culminating point of our presence to and communion with Christ and the Chris-tian community. It should be an occasion of real cele-bration of our community in Christ. More thought will need to be given to the matter of celebrating, and how our awareness of each other, of our community, can be given recognition in Eucharistic celebration. Conclusion This is obviously only a sketch of some lines along which we might watch for development in the prayer life of religious communities. There is urgent need that religious be convinced of the value of prayer and de-termined to realize its value and meaning in forms suit-able for our times and within the thought patterns of our age. We have undertaken the task of wholesale re-newal of religious life, including its most mysterious dimension, that of prayer. If we fail in this task, some-thing deep and nourishing for our lives and the life of the Church will simply die. Only if we succeed will we find strength, vitality, and meaning to enable us to make our contribution to the Body of Christ in the twentieth century. It is worth our best efforts. EDITED BY THOMAS F. O'MEARA, O.P. Community and Commitment COMMUNITY There* is a new burst of awareness and[desire for com-munity both within and without the Church. The need for community lies deep in the heart of ~tlan. Religious and apostolic life cannot find its source} realization, or sign value simply in the fact that a gr~oup of men or women dress alike and perform certain ritual actions together Human relations are too profound, too deep 1y explore~, too important for this-superfiCial bond. Why do religious live in community? In some way it must be to enable and to enrich a human, Christian, apostolic, and celibate life. Each of these aspects calls for commu-nity and must find it or be frustrated. For-the present generation, isolated and made anxious by advancing technology, community is essential. A! new view of religious life must emphasize its importan.ce and its roots in the New Testament. Community exists to help the person develop as a person, to help the Christian develop !as a Christian. Community must be an adult familial ~ommunity, for this is basic to man. If a man does not create one through marriage, he must find another form, for man cannot live totally alone ~nd live healthily. R~.ligious commu-nity life, like the Christian individual, i~ a place where nature and grace meet. The charisms of the Spirit, the times, the heritage of the order, the psychological needs of persons are an array of aspects highl:ighting the im-portance of community. Community supports the indi-vidual in his apostolate; it gives hir~ direction and encouragement. But community is not jffst the backdrop * This article is excerpted from a paper feceS,' tly prepared by a group of midwestern Dominicans. The title ofI the ful.1 paper is "Towards a Theology of the Dominican Life in the United States Today." The article presented here has been edited b~ Thdmas F. O'Meara, O.P. I + 4- 4, Father Thomas O'Meara, O.P., is a member of Aquinas Institute School of Theology; St. Rose l~riory; Dubuqqe, Iowa 52001¢ " - . ; VOLUME 28;.1959: ¢'.,' 541 T. F. O'Meara, O.P. REVIEW I~OR RE~L[GIOUS ~2 for activity; it is essential to effective Christian life and apostolate. Apostolate and community are correlatives. Neither can be defined without the other. We are in-volved in a communal apostolate and an apostolic com-munity. We do not yet know how the rather recent re-discovery of the importance of community will effect a more profound level of community life; but we do know that for the United States and the American life style this rediscovery is extremely important, perhaps more important (and more advanced) when compared to the life style of Europeans. The previous form of routine, joint prayer (which is not the same as communal prayer), tolerant charity, frustrating or limiting obedience was insufficient. It often led to seeking a "family" outside of the priory rather than bringing friends into our family. The jurid-ical description of community is insufficient, since community is primarily a human and Christian, a psy-chological and socio-theological reality. Law can neither form nor direct true community; it can only give a very few boundaries beyond which community could not exist. From these legal lines to real community is a long road, but it is a road which the Christians could begin to traverse if they would emphasize grace, not law. If the Church is a microcosm of the world, the reli-gious community is a microcosm of the society in which it lives. The religious community should be a kind or type of Christian community, a model for it. By its very existence in communal sharing and dedication to preaching the gospel, the religious community shows it is not the world. But the religious community is in the world. It shares in human communities--in their life and in their structures. By baptism and vows we look to a special fulfillment beyond the merely social community of family and city. This is possible, however, only by listening closely to the insights of the gospel, to the Church, and to the contributions of the secular sciences. Psychology can be seen as a kind of praeparatio evan-gelica for healthy community life, for charity, maturity, honesty, joy, and dedication. We must learn what is the correct size for a community of men or of women, as determined by social and psychological studies; how a community can best be directed; what is the importance of work; whether one community needs a single apostolic goal or whether these can be pluralistic. Neither theology nor canon law have all the information on this; social psychology and management planning must help. We will see below that the community is the source of authority. The superior exemplifies the spirit of the community. He inspires and coordinates the ac-tivities of the community flowing from their life and work. He is not, primarily, a secretary, a bookkeeper, or a control center for daily life. The community should be open because Christian Iove is open; the community is mature and the superior a guide rather than a controller because this reflects the Christian (not the Jewish) idea of God. No closed community is happy. Jesus Christ was not closed in upon himself. Christian community-apostles must not be just intellectually open, but emotionally and psychologically open to change, to newness, to risk. To be such, the religious community must be physically open to the com-munities it borders. Religious communities cannot be fortresses, for these are anachronistic. Rather they must be dynamic centers of the Christian prophetic word en-gaging in conversation and cooperation with the world. Privacy and silence have a purpose, but they are not absolutes; they are ordained to dialogue and mission, and so cannot object to a reasonable openness of a com-munity to those for whom we exist. Just as vatican II showed that the world was vastly complex and different, and emphasized the local church as the New Testament does, so too a new view of reli-gious life will emphasize the local community. This is where religious life will be lived or will die out. The novitiate and a few houses of so-called strict observance cannot be the norm, especially in the United States where such a "norm" would be viewed as hypocritical. The local community will either attract novices to its kind of life or none will come, since young Americans are now attracted to concrete persons and what they are doing, not to ancient saints or romantic descriptions. The local community is all-important, and the province is seen as the coordinating center of creative and respon-sible local communities. VOWS IN C01V[MUNITY The Vows as Commitment to Christian Community and Ecclesial Apostolate The vows are directed towards community member-ship and activity. Since they are acts of persons, they have personal implications such as lasting celibacy, per-sonal mortification and denial, communal sharing, and so forth. But the community dimension can no longer be eclipsed by the personal; it is the community way of life which asks for celibacy; it is a particular level of apostolic efficiency and potential which requests poverty; and obedience is basically not the submission to one man's direction in the details of li[e, but the entrance into a community with its own necessary leadership. Vows are a lasting commitment to service through corn- Community and Commitra~nt VOLUME 28, 1969 munity for the kingdom of God. Obedience is commit-ment to community; poverty exists for service, peace, and equality; chastity is essential to this kind of dedication. Because of the importance of the New Testament record and an individual's commitment, we must have a Biblical theology of commitment-in-vows. We 'must have not only a Biblical theology of the vows, but a sociology and psychology of them as well. The vows are not re-straints but liberating influences. Are the vows the same as every and any commitment to a religious community? Do they have positive sign value today, as the Council de-mands they should? Does their nomenclature get in the way? Perhaps it is possible to see different levels of active commitment following evangelical counsels: these levels would be introductory (novitiate), temporary and termi-nal (auxiliaries), permanent but open to dispensation, and final. We must be wary of stating a theology of vows in terms of any dualism or any triumphalism. We cannot take for granted our identification of virginity with virtue, poverty with righteousness, or the religious life with a higher state. The vows, like the religious life, cannot be absolutes since they are means. How can Americans rediscover, emphasize, and expli-cate the goals towards which the vows tend. If these goals die out or escape achievement, the vows no longer have any real purpose. The keeping of a vow without any purpose or success is not in keeping with Jesus' reli-gious thought. Vows are means to love, to zeal, to open-ness, to adaptation, to maturity, to Christian apostolic success, to service. Vows do not permit us to have no concern for the future of ourselves or our society, to have no interest in others, to withdraw, to escape decisions and responsibilites, persecution and defamation, to es-cape the necessity of worrying about life and livelihood, to ignore the effectiveness of our community and the Roman Catholic Church. The purpose of the vows is to communicate Christ through a personal and communal life in God. 4. 4. 4. T. F. O'Meara, O.P. REV|EW~ FOR RELIGIOUS 544 Chastity A theology of religious chastity avoids every dualism. It never loses sight of the goodness of human emotions and sexuality, the permanent role sexuality plays in a balanced personality. Chastity is not a means of not-getting- involved in the world, of "avoiding near occa-sions of sin." Chastity is not a way of playing safe, nor are sins against chastity the most horrendous of the religious life, adding "malice" to sexual disorder. A re-ligious~ chastity can be a .selfishness of great proportions. Chastity must search seriously for its justification, and each must ask whether he justifies his living of a life which is not creative of human family; he asks this question not just once at perpetual vows but throughout his life. It is not at all clear that Americans today are more involved in sexual immorality than in the past, although they are certainly barraged with the glorification of sexuality. Still, the seriousness of not sharing one's life with another human being, the potential ambiguity of sexual abstinence, and the gift of creating a family should not be set aside easily. Does celibate chastity as a commitment to a community of Christian service have the theology and sign value for today it deserves? How do religious love in a human way? How is sexuality present in a love for the community and the world? Psychology must help to determine the dynamics and limitations of chastity in each individual, and the particular conditions which this or that province or house must take into ac-count. Chastity allows for a certain level of Christian dedica-tion to the apostolate and sanctity. It is academic to ask whether this is better or best, since only the individ-ual with his God-given vocation has a "place" in the sight of God. Chastity allows (it does not insure or cause) dedication: (a) to many persons rather than a few; (b) to areas of work which are dangerous or demanding in an exceptional way; (c) to an intensity of work in quality and quantity. Chastity is connected with the revolution-ary, missionary, and suffering nature of the Christian apostolate insofar as the celibate preacher of the gospel can go where a family cannot. Ghastity and poverty allow a certain economic and social independence, a freedom from political or economic systems which may be perversely harming human life and development. Poverty Poverty is not simply the absence of normal or special consumer goods. Amid growing American affluence, poverty is an evil, and the American mentality is intent upon its elimination. Christian "poverty" can have value in America as a sign of Christian eschatology and as an identification with the downtrodden and persecuted. In the present social and political upheavals within the United States, it has become clear that some religious who "practiced" poverty (sometimes in ludicrous detail) at the same time possessed a mentality which was un-sympathetic to the poor. Poverty must be seen, then, as a sign of the worldly and transcendent kingdom of God, of the "already" and "not yet" of the Christian mission. There are three aspects of poverty within the religious life, aspects which must be constantly tested as to whether they have a contemporary voice and to whether ÷ ÷ ~ommunity and Commitment VOLUME 2~ 1969 T. F. O~Meara, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELlflIOUS they are kept in the right balance. (1) Poverty of the individual and community must be proportionate to the particular apostolate and community. Poverty must smooth the road to effective apostolate and Christian Service. We must not let privileges, traditions, "contacts" little by little lead us away from service to the poor and persecuted. (2) Poverty has sign value: it frees us for work for the kingdom of God which is coming; it pro-claims our faith in divine providence and in the power of Christ to become the center of the evolving world. Our faith in Christ above and within the world is active now and in the future. (3) Poverty frees us for work among persons and proclaims the primacy of the personal, Christian, spiritual over the material. Wealth is power; but poverty affarms faith in another power, a power which is ultimately greater because it influences not mountains or machinery but persons and ideas. Vatican II emphasized the importance of real sign value to poverty, the importance of personal poverty and of corporate poverty. The latter demands real financial sharing on a national and international level as integral to the living of the vow of poverty. The Constitution on the .Church in the Modern World asks that we take up dialogue with the world as it is. With regard to the eco-nomic dimensions, we see that technological society has given us means of great value and importance. Wealth is good, and the assumption---dominant from the origins of man--that poverty and sickness were inevitable and frequent is now questioned by American youth, scien-tists, and polity. The correct direction of this nation's wealth and power would be a greater byproduct of our dedication to poverty than our supercilious contempt of all who possess or study wealth. In short, are we "using" our poverty for people? Poverty not only allows us to be especially dedicated to apostolates, but demands that we employ well time and energy in our areas of work. Poverty can mean em-ploying secretaries, jet travel, electronic media, and so forth in order to reach in a year (or a day) thousands more than Paul or Dominic contacted in a lifetime. On the personal level, poverty can easily be rendered mori-bund by establishing a life where all needs are filled im-mediately within a fully ordered house. Poverty means lack of security but trust in God. Poverty should prepare religious for living in the present era where the models and, concepts of the religious life are being hotly debated and seriously questioned. Poverty and faith are corre-lates; poverty and routine or unchallenged life are con-tradictions. Poverty rejects any defense of the past which turns priories, publications, apostolates, liturgies, and so forth into the displays of a museum. This is espe- cially true in the United States where we have practically no past and where our mentality is future oriented. Very practically, poverty is a commitment to commu-nity life. The American religious wants to know where and who this community is. He takes for granted his right to have some information on how the large amounts sacrificed or earned are being spent. The United States' Church has experienced many cases of poor planning, excessive construction of buildings, un-needed schools and apostolate.s, waste or diffusion of sums of money. The Christian who commits himself to poverty in a community has an obligation to see that that community itself is not sinning against poverty, and clearly superiors must answer not only to God but to the members of the community who freely offer their earnings. The spirituality and life of r~ligious in the area of poverty are not helped but rather frustrated by re-mote, corporate decisions on the expense of money. Can we not expect that a religious who sees money wasted will hesitate to remain within the community or to con-tinue his work and sacrifice? Obedience Thomas Aquinas emphasized the theological impor-tance of God's creation and agents. God acts directly in His world rarely. Similarly, obedience is not just a per-sonal relationship to God, and a superior never fully takes the place of God or Jesus Christ. Obedience is a commitment to God's kingdom revealed to us in Christ as present in a special ecclesial community. Obedience like authority involves community. Americans are raised in the Anglo-Saxon tradition of law. This tradition is often almost in contradiction to certain RoMan and European philosophies of law. The British and American legal mentality looks to a mini-mum of laws and a maximum of obedience; this is allied to equity but does not tend toward dispensation. Clearly the spirit of religious constitutions of the past and the Code of Canon Law stem from another philoso-phy. That is why the Constitution of the United States with 190 years of amendments fills only a few pages, while the laws of the community of "Christian freedom" are numerous. This national difference will influence American reaction to laws, authority, and obedience in the religious life. The purpose of authority is not to rule over the de-tails of the life of children, but to enable their matura-tion and sanctity. Adulthood, participation, and deci-sion- making can and should belong to all the members of a community in a society where political maturity is taken for granted. From the point of view of charisms, Community and Commitment VOLUME 28~ 19~9 54~ T. F. O'.~e~,~'a~ O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 548 the Spirit cannot be relegated to the mind of the supe-rior, nor will educated Christians accept the point of view that the will of the superior is always God's positive (as contrasted with His permissive) will. Education and adulthood render implausible the Neoplatonic idea that the superior informs the inferiors, because he always knows--intellectually or theologically--more than they do. Rather, the superior brings to focus the will of the community when it is holy and reasonable, or solves dilemmas presented by opposing parties. Traditions of democracy, initiative, consensus, and Aquinas' emphasis on nature with grace and secondary causes under God have been obscured by later spiritual theologies. There is a crisis in communities over whether differ-ent points of view exist, or whether bureaucratic con-trol can yield to political maturity. Today's crisis of obedience cannot be solved by more laws, stricter cen-sures, and tighter controls. This will only lead to the sin of forcing schism and apostasy. Mature Christians can-not renounce their own consciences over what seems er-roneous or insignificant. The crisis of obedience shows that a new kind of person is emerging in the Western world. He is quite different from either the Medieval peasant or the European bourgeois. His education, social responsibility, and creative initiative can either be used within the community, or he can be rejected. But he will not choose to live as a non-person, stripped of his own existence and potentiality--for neither common sense nor Christian virtue would suggest that he do so. There is a crisis in the Church today centering in the realization of authority. This is not simply "a crisis of authority." What is at issue is not that authority, even that infallible authority exists, but how it exists. This crisis is of great extent and needs a solutio~frather than a repression. The crisis is stimulated by the ever in-creasing role played by the mass media in Church affairs, by Vatican II's theology of collegiality, and by the transi-tion of the Church from a feudal or immigrant power to a vital stimulus within a pluralistic society. The crisis is particularly acute in the United States due to our lack of roots in the past history of the Church, to the American political mentality, and to the tension arising from past attempts to merge these two. The future should not be allowed to witness a growing division be-tween our standard style of administration on the one hand, and the majority of religious, especially the young, on the other. The New Testament recognizes even within its nor-mative pages a certain pluralism in Church forms. An example of this is found in St. Paul's First Letter to the Corinthians, Chapters Twelve through Fourteen. Different gifts are given to different members of the Church by the same Spirit. Every member of the Church does not have the same function, just as each part of the body does not have the same function. Though these members have different rules, a unity still exists from the members' re-lationship to Christ. There is a diversity in the Church, but it is a diversity which is unified in Christ. All of these gifts are given for the upbuilding of the Church. In this view of the Church given by St. Paul, there is definitely an emphasis on a plurality in Church forms, but a pluralism which is unified in Christ. Yet, the division, isolation, and frustration felt by many religious do exist. Where does it come from? Cen-tral authority often seems to be irrelevant. Why? Perhaps because it offers negative laws post factum rather than leadership before and during the moments of decision. This kind of authority is frustrating to those who have not been consulted and whose circumstances militate against the decision taken; it is irrelevant to many who may with risk choose to prefer real community and effec-tive apostolate to belonging to a long established group. The following three ideas are guidelines by which to measure practical decisions on renewing the concrete realization of government. (1) Charity. Charity is primary. Past constitutions have given the impression that holiness and charity come infallibly from obedience. Experience teaches that this is not true. Love for the community and the in-dividuals in it must have a certain primacy over systems, machinery, and political goals. Love is prior to obedience and is the original cause of obedience. The present crisis will not be solved without a greater emphasis on love for the individual person. (2) Freedom. It is the purpose of neither the vow of obedience nor of government to plan each individual's life and day. There should be an atmosphere freely to be lived in, not a minute horarium to be conformed to. Vatican II's Church in the Modern World begins with man, his dignity, and freedom; religious should not be afraid to follow that example. The purpose of au-thority should be to offer maxrmum help with minimum legislation. (3) Comumunity. Freedom, education, and personal maturity are some of the catalysts for today's crisis in religious community. Until we are accustomed to col-legial decisions at all levels, we will have anguish and potential death in American religious institutes. Three things are involved in the government of a community vis-a-vis the new problems: (1) the struggle for real com-munity life; (2) the necessity to be, without sacrificing heritage or unity, pluralistic; and (3) the desire for the ÷ ÷ ÷ Community and Commitment VOLUME 2BI 1969 549 T. F. O'Meera, REVIEW FOR RELIGZOUS 550 apostolate to correspond to personal needs and exigen-cies of society, and to help form community. It is clear that we do not have all the answers as to how to form this new community life on either the per-sonal or the structural basis. Clearly some things must go and others stay. But we must strive towards what is mentioned immediately above, for they are fundamen-tal to what religious life claims to be. The struggle to-wards this is itself good. Complaints about impending doom and disaster fail in Christian hope. The struggle is evangelical, since the vocation and following that Jesus preached include uncertainty. In the past we created a world where we conquered the future by avoid-ing it, by being static. We must not be afraid of uncer-tainty or risk and even danger in evaluating and living life. Political philospophy tells us that there are two ques-tions in the renewal of political structure: (1) What is your model of person? What kind of people are you deal-ing with? (2) In the light of what is best suited for these persons, who decides and governs? In considering our political structures, have we overlooked the first question? In regard to the second, decision and consul-tation should penetrate into the community as far as they can. This is a principle not only of politics but of a Christian theology of virtue. Today, we do not really have conflict within the de-velopment of representation and pluralism in govern-ment; we have a conflict as to whether pluralism and collegiality should be allowed to exist at all. This con-flict is disastrous, for new forms of realizing authority in religious community can be combated in America only at the price of a Pyrrhic victory, the decline of religious life. How are mature American religious to come to realize that representation and political discussion about the leadership and direction of the order is not evil. The Acts of the Apostles record discussion among the Apostles. For an American, not to question, noi to engage in the realm of political life is to be immature. We must not allow the leaders of men and women religious (who are not on the same theological plane as bishops) to become persons who mix the sacred with the secular like kings of divine right. Some attempt must be made to open more lines of communication, to broaden the base of author-ity, to give the greatest possible representation, to recognize the responsibility of local communities for their lives, to allow for pluralism and even dissent--all within the context of religious obedience to those in of-rice. How this is to be done without weakening authority is a challenging but far from insuperable question. To ~nany [rom other cultures, the entire view may seem bizarre or even dangerous. However, it is a legitimate possibility within ecclesial religious life, and it is the normal and traditional political mentality of Americans. Actually, obedience will grow where love has primacy; zeal will become more intense where consultation (with or without final agreement) has made it feel worthwhile. While commitment to Christian community-apostolate is destroyed by depersonalization and autocracy, it is increased through openness and honesty. Community and Commitment VOLUME 28, 1969 55! ANTHONY D. HECKER, S.J. Attitudes, Unity, and Renewal ÷ ÷ ÷ Anthony Hecker, s.J., writes fa'om Coleran House; 19 Linnaean Street in Cambridge, Massa-chusetts 02138. ' REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS In this age of renewal, both in the Church and in re-ligious orders, I would like to present for your considera-tion my reflections on those factors which could inhibit renewal. I refer to the need of greater communication between the so-called "New Breed" and the consequently so-called "Old Breed." I personally would prefer to ignore all such labels not only because of the divisions which they hint at but also because of the divisive-ness which they foster. I would like to do an in-depth study of the problems which I have observed both in my own order and in other orders with which I have come into some contact. However, because of various and sundry limitations, I must acknowledge that the following is neither a total study nor an in-depth study; rather it is simply my past and present reflections con-cerning these problems, about which 1 have a genuine concern. I present these reflections to you because I think that any attempt toward renewal will become operation-ally successful only insofar as there is unity among the members of the renewing order. At present I think that there is at least some lack of unity and that the source of that lack of unity is in our attitudes toward one another. It could easily be the case that my portrayal of these attitudinal difficulties is at least excessive, at most er-roneous. Nevertheless, by presenting these reflections to you, I hope at least to foster some reflection concerning unity and ways in which it might be improved. First, I would explain that, although I am relatively "young" and am a scholastic, I do not intend to castigate merely the "old" religious. (Indeed, I would hope that nothing that I say is construed, or misconstrued, as castigation of any person or group of persons.) The problems of communication cannot be facilely attributed to any one person or group of persons; we are all re-sponsible to a greater or lesser extent. Second, I would note that the basic problem of communication has its foundation in attitudes--attitudes toward the non-peer groups, especially those attitudes which are founded on implicit, and, hopefully, not recognized, presuppositions concerning the non-peer groups. I also want to state the several presuppositions which will be implicit throughout the rest of this discussion. First, we should not confuse unity with uniformity. For example, the excessive concern with mode of dress (ex-cessive because the concern exceeds that warranted by the subject matter) is more a question of uniformity than unity. External symbols do not foster unity; they can at best point to a unity which may or may not exist. A corollary principle, which I hesitate to state because of the apparent note of castigation contained therein, is that common life does not mean reducing everything to the lowest common denominator. I would willingly and forcefully declare that common life is necessary for unity. When, however, common life is proclaimed as a principle of uniformity, as well as of unity, then not only are the unifying aspects pushed below the horizon but also any further use of common life as a principle of action and decision is viewed by the subject with suspicion and dis-trust, rightly or wrongly. A second presupposition of this discussion is that dif-ferent attitudes or manners of acting should not be so facilely assigned a value parameter. That is, when some-one's attitudes or actions are even radically different from our own, we should not assume that they are wrong; much less should we arbitrarily impute base motives to them. For example, is it not more probable that certain priests and religious prefer not to perform "folk" or "liberal" liturgies because they think that they cannot find God so easily or so fully in such liturgies because of the "distrac-tions" inherent in such liturgies, than it is that their preferences are because they are "old fogies" or "die-hard conservatives"? Conversely, is it not more probable that certain priests and religious prefer to perform "folk" or "liberal" liturgies because they think that they can find God more easily and more fully in such liturgies because those "distractions" actually aid them in lifting themselves up to God, than it is that their preferences are because they are "always seeking new and exciting things"? A preference for uniformity would demand that one or the other view prevail. A preference for unity would allow the recognition that unity is not opposed to diversity. An all-pervasive value orientation would de-mand that one or the other view be declared good or better, and that the other be declared bad or worse. A view that would recognize the worth of a value orienta-tion but would also realize that it is not universally ÷ ÷ ÷ ~/OLLIME 2$, 19~9 A. D. Hecke~;$.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 554~ applicable would allow the recognition that several different, views can prevail simultaneously. There are many ways of approaching God, even within one (Jesuit) general framework. The primary concern of this discussion, then, is to con-sider attitudes of religious toward other religious. I would begin by stating, even categorically, that dogmatism among "liberals" is at least an implicit denial of the very essence of liberalism. A liberal, if he is a true liberal, must accept the conservative on his own--the conserva-tive's- terms; a liberalism that excludes anyone because they have a different viewpoint is, at best, a caricature of liberalism. How then, can liberals castigate conservatives because they are not liberals? Should the true liberal have, and manifest, a desire to proselytize everyone everywhere, to malte everyone liberals whether they want to be or not? To all these questions I must answer, No. Lest my answer be interpreted as a non-liberal attitude toward those "liberals," I would state that my answer is based upon my own reflections concerning what a liberal is. Accordingly, I would ask those "liberals" to help me to understand their view of liberalism and how that view is compatible with their attitudes. On the other hand, I would state, even categorically, that dogmatism among "conservatives" or "traditional-ists" is at least an implicit denial of the very essence of tradition. Dogmatism here leads to fossilization of tradi-tion. Can the true conservative deny that there is any development in our understanding of God and of our relation to Him, indeed that development is inspired by the Spirit? Can the true conservative deny that there are a variety of ways of approaching God, that God can be "all things to all men"? (Would they really limit God in this way?) If they do not allow for the continuous workings o[ the Spirit, are they not left with merely the dead letter of the past? Indeed, is not this continuous and varied working of the Spirit a presupposition of Ignatius in the Spiritual Exercises (Annotations 4, 15, 18), and is it not probable that Ignatius intended these as principles of Christian living as well as principles to be used in the Spiritual Exercises? Can the true conserv-ative demand uniformity of thought--that we all think alike--rather than unity of thought--that we agree on certain common goals and then proceed in our various ways to foster attainment of those goals? Would it be possible for the conservative, and the liberal as well, to accept the distinction between "accepting a view" and "agreeing with a view" (accepting a view as valid despite the fact that it is not a view he can personally agree with)? A second attitude that I would consider is the emo- tional generalizati.on of a response to a particular aspect of another person. This attitude appears to predominate among the younger religious, perhaps only because of my greater contact with them; it might be just as prevalent among older religious. What I mean by this attitudinal problem is that, at least occasionally, a person will ob-serve a limitation in another person (real or imagined) and then proceed to generalize--the person can do noth-ing right. The particular observation becomes generalized into an attack on the person of the person. For example, a student may discover that a particular facultymember has a character fault let us say pride. Rather rapidly the student will become convinced that that person is a poor teacher and/or advisor. I will grant that I have ob-served few religious with this problem, but unfortunately some of these few are quite vociferous. Even were their judgments true, I think it an extreme lapse of charity to commit such character assassination. Unfortunately, also, too many younger religious are not critical enough in evaluating these unsolicited reports. They might hear from a vociferous few that a teacher cannot teach and readily accept it as fact, without even experiencing the teacherl Finally on this problem, too many religious, young and old alike, engage all too frequently in destructive criti-cism. It seems, at times, to be almost a preoccupation, occasionally even descending to a type of "Can you top this?" session. Needless to say, all these manifestations of the same general attitude are destructive of unity, all the more pernicious because it results in a gradual and insidious erosion of unity, unnoticed and unreflected upon. Can we not accept the limitations of each other without bandying them all about? If we must talk about the limitations of another, let us in all charity and honesty talk about them with the person most concerned--the person with the limitation. Let us build one another up in charity rather than tearing one another down, and thus destroying the very fabric of our various orders. The third and final attitudinal area I would concern myself with is that of suspicion and distrust--not al-together unrelated to destructive criticism. What I mean by this is the tendency of too many of us to presume the worst of each other and, accordingly, to impute poor motives. This attitude is, I think, founded on at least two; more fundamental problems: lack of understanding and lack of faith in the good will of others--two problems which closely interact upon each other. Lack of understanding appears to know no boundaries. It is prevalent between younger and older religious, between subjects--regardless of age--and superiors. That ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ A. D. Hecker, $.1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS between subjects and superiors seems to be more heavily influenced by a lack of faith; it will be treated in its proper place. Conversely, the lack of understanding between younger and older religious seems to be prior to, and causative of, the lack of faith. This lack of under-standing is, I think, intimately linked with the problem of unity. Unity is not that sort of thing which can be readily and simply assumed as existing between a group of men or women with common goals; nor can it be fostered and maintained by a total reliance upon sym-bolic acts and customs. Unity is something that has to be worked at in a real way by all the members of a group. Unity demands that all in the group understand one another; and to understand one another requires both work and patience. The urgent, and apparently natural, impulse to be understood seems to force us to give a primacy to this aspect of our interpersonal rela-tions. I wonder if this is not a false assigning of priorities. Could it not be that in order to be understood we must first understand others? Could it not be that in order to express ourselves in a manner that others can under-stand, in order to express ourselves in the thought pat-terns of the others, we must first understand the others? Of course it should also be realized that to simply understand the thoughts or expressions of others does not suffice. This is merely a token or surface understand-ing. To properly understand other persons, at least an attempt must be made to understand the social, emo-tional, psychological, and philosophical tensions and views that influenced those persons during their forma-tive years. For example, do younger religious under-stand, and realize the consequences of, the circumstances in which their elders grew up? (There is the fact that absolutism was not only prevalent in theology but that it also permeated all aspects of life and thought-- Einstein and such thinkers were not public knowledge, and thus not influential on public patterns of thought, until the forties; the social sciences were not influential until the mid-fifties; apologetics was a major concern throughout the entire course of. studies. Now when apologetics is given such an all-pervasive primacy, should it be surprising that the critical faculty 'is highly devel-oped, and that there should be a great concern to preserve and protect all aspects of the Catholic faith--incidentals as well as essentials?) On the other hand, do the older religious understand, and realize the consequences of, the circumstances in which the younger religious grew up? (There is the fact that Einstein's theory was public knowledge, and thus permeated all aspects of life and thought; the social sciences Were in full flowei', and thus the greater concern about freedom and interpersonal relations; Teilhard de Chardin was influential in shaping a new worldview-- readily taught to and accepted, perhaps uncritically, by the younger men.) I do not not mean to imply by all this that the new is better than the old, nor that the old is better than the new. Rather I am attempting to point out the fact that there are in any of the orders today two--at least two--- quite different ways of viewing the world, views that underlie and permeate all aspects of life of the various persons. I reiterate, neither is better, they are just simply different. Accordingly, to understand any thought, view, or opinion of another person, that thought, view, or opinion must be understood in the context of that per-son's way of viewing the world. Of course, there will be the few, with either worldview, who are incapable of understanding the other worldview of the other person; but this does in no way imply that Christian charity is no longer needed. Because we do not understand the other person's point of view, we should not assume that he is wrong, or foolish, or operating with ill will; neither should we ridicule or antagonize him. We should ap-proach those few, then, with the realization that a greater demand may be made upon our charity--they may ridicule or antagonize us but we need not respond in kind--and with a determination that we shall improve our relations with them. These last remarks lead us to a consideration of the lack of faith in the good will of the other person. There seems to be this lack of trust between old and young; but, more importantly, there seems to be some mutual lack of trust between superiors and subjects. Certainly the latter, but I think also the former, implies a limitation in our practical spirituality. What I mean by this is that, while supernatural faith is directed primarily to God, in that very fact it should also be directed toward men. Faith in God includes faith in God's loving kindness and grace-full influence upon men, especially upon men who have committed themselves totally to God. Accordingly, to say that one has faith in God and yet to manifest a radical lack of faith in men totally committed to God involves one, to some extent, in a contradiction. To point out what I have referred to as a limitation in our practical spirituality I would use, by way of ex-ample, our attitude toward what the Jesuits refer to as the "plus-sign." We seem today to disdain the term "plus-sign" and all that it connotes. On those rare occurrences when we do use it we manifest what we think that it means. Too often we apparently mean that we have al-ready judged the other person, thus fostering a negative image of him in ourselves, but that we will give him the ÷ ÷ ÷ Renewal VOLUME 2~ 1969 557 benefit of the doubt and not report him. I submit that the "plus-sign" does not connote this negative attitude but rather one that is quite positive. It is not an act which follows upon judgment but is an act which pre-cedes judgment. It is a humble admission of the fact that too little is known of the other person, especially of his degree of deliberation, to judge him on the basis of a solitary act. It is the suspension of judgment as opposed to rash judgment. I would suggest that this might be what Ignatius was referring to in the Praesupponendum to the Spiritual Exercises. I would also reiterate that it is doubt-ful that Ignatius wrote this to be used solely in the con-text of the Exercises; rather it was intended also as a principle of Christian living. In the light of all this, when we disagree with someone in principle, or concerning policy, should we seek out negative reasons for his position, especially if we do not understand his point of view or frame of reference? When we disagree with superiors in principle, or con-cerning policy, and realize that we cannot effect a change, would it not be more healthy and mature to seek out their reasons for maintaining the present system even while we continue to represent our views? Of course another requirement of our interpersonal relations is patience. Even if superiors were to agree that some changes might be beneficial, time would often be re-quired before they could be effected. Conversely, if changes are effected, how can we be so sure that they are failures after only three or four months of operation, especially if we have had little contact with that area? I would close as I began: emphasizing that these are some of my reflections concerning unity, at least limited, possibly erroneous. It was my intention, and is my hope, that these reflections might be a means of stimulating reflections on the problems of unity and ways in which the present degree of unity might be improved. A. D. Hecker, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 558 EDWARD R. TRUBAC Long-term Financial Planning for Religious Communities Faced* with scarce resources generated by a growing number of apostolates combined with a declining number of vocations, religious communities have increasingly turned to planning in order to allocate these resources in the best way possible. However, present planning has gen-erally been of a short-term nature principally designed to meet the rather immediate needs of the religious com-munity. Many decisions have been made without a clear notion of their long-run financial implications and with-out a careful analysis of alternative proposals. In my talk I would like to begin by discussing some basic principles of planning, then apply these principles to the long-range needs of religious communities, and conclude by tracing some of the financial implications of planning decisions, Basic Principles of Planning In referring to long-range planning, I am not talking about an informal annual get-together in which adminis-trators meet to give their opinions about the course of the future. Neither am I referring to the kind of planning which is initiated because of some kind of crisis, such as a sharp decline in profits for a firm or a sudden increase in instructional expenses for a school. This kind of plan-ning is really not planning at all; in fact, it ilIustrates the costs associated with a lack of planning in which options to act and shape events are restricted as one is forced to react and adapt to a given situation. Long-range planning is a formal, organized process in which a person or group of persons is 'specifically * This is the text of a talk given on February 26, 1969, at the Conference for Religious in Financial Management held at the University of Notre Dame. ÷ ÷ Edward R. Tru-bac is assistant pro-lessor of finance; University of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 2~ 1969 charged with developing a plan of what the organization should look like in five or ten years; the basic purpose of the plan is to mobilize the available resources of the or-ganization in a way that will best achieve its objectives: Firms which have adopted formal plans often seek new ventures through mergers, acquisitions, product line diversifi-cation, or market expansion. They are not satisfied with main-taining the status quo unless they determine, after careful analysis, that this is the best possible course of action. And, in some instances, a company can improve its performance significantly by planning ways to increase the efficiency of cun-ent operations, rather than following the more glamorous but more risky diversification route? To repeat, long-range or strategic planning, to use the more popular term, is essentially concerned with the eval-uation of alternative courses of action (with the stress on the word alternative) in an effort to select the best course of action for the future. And by best course of action, I mean the one that best meets the objectives of the organi-zation. ÷ ÷ ÷ Edward R. Trubac Planning Principles and the Long-Term Needs of Religious Communities This approach is obviously applicable to religious communities as well as to business firms. Like firms, re-ligious communities have in the past few yeais become more actively engaged both in "product line diversifica-tion" and efforts designed to improve the efficiency of current operations. For example, some alternatives that might be grouped within a long-term planning framework for a typical religious community would be: (a) Should the community continue to own and op-erate small hospitals, should only large ones be consid-ered, or should the community relinquish ownership ~ind merely staff hospitals and homes? (b) Is it advisable to continue the two-year college in its present form on the motherhouse campus or should it be discontinued and a house of formation set up near a university campus? (c) Should the community continue in elementary edu-cation, should expansion in secondary schools be consid-ered, or should sisters accept teaching positions in secular institutions? (d) Should a religious community operate only in schools andhospitals, or should many of the members be actively engaged in some of the various types of social work that are open to today's sister? A correct though obviously superficial answer to the REV1EW FOR RELIGIOUS x Harold W. Henry, "Formal Long-range Planning and Corpora-tion Performance," Michigan Business Review, November, 1968, 560 p. above questions would be to do what you think is best. But what is best is again dependent on your objectives. And while you may start with general goals, acceptable guidelines for decision-making must be phrased in con-crete and measurable terms. Here business firms have a decided advantage over non-profit organizations. For while a firm may have as its general objective the opera-tion of a diversified, growing, and profitable worldwide manufacturing business, its specific objective will prob-ably be couched in terms of a specified rate of return on investment; the evidence of the firm's success in meeting this goal can easily be gleaned from its financial report. For the typical religious community, the honor and glory of God and the sanctification of its members would adequately reflect its general objectives, these goals to be specifically achieved through the external works of char-ity of caring for the sick, social work, and the education and training of youth. But while the subobjectives of business firms (for example, a specified rate of return on investment) lend themselves to rather precise measure-ment and, therefore, evaluation, those of religious com-munities do not. First, it is difficult to identify measurable goals in health care, social work, and education, particu-larly Catholic education. And if you cannot specify your objectives in measurable terms, how can you accurately evaluate your operations? This is a problem that most non-profit institutions have in common. Moreover, even if you could express the objectives of each apostolate in meas-urable terms, there would still be the problem of com-paring different units of measurement; in other words, a firm can estimate the expected contribution of each new venture or product in terms of a common denominator-- profit. But how does a religious community, trying to maximize the benefits from its various activities, compare the gains from medical care with the gains from educa-tion when these benefits are expressed in different units of measurement? Finally, religious congregations are faced with the unique problem of structuring a community life that will maximize spiritual development as they al-locate their resources to their various works. Measurable Guidelines for Allocating Resources to the Various Apostolates Because of the difficulties in defining measurable units of output, value judgments will necessarily play a large role in the choice of community works. However, I do think there are some objective guidelines that should not be ignored. First, religious communities are constrained in selecting apostolic works by the specialized nature of their resources, both people and buildings. While people probably constitute the chief constraint, I am familiar ÷ ÷ Financial Planning VOLUME 213, 1969 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS with several cases o~ communities who have experienced difficulties in changing the pattern of their activities be-cause of the problems involved in liquidating their in-vestment in buildings and equipment. Now when I use the term constraint in referring to people, I do not mean to use it in a negative sense. If members of a religious community are competent in and motivated toward, for example, the medical care field, then the community should be in that area (one of the first steps in the planning process should be an inventory of talents and attitudes for the various works). Each apostolate can easily be broken down into several sub-apostolates that are in urgent need of competent and highly motivated people. To take the medical care apos-tolate as an example: (a) Religious communities strong in administrative personnel will continue the traditional pattern of ownership and manage-ment. (h) Some will wish to retain ownership and policy making responsibility but will be unwilling to pr.epare religious for administration. They will utilize religious m direct service to patients and in purely spiritual roles and will be obliged to place administration in the hands of seculars. (c) Others may give only direct care while still others, de-pending on their preferences and training, may engage in home nursing, care for the aged or programs for retarded and handicapped people.* Financial Considerations in the Planning Process Financial considerations must also play a roIe in plan-ning the optimal mix of activities. I would like to see religious communities, in formulating their long-term plans, estimate their expected net financial return on in-vestment in each of the apostolates under consideration; that is, they should calculate the financial costs and bene-fits of each apostolate. I am certainly not suggesting that if a community never expects to cover its expenses from a particular activity that it should drop that work. What I am saying is that it would be very useful to identify the apostolates that are expected to operate at financial losses over the next five to ten years. Because if projections show that certain activities will not generate sufficient income to meet expenses, then a decision to subsidize that apos-tolate will have to be made in the light of projected total financial resources, including income on investments, con-tributions, debt financing, surplus generating apostolates or a combination of all these approaches. I should like to digress for a moment and mention that while the expansion or contraction of investments in the various apostolates should not hinge merely on their ex- ~John J. Flanagan, S.J., "What I~ the Catholic Hospital Apos-tolate?" Hospital Progress, March, 1966, pp. 50-1. pected financial returns, there are other investments, those which are not directly involved in attaining the objec-tives of the order, where financial factors should domi-nate. Here I am including not only financial assets such as stocks and bonds but also such assets as the farm owned by many religious congregations. Apart from special con-siderations, such as the community's sensitivity to charges of its being land rich, the farm should be evaluated solely on the basis of its expected financial rate of return. The evaluation technique would basically first involve deter-mining the current investment in the farm in terms of equipment and building values plus the current market value of the land. One would estimate the net dollar re-turn on the farm for the next five or ten years including as your return both estimated net income from the farm and expected appreciation bf land values. An expected rate of return should then be secured by discounting these future dollar returns to the present; this rate would be compared to the return on alternative investment op-portunities. If the expected rate of return on the farm is less than 5%, the existing rate on time deposits, then one would be well advised on that basis to dispose of the farm. Determining the Costs of Apostolates In calculating the expected net financial return from each apostolate, the first step would be to examine cost experiences in the recent past as a basis for future cost projections; data for the past three to five years should be sufficient for this exercise, although it should be stressed that the usefulness of past data for projection purposes is inversely related to the degree of change experienced by the community in the recent past. Securing this infor-mation may well present some problems since the stand-ard chart of accounts used by many religious communi-ties is not structured around the various apostolates. There are usually separate accounts for the generalate, provincialate, and local houses; in addition, expenses are usually categorize.d along input (salaries, travel expenses, supplies, and so forth) and institutional (junior .college on the motherhouse campus) lines rather than focusing on the various outputs (medical care, educational work, social work) of the community. The junior college prob-ably serves more than one apostolate and these educa-tional costs should be allocated to the various works of + the community. In the same vein, the category travel ex- + penses will also include costs associated with a variety of ~" apostolates. In addition, an attempt should be made, where possible, to allocate administrative expenses among .1~i.na~.ia't P!anning the different works of the community. I am not advocat-ing a wholesale overhaul of the accounting systems, of VOLUME aa, ~96~, religious communities. I am merely suggesting a supple- 563 REV]EW FOR RELIGIOUS mental technique designed specifically for long-term plan-ning purposes that will facilitate the cost projections for each of the various apostolates. In ferreting out all costs, the focus should primarily be on the educational, administrative, maintenance, and re-tirement costs associated with placing and sustaining peo-ple in the various apostolates; per capita expenses in each of these categories for each of the apostolates should be derived, summed, and projected into the future; this re-suiting figure should then be multiplied by the estimated number of people in each of the community's activities in order to secure a total estimated cost figure for each apos-tolate. Capital expenditures on building and equipment directly associated with the works of the community (par-ticularly hospitals and colleges as a result of the contin-uing trend toward separate ificorporation and ownership) should ordinarily not be treated as an expense to the com-munity although there are certainly numerous cases where, for example, debt service requirements generated by building programs could not be met by the school or hospital and constituted a severe financial drain on the religious community. One of the great advantages of identifying costs, for ex-ample, the costs of educating sisters, is that it permits one to price and compare alternative approaches to supply-ing the same or approximately the same type of educa-tion. Although I will readily admit that considerations other than financial are extremely important and even overriding in certain situations, still the right kind of fi-nancial information will at least permit a comparison of the costs of sending a person to be educated at the junior college for sisters on the motherhouse campus with the cost of education at a university. The question of which costs less will require careful analysis but the cost differ-ential will probably not be as great as might be deter-mined from examining the accounting records of many religious communities; that is, the cost may not be ap-preciably less to send a person to junior college and may, in fact, be more expensive. One of the hidden costs I am alluding to is the failure of many religious communities to fully account for the contributed services of the mem-bers of the order who are teaching in these colleges. By contributed services, I mean in this case the salary that a member of the religious community could have earned teaching at a university minus her maintenance costs at the motherhouse that are met by the community. For ex-ample, if the subsistence needs of a religious teaching at a junior college for sisters are valued at $2,000 a year while she could have earned $10,000 annually teaching at a university, then the contributed services would total $8,000. A recent survey by one of the graduates of our program in institutional administration indicated that only 50% of the junior colleges surveyed included con-tributed services in their budget as an expense to be met by the community. This omission gives a very distorted picture of the true costs of operating junior colleges. A less hidden but perhaps more controversial cost is that of depreciation. The traditional argument against non-profit institutions depreciating their capital assets is that the needed funds are not generated from operating income as with a business firm, but are commonly ob-tained through fund-raising campaigns. I feel, however, that all costs should be identified, regardless of how they are met. Moreover, communities may find donations to be a very undependable source of funds in the future. As a further point, most hospitals depreciate their capital as-sets. This policy on the part of hospitals of accounting for depreciation has been given added stimulus by third party payments which explicitly recognize depreciation as a reimbursable cost (for example, Medicare). As these third party payments become more widespread in the area of education, accounting for depreciation expenses will correspondingly grow in popularity. Again, it should be emphasized that identifying the education costs of sisters prods administrators to trace out alternative cost patterns. Another possibility, for ex-ample, is the growing practice of affiliate membership in which the person finances her own college education if at all possible, but maintains regular contacts with the con-gregation. This policy, of course, would be the least ex-pensive (it would also meet the problem of people leav-ing the community after being educated but before earning any return for the community); but the issue of the impact on vocations would certainly have to be care-fully explored. A similar analysis should be applied to maintenance, administrative, and retirement costs. Past cost data allo-cated among the various apostolates should be secured as a basis for projecting total costs in the future. The pro-jected cost of current procedures should then be com-pared with cost projections of alternative ways of meeting these needs. Projecting Net Financial Returns from Each of the Apostolates After the cost information has been properly processed, the last step in this exercise would require the projection of net financial returns for each of the various apostolates. These financial returns vary widely, depending on the particular activity. It should come as no surprise that the financial returns to religious communities are particu-larly meager from the Catholic secondary and elementary ÷ ÷ + Finandal Planning VOLUME 28, 1969 REVIEI/V FOR RELIGIOUS school apostolates. For religious teaching in colleges and universities and especially for those working in the medi-cal care area where contributed services are considered as reimbursable costs, the financial returns are competitive with those received by lay people with similar qualifica-tions and experience. But the salary and fringe benefits received by the typical sister teaching in a Catholic ele-mentary school (and this is irrespective of whether the school is community or diocesan owned) falls far short of even meeting the expenses incurred by the community in placing the sister in that position. The most detailed in-formation concerning this issue has been derived from Father Ernest Bartell's study on the financing of Catholic education. The data go back to 1963-64, but they serve their illustrative purpose. They show that the per capita contributed services of religious teaching in two dioceses averaged $5425 in one diocese and $3572 in the other.3 Contributed services are specifically defined as the salary that could have been earned by the religious teaching in the public school minus all recorded parish expenditures on behalf of the religious teachers, including cash sal-aries, gifts, and convent maintenance. In addition, a rental charge imputed on the parish investment in con-vent living facilities should be deducted; this charge would be equivalent to the earnings foregone by the parish on a comparable commercial investment. In his study Father Bartell also estimated that if one religious order teaching in one of the dioceses were just to break even and recoup its educational and retirement investment in its members, then it would have had to re-ceive $1057 yearly from each of its teachers over an aver-age working life of 40 years, even assuming that these payments could be invested at 5% during the lifetime of the religious teacher.4 Since the members of this order annually remitted, after current expenses, only $360 each back to the motherhouse, the $700 difference might be looked upon as a subsidy paid by the religious commu-nity to the diocese. Now, I am not going to strongly argue for or against this particular subsidy although I do believe that alter-native ways of reducing it should be carefully examined. One way might be to negotiate with diocesan authorities for salary increases. Another possible approach might be state aid where the contributed services of the sister would perhaps be recognized as a reimbursable cost, as in the medical care field. Or the community might simply 8 Ernest J. Bartell, C.S.C., "Efficiency, Equity and the Economics of Catholic Schools," Catholic Education Today and Tomorrow: Proceedings of the Washington Symposium on Catholic Education, 1968, pp. 12-3. *Ibid., p. decide that its estimated total financial resources will be sufficient to subsidize this apostolate. Conclusion In conclusion, I would like to see a statement along the following hypothetical lines included in the formal plan of each religious community. In deciding on the op-timum amount of resources to be devoted to apostolate A, B, C, and D, we have considered alternative ways of meeting the expenses associated with each activity and have chosen the best alternative for each. Next, in esti-mating the net financial benefits [or each of the aposto-lates over the next five to ten years, we project that activ-ity A will run a large deficit. But despite this expected deficit, we wish to keep our commitment to this aposto-late and estimate that apostolates B, C, and D will gener-ate a surplus of a sufficient size which when combined with income on investments and expected donations will meet the deficit in A. I strongly feel that this type of approach will add a more realistic dimension to community planning. Finandal Planning VOLUME 28, 1969 567 LOUIS TOMAINO Religious Community and the Johari W ndow ÷ ÷ Louis Tomaino is the associate di-rector of Worden School of Social Service; Our Lady of the Lake Col-lege; San Antonio, Texas 78207. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 568 The building of effective human community is gen-erally regarded as one of the most critical issues facing religious orders now and in the near future. Such community spirit is essentially a group phenomenon and it may be that certain findings in group dynamics are very relevant to religious communities. In this paper we are concerned mainly with communities of women. In evaluating the kinds of relationships present in human community, a conceptual model designed by Joe Luft and Harry Ingham for use in the National Train-ing Laboratories seems particularly helpful. It is called the Johari Window.1 This model, although not prepared specifically for religious, states that the sister by her actions and words in the community, projects a kind of "window" of herself which is viewed by others. Other members of the community likewise project similar windows and the sum total of these projections is a powerful dynamic which fashions group relationships in that community. The Johari Window represents four kinds of informa-tion which governs the flow of relationships among community members involved. This includes: A. Things the sister knows about herself and the community and about her feelings about others. B. Things the sister does not know about herself and the community and about her relationships with others. C. Things others in the community know about the sister and the community. D. Things others do not know about sister and the community and about the relationships therein. By "things" we mean sisters' thoughts, impulses, desires, fears, fantasies, prejudices, hopes, dreams and goals. Thus, sister's Johari might look like this: a Joseph Luft, "Johari's Window," Human Relations Training News, v. 5 (1961), p. 6. Things known by others Things unknown by others Things known by sister THE ARENA (open area of the re-lationship) THE FACADE (are~ of hidden de-fenses) Things unknown by sister THE BLIND SPOT (realities not recog-nized) THE UNKNOWN (unexplored reali-ties) 1. The Arena--This is that part of the relationship which is open: ". the cards are on the table." This refers to that part of sister that is completely honest because she faces community issues in the open. When group issues or problems are known and faced by all members openly, we say that these things are in the arena. 2. The Blind Spot This area comprises those thoughts, feelings, and so forth which sister has, but of which she is not aware. However, others in the com-munity do see these things in her because her actions and words make them visible. For example, the sister with definite authoritarian leanings may not recognize this tendency in her interactions with others, but others see itl 3. The Facade--This area consists of feelings, moti-vations, and so forth which sister has, but keeps hidden for whatever reason, oftentimes because she may con-sider their revelation as inappropriate. Therefore, while she knows these things about herself, other community members are not able to perceive them. 4. The Unknown--This includes those aspects of sister's group relations which are unexplored, latent, unconscious, and simply not known. The goal in building community is to make the Arena as large as possible so that conditions for com-munication are improved through openness, free inter-change and productive action. Everything we have said so far about sister can truly be said about community. Realistically, the obstacles to developing real com-munity cannot be dealt with until they are known. These hurdles cannot even be accurately identified until sister and the community develop an open arena where issues can be placed. Therefore, how does one go about establishing a large arena? Let's consider two processes termed exposure and feedback and how they may be utilized to alter sister's Johari. If she really opens up with other sisters, if she + lohari Win¢lo~ is not too insecure to discuss her own doubts and questions, sister will be revealing something of her-self. This is exposure. She will humanize herself by demonstrating that she too is subject to many of the hazards faced by others. Whitaker2 refers to four kinds of openness. Verbal openness, or the process of using direct words to express to another exactly what we mean. ,4ffective openness or the sharing with others our personal experience of boredom, depression, anger, warmth, fantasy, and physical contact. Physiologic open-ness as shown through expressing a blush, hunger, or a headache. No purpose openness is the occasional idle hour, the no-point-in-it encounter, where people are "just there" with no visible goals in mind. To do this comfortably requires real open-endedness. In performing these kinds of things the sister shows part of herself and neutralizes some of her facade. The horizontal line of the Johari is moved downward, thereby enlarging the arena, eliminating some facade and mak-ing the unknown area smaller. Feedback means simply a way of securing some knowl-edge about ourselves as individuals and as community members. It is indispensable to establishing lines of communication and to changing ourselves. This idea urges that the sister create opportunities whereby others may give her feedback on herself. This feedback might tell her things about herself which she did not previously know and thereby elimi-nate some blind spot. The perpendicular line of the Johari" is moved laterally which makes the arena larger, the blind spot smaller, and the unknown is further diminished. If the Sister desires and secures both feedback and exposure, her Johari would look like this: Feedback REVIEW'FOR RELIGIOUS ~ Carl Whitaker, M.D., "Open Communication from the Psycho. therapist," Existential Psychiatry, Spring, 1966, pp. 55-8. The large arena suggests that something is really happening in the life of this sister. Blind spots (I didn't realize you thought I didn't like you) are clarified. The unknown is decreased (I'm glad we both know how we feel on this point), and energies previously used to maintain facades are now diverted to more constructive purposes. The possibilities for communica-tion and change are vastly enhanced with things now put into the arena where they can be managed. We are suggesting, in effect, that those religious groups characterized by large arenas have created conditions favorable to building effective community. The sum of individual Johari's in the group tends to promote a general or average Johari for the whole community. The larger the arena, the greater the chance for ef-fective community. The question might indeed he raised: Of what value to community life are blind spots, facades, or unknowns? Some other, and extreme, windows sometimes seen in both individuals and communities are as follows: The large unknown tells that this sister desires neither feedback nor exposure. She is strictly official and operates by "the rule." Other sis-ters never get to know her. In this situation the sister is willing to expose, hence the small facade. She tolerates no feedback from others in the community and thereby does not know what others think of her. This sister constantly seeks feed-back from others but is not willing to put herself "on the line" with others. Hence the large facade. Too much facade breeds conditions for mistrust. Needless to say, the climates generated by such win-dows are not conducive to developing the kinds of + atmospheres associated with productive community life. + ÷ Some Findings about Sisters Jay Hall and Martha Williams developed a Personnel Relations Survey~ inventory of 60 items which, when s Jay Hall and Martha Williams, Personnel Relatio~ Survey, ~ohari Window VOLUME 28, 1969 571 taken by individuals, projects for them a personal Johari Window profile. Group profiles can also be averaged out on this test. In the past year this writer has administered the Johari Test to approximately 600 sisters from various congregations as part of Group Dynamics Workshops. Using a total sample of 500 sisters we are able to secure interesting data on the kinds of windows projected by sisters. Hall and Williams constructed their questionnaire in such a way that it yields a Johari for the respondent relative to his subordinates, to his colleagues, and to his superiors. It also illustrates an "average" Johari for each respondent. The generalizations about sisters which can be made from the 500 taking the test are these: 1. Sisters tend to be slightly more open than other groups tested in workshop (ex-school teachers, social workers, policemen). Given the goals and values of religious group life, however, the sisters do not appear to be significantly more open than other less cohesive groups. 2. Sisters tend to be less open with their superiors than with subordinates or colleagues. This may be a product more of unapproachable superiors than of reti-cent sisters. Sisters revealed greater facade with su-periors than with the other two groups. 3. Arenas were larger with colleagues than with the other two groups. 4. Sisters seem to be more concerned with feedback than with exposure which seems to be typical of most groups. Out of a possible high score of 50 the sisters tallied an average score of 35 for feedback and 29 for exposure. In summary the general relationship tendencies of the 500 sisters appeared as shown on following page. Looking at the type of window projected by sisters suggests information which may be helpful in develop-ing greater openness among sisters, hence more effective community. The survey shows that sisters tend to be less open with superiors than with the two other groups. How can openness be achieved in this area? Many modern theo-logians stress the fact that religious obedience can be thought of as a shared responsibility. The Holy Spirit speaks through the entire community and not only through the superior. It seems, therefore, the re-sponsibility of each individual sister to contribute to REVIEW FOR RELI$10U$ unpublished training inventory, Southwest Center for Law and the 572 Behavioral Sciences, University of Texas at Austin, 1965. E u r e 5 10 15 20 '25 30 35 45 50 5 Feedback ) 20 25 30 35 40 45 50 community development by sharing her ideas, sugges-tions, and other Johari "things" with others. If the spirit works through each person, how can the commu-nity know the will of God if each is not willing to share? In making decisions which affect the community each sister assumes a great responsibility. It has been found that decisions reached via consensus tend to be more accurate than individual or minority decisions. Consensual thinking in the community can be gained through open discussion, sharing, and listening on the part of each community member. Although arriving at such decisions in community meetings may be time consuming, their very importance suggests that the group might well afford the time involved. Creating an atmos-phere of openness requires conscious work over months or even years. Thus, we seem to be saying that human community can be nurtured by development of a large arena through the conscious use of both openness and feed-back. The documents of Vatican II, especially the Church in the Modern World, lend eloquent support to this idea as seen in the following statements: h¯f eT wheh epnr itmheit mivue lCtithuudrec hof. pbreohveivdeerds ,w aenr ee xoaf monpele h oefa rct oamndm ounneity mind, and found nourishment in the teaching of the gospel and in the sacred liturgy, especially the Eucharist. Let such a life continue in prayerfulness and a sharing of the same spirit. As Christ's members living fraternally together, let + ÷ lohari Window VOLUME 28, 1969 573 them excel one another in showing respect and let each carry the other's burdens. For thanks to God's love poured into hearts by the Holy Spirit, a religious community is a true fam-ily gathered together in the Lord's name and rejoicing in His presence . In fact, brotherly unity shows that Christ has come; and from it results great apostolic influence (Decree on the Appropriate Renewal o[ the Religious Li[e, n. 15). Thus it is evident to everyone that all the faithful of Christ of whatever rank or status are called to the fullness of the Christian life and to the perfection of charity. By this holi-ness a more human way of life is promoted even in this earthly society (Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, n. 40, par. 3). The People of God and the human race in whose midst it lives render service to each other. Thus the mission of the Church will show its religious, and by that very fact, its su-premely human character (The Church in the Modern World, n. 11). Let .chapters and councils faithfully acquit themselves of the govermng role given to them; each should express in its own way the fact that all members of the community have a share in the welfare of the whole community and a responsibility for it (Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life, n. 14). Christ arouses not only a desire for the age to come, but by that very fact, He animates, purifies and strengthens those noble longings too by which the human family strives to make its life more human (The Church in the Modern World, n. 38, par. 3). Through her individual members and her whole commu-nity, the Church believes she can contribute greatly toward making the family of man and its history, more human (The Church in Modern World, n. 40, par. 5). ÷ ÷ Louis Tomaino REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 574 JOSEPH F. ROCCASALVO, S.J. The Presence of Christ in Christian Community The presence of Christ in the Christian community is a fascinating topic, but one that is not easy to treat in a free and familiar style. This is so, because we face a difficult and important question: how can we adequately recognize this presence in our experience. In reading any answer, no matter how well formulated, we must avoid the mistake of expecting too much. The bodily Christ is hidden from our view. Unlike the Apostles who walked with Him in Jerusalem or stood close by when He preached from the waters of Galilee, His visible counte-nance cannot now be seen, touched, or handled. It is not that we feel He hides Himself capriciously; yet there are times when we are overwhelmed by our desire to see Him, without resorting to any writer's conception or artist's portrait. We are tempted to cry out: "Christ, come forthI Let Your loyal followers look upon You. Draw the screen that conceals Your presence from our hu-man eyes." But despite our pleas there is no physical ap-pearance, and we would not dare to hope for one. In addressing myself to the preceding difficulty, I shall formulate my answer through an indirect use of con-cepts. By this I mean that such concepts will try to illumine for the reader the experience they point to, without intending to adequate it entirely. Since we are dealing with the most personal dimension of Christianity, our faith or commitment to a Person, its ultimate signifi-cance must lie beyond the frontier of language in the do-main of mystery. Yet granting this radical incommuni-cability in the final analysis, one may use concepts as long as it is remembered that they are open to the term towards which they aspire. The reader, then, must be like one who contemplates an horizon. Beyond the outline of words he seeks perspectives which he can barely discern but which draw him precisely because of the mystery he + Joseph A. Roc-casalvo, s.J., is a member of Wood-stock College in Woodstock, Mary-land 21163. VOLUME 28, 1969 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Roccasa~o, $.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS senses in them. The formulation is of value, not only for what it says, but also for what it may suggest. As a point of departure for this analysis, we must start with our experience. In assigning content to this word we take. it to mean the whole range o~ the self's active relationship with the other, or the entire range of reality as disclosed to me and to which I respond. But this is my experience: it is the real as disclosed to one who is a Christian, committed to the Church and the faith of the Church. Since faith is part of my experience, part of the real as disclosed to me, it must necessarily be a Christian experience, including all that the life of faith includes. Here it must be recalled that my faith is first and foremost a commitment to a Person who has invited me to share a life in which He Himself will be my ful-fillment. In other words, my faith is a total response of mind and heart to Christ who has entered my world and lived His li~e in our midst. What, then, is the purpose of a Christian who reflects upon his experience to which his faith is interior? Since my personal relationship with Christ is a lived conviction, an intimate part of the reality that discloses itself to me, I shall try in my reflection to spell out the implications of this total commitment. I undertake this task because I am compelled by my freedom to take a personal stand towards my life and to be fully responsible for that stand. I must use the reasoned reflection of the philo-sophical method to avoid doing this naively. In brief, I shall try to discern by analysis how my personal commit-ment to Christ makes Him present to me, not in terms of revelation or the magisterium of the Church, but as dis-closed in my lived experience. This reflection, then, will help make me a more responsible and responsive Chris-tian. As I have indicated, the faith which is interior to my lived experience is fundamentally a personal commit-ment of mind and heart to the Person of Clu-ist. He has spoken to me in time, using words which He has in-tended for all men. Included within these words is the promise of continued presence, in spite of visible ab-sence: "Where two or more are gathered in my name, I am in the midst"; or, "If anyone will love me. I will mani-fest myself to him." Still again He tells us: "I am with you all days, even to the consummation of the world." While I cannot expect that His presence will be manifest by some physical appearance, I may rightly expect, through trust in His personal promise, some kind of experimental awareness of His presence in and through the gathered Christian community. Our inquiry can be placed in the form of a thesis statement: whether or not there is a special presence of Christ, experienced within the Chris- tian community. If there is, how can it be described phenomenologically, and what are the requisites for this partictalar theophany? Our question can be restated more dynamically: when I experience my witness to this Person in communion with other Christians, how does He "draw nigh"? Is His presence a diffused, unthematized one, con-comitant with the consciousness of the Christian com-munity; and if this is so, how may it be thematized upon reflection? This analysis, of course, does not necessarily exclude His coming-to-presence in other ways. Before we can discover what is the special character of Christ's presence in the witnessing Christian community, we must first analyse the meaning of this rather elusive word. ~Nhat does it mean to have someone or something present? The dictionary tells us. that the word is used in at least two distinct senses: first, it can mean physical presence, namely, that which is or stands before one, in view or at hand; that which is spatially located in this place and not elsewhere. Second, the word may have a temporal significance, referring to contemporaneous pres-ence, or that which is not past or future, but is operative in the time that is now. It is precisely in these two senses of physical and contemporaneous presence that phe-nomenologists like Luijpen have described man's terres-trial life as an intentional existence in and towards the world through knowledge and love. Through knowledge the world is physically and con-temporaneously present to my consciousness as I am to it, for to know is simply to exist as present with the world. Therefore, it is through this co-presence of knowledge that the world begins to disclose itself and be for a man. ~,Vithin this disclosure the meaning of the world refers itself to other human presences, so that as I live I realize that the world presents itself, not merely for me, but for the other also. The world is present to us both, one we mutually encounter. My presence in the world is emi-nently co-presence. Gradually I begin to realize that the presence to me of persons is radically different from things. While the latter are unaware of me, in fact, are indifferent to my stature as a man, my presential awareness of persons tells me that they may take my presence uniquely into account, re-sponding warmly to my whole world of needs, concerns, and achievements. I have given the other access to myself in a way that is beyond the power of things. Of course, the responsiveness of the other to me is subject to degrees of encounter. For instance, I can meet someone with cordiality, shake hands with him, and sit down to dinner and conversation. On the other hand, I can speak to the same person on the telephone, or merely notice him on the opposite side of the street without speaking to him at The Pr,~ence o~ Christ 4, ÷ Joseph F. l~occo~a~vo, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS all. Our mutual presence to one another can remain on a distant, functional level, or it can open itself to more pro-found degrees of responsiveness. Through love my reply to the other's presence is a reply to his unique personhood. He has become for me a cen-ter of new meaning, so that whenever he comes within the range of my presence, I experience an appeal to con-sent to his, to accept it, to support and share it. He now becomes a presence which I cherish, someone who stands lovingly before me when he is visibly in view. Even when he is physically absent, his unique subjectivity grows into an atmosphere which encompasses me and abides, despite the most engrossing tasks. This is what is meant by being-loved. The other's loving presence makes my personal life be more fully and by his affection, aids and favors it. I no longer face the future as an isolated self-presence, and this alone is perhaps the most profound witness of love's contemporaneity: it has created a "we" that brings plenitude and happiness. Having seen from the preceding analysis how the per-son is present, to me through knowledge and love, we can now pass on to the next step in our analysis of Christ's communal presence. Since the Christian community is fundamentally made up of persons who confess a com-mitment to this Person as interior to their, experience, for the sake of ordered procedure we shall first describe the growth of the individual person's unique response to Christ, and then inquire what role the community played in its development. Someone may object, however, that description of such an affective relationship with Him is difficult, if not impossible, because as subject of my love, He does not come within the scope of the senses. This objection would be valid, were His visible presence abso-lutely necessary to sustain such a relationship. But as we shall see, bodily absence does not a priori exclude a personal confrontation with Him. Since "He was made in all things like unto man, sin alone excepted," or, in other words since He is wholly man, my loving commit-ment to Him will follow an interpersonal pattern. He will not let me doubt His intimate friendship with me, nor will He let me think that He is far removed to another sphere or order of creation. We are both persons, and to ascertain the degrees of encounter with one another is to see applied the formulations derived, from the phe-nomenology of love. Let us look back, for a moment, and see how presential knowledge of Him blossomed into the presence of love. As a Christian who steps back and reflects upon the history of his love for Christ, I discover that initially my contact with Him was a certain mild acquaintance, mostly derived through insertion in the world of other Christians. Through dialogue this man was seen as a source and center of activity, a Person of boundless understanding, tender heart, and constancy in action. There was a certain generous and uplifting quality about Him, which made Him both admirable and attractive. The personal dynamism of this man was present to me as something known, though somehow memorable. He was contemporaneously present to my life via the intentional-ity of knowledge. Gradually the knowledge of this man becomes in-teriorized and the remoteness of history vanishes. He is no longer a figure of the past, nor His life a fact of some past history, preserved through a lasting record. His words have a vitality which make them come alive for me, while those of other men are dead, or living only in books and monuments left behind. This man's words are timeless, and as they have beckoned to all men of all ages, they beckon to me now and call for my response: "I am the way and the truth and the light"; and again, "Come to me all you who are burdened and I will refresh you." The sheer radiance of.this man becomes indispensable in my eyes and wakens me to a new life. Admittedly His presence is not a bodily one, but in some ineffable way, His spirit is operative and quickens me now, so that He is contemporaneous with my life. His appeal to come and follow Him, to accept, support, and share His subjec-tivity is one to which I utter an uncompromising yes. I commit myself to this Person, adopt His name, and set Him up for my ideal. He is now not merely one whom I respect at a distance, but one for whom I care. I plan my destiny not alone, but with Him, for He is more to me than some unblemished truth or way of enlightenment. My whole being is seized by the desire to let Him be as He declared Himself: my very God. He is now the center of my experience, my faith, and what formerly existed as an object known in the knower, is now replaced by one who is cherished as a beloved is in a most intimate friend. This sense of togetherness between Christ and myself does not involve His bodily presence, to be sure. But it is not absolutely necessary that there be such a nearness to sustain our love. In order for two people to continue loving one another, it is not requisite that each be visibly on hand for the other. In fact, in the separation of two people in love, their affective response is still a con-temporaneous experience of a lasting bond. Their mu-tual love, despite distance, remains as a tonality, as an abiding atmosphere that permeates each other no matter what the task. How often have we heard it said: "I do not forget you; you are always in my thoughts." We do not reflect on the deep reality that lies beneath these words. We do not understand, or rather, realize, that when two ÷ ÷ The Presence Christ VOLUME 28, 1969 ,579 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph F. Roccasalvo, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 580 persons are united in love, they do not need to lie visibly side by side like two bodies. They are already in each other. This is the principle of all love union, and in particular, of the intimate friendship which is that union's highest form. So it is with myself and Christ to whom I have committed my life. Indeed I look forward hopefully (as anyone who has loved) to the time when we may be reunited in a face to face encounter. But for the extent of my waking life, this Person shall remain an abiding presence for me, operative within the center of my experience. At this point in our analysis, someone might offer the following conscientious objection: how was it possible to have achieved such a loving relationship with Christ, let alone sustain His contemporaneous presence, when one never had the occasion to confront Him in person? Is it not necessary to "ground," in some way, my power to respond? It is here that one must analyse the delicate role of the Christian community in aiding the growth of my personal commitment to Christ. Since I have discovered Him as the personal center of my life, He has also been disclosed as that center to which the common-unity of Christians offer their affirmation of love. Therefore, my commitment to this Person is not an insulated one. In fact, His presence as a presence-to-be. responded to in love would not have been possible if, anterior to my coming, there had not been a community that already celebrated their loving relationship to Him. This community was a "formative milieu," into which I was inserted and which allowed for this growth and re-sponsiveness in love. Therefore, just as I can only grasp myself as a person through the communal presence of other persons who appeal to me for a unique reply, so also I can only grow in a loving, presential awareness of Him insofar as He is disclosed in and through the Christian community. We will better see the roIe of the community as the place of His presence by seeking to un-derstand what transpires within its interior. In the community of Christians, the Person of Christ is the link which binds us, one to the other. This is so, because He is the point of agreement

Part one of an interview with Mrs. Charles Laserte of Leominster, Massachusetts. Topics include: She was born in Manchester, New Hampshire. How her parents came to the U.S., met and were married. How she moved from Manchester, NH to Leominster, MA. How she met her husband. The work she did on the city council. The social clubs she belonged to. The Franco-American community in Leominster. Her husband's family history and his work as a doctor. Her work on the school committee. Women in politics. Mrs. Laserte was the first woman on the school board and the city council. ; 1 SPEAKER 1: Mrs. Laserte, where are you from? Where were you born? MRS. LASERTE: I was born in Manchester, New Hampshire. SPEAKER 1: Uh, is that where your parents are from also? MRS. LASERTE: And I lived -- yes. Well, my parents had lived in Manchester, New Hampshire. My father came to Manchester in the 1870s, and my mother came in the 1880s, about a year or so before I was born. And, uh, she was a bride shortly after she came here. She, um, came over not with the intention of getting married but with the intention of living here because her brother was living in Manchester. SPEAKER 1: I see. Why did she -- uh, besides the fact that her brother was living in Manchester, did she have any other reasons to come to Manchester? MRS. LASERTE: Yes, she did. Of course, she was born in, uh, 1863, before the war of 1870 in Alsace. And she did, did receive a German certificate and then went to Paris to a school where they trained them for specific careers. It was run by two cousins in Paris. Uh, she became a telegrapher for the railroads and did not like the job. Then she was a governess and didn't care too much for the job. So she thought she would come to this country, perhaps to do something she would prefer. SPEAKER 1: I see. And she ended up with her brother in Manchester. And what did she do in Manchester? MRS. LASERTE: Well, in Manchester, she did not do a great deal because, uh, soon after she came here, he proposed and they decided to get married. Uh, they came over, interestingly enough, in 1886, when the Statue of Liberty was, uh, uh, shall I say accepted? And they were there when the ceremonies were going on. So my mother came over… SPEAKER 1: With the statue. MRS. LASERTE: … with the statue, you might say. SPEAKER 1: [Laughter] 2 MRS. LASERTE: [Laughter] SPEAKER 1: [Laughter] And your dad, was he always from Manchester, or…? MRS. LASERTE: No. He was born in Canada, at [la Baie-du-Febvre], which is a small town in Nicolet. And he went to Nicolet College and got a job as a grocer boy in Drummondville, where incidentally, he met my husband's father. And then he came to Manchester and worked as a grocery man and eventually had quite a large store in wholesale as well as retail. SPEAKER 1: And maybe at this point, I should ask you your maiden name so we know who your father is. MRS. LASERTE: Well, my maiden name used to be a problem for people of English speech. The name is Grenier. And of course, Grenier Field is named after Grenier, but that is a very distant cousin, very distant cousin who was killed when he was working for the government to deliver mail. SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: He was in an airplane when he died. SPEAKER 1: So now, you have one parent that came from France and one that came from Canada, and they were married in Manchester. MRS. LASERTE: Right. SPEAKER 1: And apparently, they lived most of their lives in Manchester. MRS. LASERTE: That's right. SPEAKER 1: And you are the one that left the family home to come to Leominster. MRS. LASERTE: That's right. SPEAKER 1: Was that a direct move from Manchester to Leominster? MRS. LASERTE: Oh, no. I went to Wellesley College and graduated from there, and then I taught school in Wellesley High School and Newton High School before I was married. SPEAKER 1: Oh, I see. MRS. LASERTE: Then I came to Leominster. 3 SPEAKER 1: Then you came to Leominster. And at that… I'm sorry. MRS. LASERTE: And my husband was taking courses at Harvard and in the hospitals when I met him. SPEAKER 1: Oh, you met your husband at Harvard… or at a hospital, anyhow, while you were there. MRS. LASERTE: Well, through there, because he stopped on the way, so to speak. SPEAKER 1: [Laughter] And then you came to Leominster after you were married? MRS. LASERTE: Right. SPEAKER 1: I see. Now, you had one child. Is that correct? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Right. And from there, I noticed some time back from an article in the paper that you were active in the city council. When did you first become an elected member of the city council? MRS. LASERTE: Well, before I was on the city council, I was on the school committee. SPEAKER 1: Oh, you were on the school committee first. MRS. LASERTE: First. SPEAKER 1: Right. MRS. LASERTE: I was on the school committee when my son was in the high chair, so to speak, because I thought the schools might possibly be improved because of my experience in Wellesley and Newton. And I have served on the school committee for about 23 years. When my son became interested in teaching here, I thought it was time to get out. SPEAKER 1: [Laughter] MRS. LASERTE: So I got out. [Laughter] SPEAKER 1: Oh, I see. You left the school committee about the time that your son came into the Leominster School District. MRS. LASERTE: Yes, I finished up my term, but I was not a candidate again, naturally. So then I became interested in the council. I had a grief 4 against the council because they were not in favor of building the Northwest School. I had had a struggle to get the Gallagher Junior High and was on the publicity for that, and also on the building committee so that I was very much interested in having Northwest School. So I was on that building committee. But I always found that the council was a little bit stingy for the schools. So I thought I might be interested in being on the council. SPEAKER 1: If I had more time, I'd be interested in getting contemporary opinion, but I won't at this point. [Laughter] MRS. LASERTE: Well, I ran in '49 when Mr. Crossman became mayor. I ran as councilor from Ward 5. And the very same year, we had elections, you see, in '49, and I thought, "Well, it would be more interesting to be councilor at large." So in one year, I was both councilor… SPEAKER 1: And councilor at large. MRS. LASERTE: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: I see. Now, as a member of the Franco-American community, did you have many contacts in the Franco-American community in Leominster? MRS. LASERTE: Not so many contacts, no. Of course, my husband had many contacts, and through him I did. But I didn't go out very much socially. I belonged to the Fortnightly Club and Musical Club in that. So of course, I didn't get to know the people very well. But I did belong to the Alliance Française, which is of course promoted by France, and I became a president of that organization and received a medal, shall I call it, from the government, because of my work initiating that group. SPEAKER 1: Oh, I see. Oh, you were one of the founders of the group? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Oh, I see. As a result… well, you joined these organizations in the what, '30s, '20s approximately? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. Mostly in the '30s. 5 SPEAKER 1: Mostly in the '30s. And you mentioned that your contacts with Franco Americans were probably slight. That would indicate then that there were many Franco Americans who were not involved in such groups as the Fortnightly and the…? MRS. LASERTE: Oh, yes, very few. When I first belonged to Fortnightly, that was in 1916. I'm an honorary member because I belonged so long. There was a sort of snobbish element there, I regret to say. SPEAKER 1: In the Fortnightly, or…? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: Well, then I became president in 1931. So in some way, I erased it. SPEAKER 1: I see. And were there… at that time, did it encourage Franco Americans to belong to the Fortnightly, or…? MRS. LASERTE: No. SPEAKER 1: No. Why? Do you think it's because of simply the Depression years and they were too involved in trying to make a living, or…? MRS. LASERTE: Well, I don't know just what the trouble was. I think the tendency was to be among themselves in one section of the city. I think the Fortnightly would have welcomed them in a way. I regret that I did say they were snobbish. It isn't quite snobbishness. It's because they didn't know them. SPEAKER 1: I see. I see. Now, when, to your recollection did, as you see it, did the Franco Americans become a little bit more involved with the community at large? MRS. LASERTE: Well, I think it helped when some of our men became interested in politics. I really think that did help. For instance, when Mayor Cormier went in. There was quite a change then. SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: Mayor Lapierre of course had been in before. But there was probably some of it then, but I didn't notice it so much. 6 SPEAKER 1: Right. Right. So you think that the Franco Americans began to be more involved in the city then as a result of some of their members becoming active in politics then? MRS. LASERTE: I do, yes. SPEAKER 1: I see. Did you know any of these people, let's say those that are active in politics? Did you know any of these personally or only through your contacts in politics? MRS. LASERTE: No, just through contacts. SPEAKER 1: Through the contacts in politics. MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Do you think that they were truly representative of the Franco-American community or not? MRS. LASERTE: Well, I think some of them were. I think Henry [Boven] was. I think to a degree Mayor Lapierre was. I think Mayor Cormier was. But I think Mayor Cormier was a little different. He seemed to be a part of the whole city more than just his own section. SPEAKER 1: He was mayor in the what, '50s? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Would that indicate that possibly the Franco-American community had become a real member of the community at this point, or do you think that might be the reason? MRS. LASERTE: Well, I think the women had come in to the community quite a bit. SPEAKER 1: The women had. Before the men? MRS. LASERTE: Before the men. SPEAKER 1: Is that right? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. And I say that I… back there, I said that I helped to erase the snobbishness. Well, we had quite a number of women belonging to Fortnightly and being members of the whole city group or the city community. SPEAKER 1: I see. 7 MRS. LASERTE: And I do think the schools had quite a bit to do with it, more of the French group were going to high school as time went on, and I think that had a great deal to do with it. SPEAKER 1: And you think that was more responsible for the mingling of French Canadians into the entire community more than, say, World War II, or do you think that World War II might have contributed to this turnabout? MRS. LASERTE: I don't think World War II necessarily contributed very much. It did with a very few, but not so much with the whole. Perhaps it would be better if there was just one veteran group in the city, but that's my personal opinion. SPEAKER 1: Right. Well, that was my opinion, too, a few years back, and I don't think it's changed, but you know, isn't that way… MRS. LASERTE: Yeah. SPEAKER 1: Then as far as I can see, your feeling is that Mayor Cormier was different than Mayor Lapierre, that he didn't just represent the French community, or not as much as Mayor Lapierre, that he was truly a… although of French-Canadian descent, he represented more of the entire city. Is that what you're saying? MRS. LASERTE: That's exactly what I feel. Because I worked with him. I worked with every mayor, do you realize that, from the beginning of the city in 1915, except Mayor Allen. Now, Mayor Allen wasn't in very long, and he would have tended to be more like Mayor Cormier. SPEAKER 1: Is that right? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Oh, I see. MRS. LASERTE: But I didn't work with him. And of course, I haven't worked with Mayor McLaughlin, but I've worked with every other mayor because I was on the library board, you see, for quite a while. And I got to feel the difference between the various mayors and what 8 they contributed to the community. And I do feel too that a good mayor can contribute a great deal to the community as a whole. SPEAKER 1: Certainly. Just for a brief moment now, let's go back to the Alliance Française that you helped to establish. Was this joined by many of the French-Canadian group, or was it a group which had contacts with the French language, say, at college or at some other place? Which was it? Do you know? MRS. LASERTE: It started with people who were interested in French from college or teaching experience. SPEAKER 1: Oh, I see. MRS. LASERTE: But as time went on, the group did go the other way. Absolutely. SPEAKER 1: You mean it was joined by many of the French Canadians, or…? MRS. LASERTE: That's right. SPEAKER 1: Is that right? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. But, you know, some of those have dropped out, and it's come back to what it was in the first place. SPEAKER 1: Is that right? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Could you mention at this time—I know this is putting you on the spot in a sense—could you remember any of the French Canadians that belonged to the Alliance Française as they've heard about it, became aware of it, that is still around? [Laughter] MRS. LASERTE: That's still around? That is difficult, because I think most of them were older at the time they joined. SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: Because Dr. [unintelligible - 00:16:42] was in just for two years, I believe, then he died, you see. And we've lost many in that way who were… were too old when they joined, and we lost them. SPEAKER 1: I see. Let's go back a little bit now to Dr. Laserte. His parents were from Canada? MRS. LASERTE: Right. Yes. 9 SPEAKER 1: His father was from, you mentioned, Drummondville? In that area? MRS. LASERTE: Yes, he stayed in Drummondville. He lived near there. Yes. SPEAKER 1: In that area? I see. What brought Dr. Laserte's father to this part of the country? Do you know? MRS. LASERTE: Well, he came in the early '70s. SPEAKER 1: 1870s. MRS. LASERTE: And he worked for a Mr. Patch. He was a blacksmith by trade, but he did very different things in other ways, in crafts. SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: So that F.A. Whitney came into existence, and he worked for F.A. Whitney until he died. And he did some of the craftwork for them as well as the heavy blacksmith work. SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: He was a craftsman. SPEAKER 1: Right. And did he come directly -- do you know if he came directly from Canada to Leominster here? MRS. LASERTE: Yes, he did. SPEAKER 1: What attracted him particularly to Leominster? MRS. LASERTE: Because of this job that he could get… SPEAKER 1: The F.A. Whitney job. MRS. LASERTE: Well, first with Mr. Patch, and then with the F.A. I don't know how we heard about it, but… SPEAKER 1: Probably through a relative, or…? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: … neighbors, probably, who were [unintelligible - 00:18:38]. MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: And how about Mrs. Laserte? MRS. LASERTE: Her maiden name was Lord, L-O-R-D. Now, that family goes way back to a time when the British government was given land for development, and the Lords got it. And I imagine that their name 10 might have been something else and it was changed to Lord, but I don't know. SPEAKER 1: Well, the name Lord then is English rather than French or Canadian? MRS. LASERTE: I think they may have had an Englishman in the family originally. SPEAKER 1: Right, right. And of course, she came down with Mr. Laserte to live in Leominster also. MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Right. And was your husband born in this area, or was he born in Canada? MRS. LASERTE: He was born in Leominster and went to the Leominster public schools. He went to Field School and then went on to the University of Ottawa and the University of Maryland. As a doctor, he kept on studying. He took courses with the Mayo brothers in Rochester, Minnesota; with Dr. Murphy, the well-known man in Illinois; and also with Dr. Joslin and Dr. -- I think his name was McLaughlin, the bone doctor; and with Dr. White, the heart doctor; and the other Dr. White who liked to reduce weight for people. SPEAKER 1: So I gather Dr. Laserte was continually studying while he was practicing his medicine. Is that correct? MRS. LASERTE: That's right. SPEAKER 1: Dr. Laserte practiced medicine in Leominster for quite a number of years. MRS. LASERTE: Yes, from 1906 to 1944. SPEAKER 1: 1906 to 1944. SPEAKER 1: Did Dr. Laserte retire shortly before he passed away, or was he active to the very end? MRS. LASERTE: He was active to the very end. In fact, he died at a patient's home, suddenly. And that very day, I had talked about retirement, and he said, "No, you can't imagine me sitting in a rocking chair, and you never will see me sitting in a rocking chair." 11 SPEAKER 1: Well, I don't remember Dr. Laserte that well because I was rather young, but he had a very good reputation in the Franco-American community. Do you know why that might be? Do you think it was because he himself was Franco American, or what? MRS. LASERTE: No, I don't think it was that. I think he had a way with them that they rather liked, because he had probably as many who were not Franco Americans as patients. SPEAKER 1: So he… I'm sorry. MRS. LASERTE: He must have had a way with them that they liked. I don't know any other reason. SPEAKER 1: I know there were people, Franco Americans, who did not go to Dr. Laserte. But I know that he had… from everything that I've heard, he enjoyed a good reputation with them. So apparently, Dr. Laserte served the entire community and did not confine his practice to any section of the city. MRS. LASERTE: That's right. SPEAKER 1: Mrs. Laserte, what… as a member of the school committee, what would you consider as some of your accomplishments? What are some of the things that you tried to do even though you may not have been successful? MRS. LASERTE: Well, I tried to get adequate buildings, for one thing, and we did the best we could under the circumstances. I also tried to make the expenses as low as possible but still have a good education for the children. One of the things that we did when I was a member was to raise the salaries because they were out of proportion with the state salaries. Another thing that was interesting was that during the Depression, the teachers were going to be cut 20 percent, and I conferred with some of the teachers and said what I thought was inevitable, and it was. It proved so. Well, if you offer to take off 10 percent, you will be considered very fine citizens and very fine teachers, and they won't dare take the other 10 percent away. That 12 came out as I wanted it to. I was auditor for 21 years and found that there are, in some cases, things that we needed that we were not getting and pushed for getting them through the council when the budget was regulated by the council, as it always has been. And we sometimes got what we needed. I was very much interested in vocational education and worked to get the Saxton Trade High. It was not a glamorous place by any description, but it really filled the bill. The Saxtons whom I knew were willing to give the building, the first building, providing we use their name. That seemed to be the answer. We had been going from pillar to post in the vocational buildings. So they had that. I was completely interested in having a part of the vocational education as a part of the high school because I thought that some of the subjects were necessary for vocational students. That has not happened yet because the state insisted on keeping the two schools separate in reference to finance, especially. And they do not, or have not, in other years, wanted to have a comprehensive high school. SPEAKER 1: You mentioned teacher salaries, that you helped to improve them. What was a beginner's teacher's salary in the '20s, say, in Leominster? MRS. LASERTE: Well, sometimes as low as $700 a year. Our superintendent, Perry, who was the first superintendent I worked with, left with a salary of $3,700 when he retired. SPEAKER 1: That's quite a difference between $32,000. MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: [Laughter] Do you think that one of the reasons then that we have not made a comprehensive high school is because of the financial support that we would probably not receive from the state if we did? 13 MRS. LASERTE: Yes, that has been the reason in other years. I don't know what the situation is now, but perhaps it has improved. In Newton, we have two separate schools in the same way when I left, but I have heard that more has been done in that direction in Newton. SPEAKER 1: Now, you said that you were interested in getting the proper kinds of buildings for the students in Leominster. Were you responsible in any way for any particular building? Did you work towards the building of any particular building? MRS. LASERTE: Oh, yes, I worked for the Gallagher Junior High School, and I was, as I said before, chairman of the furnishings there, and also worked of course on the whole program. I thought that architects sometimes could produce a high school that would be… or a building that could be found in another city at a cheaper cost than we find it is. So we went down to Malden, I believe, and found a school very much like ours. But the architect could not be convinced that he could use that, and his fee was about the same as if we had had an entirely different plan. There was a slight difference, but not enough to show. I feel sometimes that the architects' fees are tremendous. I also worked on the Northwest School. There again, I was on the furnishings committee. I found quite a difference there. The state took over some of the things we were supposed to be doing. For instance, in the cafeteria, the state said we were having [unintelligible - 00:29:35] where we might have preferred it our way. SPEAKER 1: Do you know why that was? MRS. LASERTE: Well, they claimed that the traffic would be easier, but we found that it wasn't afterwards. The traffic in the, you know, in the cafeteria. SPEAKER 1: In the billing and the handling of the students. MRS. LASERTE: There are cases where city people know more than the state people, and that was one of them. We had a free hand with the Gallagher 14 Junior High School, and I think that people have not made too many complaints about it. SPEAKER 1: No, that building will be up for a long time. Do you think that the demands made by the state in the case of the Northwest School was because the state was giving more money, more state aid at that time? MRS. LASERTE: I do, definitely. SPEAKER 1: So they figured if they're going to pay for it, they're going to tell you what's appropriate. MRS. LASERTE: Yes, and don't forget, we do have a certain bureaucracy that tends to think it knows the answers more than other people do. SPEAKER 1: Now, these two buildings you felt you were active in promoting and working towards getting built, was there any particular resistance in the community? And more specifically, do you feel that there was a particular resistance with, say, the Franco-American community because they already had their elementary school? MRS. LASERTE: Oh no, there was no resistance among the Franco Americans at all about either building, or any building, as far as I know. But there was a fire up there at Saint Cecilia's School. SPEAKER 1: Yes. MRS. LASERTE: I pleaded there with Mayor Burdett and the rest of them that we [furnish space] which we had at the time for them. Well, we could go just so far within the state laws. We did what we could, and I think that must have been appreciated, at the time anyhow. Now, the resistance for Northwest was the greatest, perhaps, of the two. People in the Lancaster Street District were very vocal about saying that they needed [unintelligible - 00:32:33] instead of those [affordables]. SPEAKER 1: Oh, I see. You had affordables up here. 15 MRS. LASERTE: And then our answer to that was -- of course, we had affordables at Northwest too, but that was a political thing, I think, perhaps with certain people that promoted the [unintelligible - 00:32:53] than with the people as a whole. Because the Italians have been very cooperative, too, as well as the French. And now, the Gallagher, well that came from city hall, and that came from the fact that we had a treasurer there, whose name we are not going to mention, who it was found defrauded us for a good sum of money, almost $200,000. Now, I had an argument with that fellow when I was working on a publicity, and I said, "Why is it that Framingham can build a junior high school and we can't?" At that time, Framingham was comparable to Leominster. Well, he pounded on the counter and said, "That situation is different." Well, I said, "You have to show me." And it was different, too. SPEAKER 1: Is this the time that the town hall burned down? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. Well, the town hall had burned down. SPEAKER 1: Oh, it had burned down. I see. You referred to the fire at Saint Cecilia's Parochial School. I had heard all sorts of rumors. For example, the Ku Klux Klan was responsible for the fire, might have been responsible. There was some fellow up there, I think, one of the French Canadian community, that had been apparently getting into a little bit of trouble, that he may have been the cause of the fire. What was the cause of the fire from your point of view? Do you recall? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. Well, we've talked about that, and it was thought that one of the young boys had left some rags in the wrong place, and perhaps another boy might have thought a match would be a good idea to put on the rags. Then it was not a plot or anything of that kind. That's the solution we had. I think one of the members of the school committee was very much interested, and he didn't want the 16 Klan to be blamed. So he worked on it, and we got the answers that way. SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: He had to admit that. Well, even [unintelligible - 00:35:38] I say. [Laughter] SPEAKER 1: Yeah. MRS. LASERTE: He had to admit it. SPEAKER 1: Right, mm-hmm. So from what I gather, you didn't find any necessary strong resistance in the French community to building schools even though they supported their school? MRS. LASERTE: No, no. I remember so well when we had our opening of the Gallagher Junior High School and the people were visiting around, and I was so happy because quite a number of the French people came up and told me what a fine building it was. So that showed their spirit, too. SPEAKER 1: Right, the community spirit, the fact that they would take time out to visit the public school, so to speak. MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Now, you mentioned Dr. Perry. Now, he was a superintendent of schools. Is that correct? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Wasn't he active in the French community, or was that his wife that was active? MRS. LASERTE: His wife was. She belonged to that French group, the Alliance. SPEAKER 1: The French Alliance? That's it? MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: Yes, she was quite interested in French. So of course, naturally, she was also interested in Italian. SPEAKER 1: I see. Did she have to do something with citizenship training in the French community? 17 MRS. LASERTE: Oh, yes, she did. And she did quite a good piece of work there, I think. SPEAKER 1: What did that consist of? What do you recall? I mean, this goes back a few years. MRS. LASERTE: Well, she would tell them how to become American citizens process-wise and help them with their papers. SPEAKER 1: Preparing the papers… MRS. LASERTE: Yes. SPEAKER 1: Yes. Was this a night school situation, or…? MRS. LASERTE: Yes, it was night school. SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: Yes. That's when she saw them. SPEAKER 1: I see. And she taught them some English there and helped them to get organized. MRS. LASERTE: Yeah, we had what I was very proud of, a so-called steamboat class. SPEAKER 1: Steamboat. MRS. LASERTE: Yes. It was finally a relief for the Italian people that came and did not know English. And we had one teacher take care of that, and she was one of the finest teachers I ever knew. Well, quite a number of the French people from Canada were in her classes. Now, when they speak of bilingual classes in Boston, I think of that. And that was way back in the '20s when we had those classes, and I think we'd better be proud of it. And I was very much interested in those. In fact, I knew this teacher from Newton. She came from Newton, and I knew her possibilities when we accepted her. SPEAKER 1: This teacher then knew a couple of the foreign languages than Italian and French, or…? MRS. LASERTE: No, she did it through English. SPEAKER 1: Did it through English. 18 MRS. LASERTE: Her idea was, "You have to sink them right into English." SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: "Then they sink or swim," she used to say to me. SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: I suppose that was steamboat, too. [Laughter] SPEAKER 1: [Laughter] MRS. LASERTE: But there's only the two languages, she thought. And I agree, because I went through the process myself. I'm proud of it. We always spoke French at home. And when I went to school, I didn't know any English at all. And I got to. So I can't understand these expenses that we have to have for Puerto Ricans or others. SPEAKER 1: I see. I see. So you have a feeling that bilingual is not something that we should have, that they should be exposed to the English immediately. MRS. LASERTE: That's correct, Neil. SPEAKER 1: I see. MRS. LASERTE: Yes. Another thing in which we were very strong was the domestic science and the tinkering. We call them the tinkering boys, those that did home repairs. We had that way back, and I was very much interested in that. And then the evening school started with very little and progressed to all kinds of subjects as we have them now. SPEAKER 1: Was the evening school instituted while you were a member of the school committee? MRS. LASERTE: Yes, I would say it was very soon after I came into the program. And I was very much in favor of a limited evening school. I wanted to have the essentials taught. My idea was more for helping people who are, well, illiterates—and we had them—and who had not finished even the grade schools—and we had them—as well as high school and so on. So they're a little different from 19 what we have now where we expand and give them other types of courses. SPEAKER 1: Mrs. Laserte, you mentioned that you served on the school committee 23 years. Are there any other women that served with you during that period of time? MRS. LASERTE: No, I was the only woman that served at that time. I will say I also was the only woman on the city council when I served. SPEAKER 1: So you have several firsts to your name then? MRS. LASERTE: Yes, first woman on the school committee, first woman on Ward 5 council, first woman councilor at large. And when there was a plan to give certificates for firsts, our [unintelligible - 00:42:04] president asked me if I was willing to go into the contest, and I said, "Well, I am, but I probably won't get it." So they sent my name in, and I got the certificate. SPEAKER 1: So the Franco-American community can take pride in your achievements as well as the Women's Liberation Movement. [Laughter] MRS. LASERTE: I don't believe in the Women's Liberation Movement. I always considered myself a person when I was serving, on the school committee or council. I never thought of myself as a woman. I'm a person. I'm a citizen. And I think some of that liberation business is not in my line at all. In fact, perhaps most of it isn't. SPEAKER 1: Let's go to the years on the city council. Now, how many years did you serve there? You mentioned it before. MRS. LASERTE: Well, I served just a few months as ward councilor and two years as councilor at large. SPEAKER 1: What prevented you from becoming the first mayor, lady mayor? MRS. LASERTE: I think there are certain places where a woman does not belong because of the feeling that people still have about women. And one of those places is mayor, being mayor. Also, I was asked to run as representative in our legislature, and I felt the same way 20 about that. I think I like my sex well enough so I don't want it to be criticized. And one reason for criticizing women is that they're trying to place themselves in the wrong place, politically. SPEAKER 1: Do you see as a possibility that later on maybe women themselves will be better prepared to accept some of these jobs as well as the community as a whole being more receptive? MRS. LASERTE: I think many women know more than men do. I am very much impressed by these secretaries that know more than the bosses do. SPEAKER 1: Okay. That's true. That's true. The secretary is a very valuable asset in an office. While you were a councilor, either as a ward councilor or a councilor at large, what were some of the activities you participated in? If you recall, what were some of the situations that required action? MRS. LASERTE: I voted for the Northwest School. SPEAKER 1: The program which you had begun as a member of the school committee? MRS. LASERTE: Way back then. When we were getting affordables, I knew it was time to have either an addition or a new building. I did not approve an addition because of the small area at George Street. I was very glad to vote for the Northwest School. SPEAKER 1: And time has shown that you were correct by adding another building. MRS. LASERTE: Yes, I think so. We weren't sure that that was where we should put it, but because George Street could be used for a good many years, we felt, it would be a good idea to have them near together./AT/mb/es

Issue 55.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1996. ; fo r reli ious Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living MAY-JUNE 1996 ¯ VOLUME55 ¯ NUMBER3 Revtew fo~r .Reli~tous tS a ~orum fo~r Shared reflection on the~ liVed :experie~ice @ all Who find that :the~.churCb's~ rico bemtaffes ~o~ ,sptntuaht~ "sul~OOrt the~r pdrsonal: ~a~d: apostoli~ :~e~a~cles ~tn the~jou~al are ;meant ~to~ ~e t~foNat~ve~ :~radt~dal~.~o~ in~p~at~nal, wH~en~om a th~lO~ic~l or so~nmt or:somenmes mnontcat oo~nt ot vtew,~ , : Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthlv at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP St. Bernadette Convent ¯ 76 Universit3, Blvd. East ¯ Silver Spring, MD 20901 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1996 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe TracT Gramm Jean Read James and Joan Felling Iris Ann Ledden SSND Joel Rippinger OSB Edmundo Rodriguez sJ David Werthmann CSSR Patricia Wittberg SC Chris~ar~ ]~er~tages and Contemporary Living MAY/JUNE 1996 ¯ VOLUME 55 ¯ NUMBER 3 230 The Ecclesiology of the U.S. Bishops' 1994 Healthcare Directives John A. Gallagher develops some implications of the ecclesiology underlying the mission, governance, and partnership found in Catholic healthcare services. 249 264 Abandonment That Enlivens and Sets Fire for Mission George Aschenbrenner SJ develops a spirituality of abandonment as central to the stability and identity of a religious congregation in respect to its mission, community, authority, and obedience. Gathering the Fragments: New Times for Obedience Judith A. Merkle SNDdeN explores obedience as affective bonding and the challenge this call presents personally, congregationally, and ecclesially. Review for Religious 283 297 Acknowledging the Gift of Gay Priestly Celibacy William McDonough presents a case for the timeliness of acknowledging the homosexual orientation of gay celibate priests as a gift to the church. HIV Testing of Seminary and Religious-Order Candidates James F. Keenan SJ reviews reasons for and against HIV testing for priesthood and religious-life candidates and suggests some ethical standards that need to be observed. 315 A Call for a Bespoke Revival of a Hijacked Tradition Bertrand Webster FMS suggests a number of ways to update our use of the rosary for both individual and communal devotion. ,~ 228 Prisms 320 Canonical Counsel: General Chapters: Historical Background 326 Book Reviews May-3~ene 1996 prisms Nostalgia becomes a fitti'ng characteristic of the poet Homer's Odysseus--in the midst of all his travels and adventures he is driven by an aching desire to return to his island home and his wife, Penelope. A contemporary dictionary builds upon the original Greek root of nostalgia, expanding its meaning from a home-sickness to the wistful and sometimes abnormal yearning for a return to some fondly remembered season of life or an unrepeatable dream. It seems to be natural for many of us to harbor a certain nostalgia for the past--either what we have experienced or, perhaps, what we have only read or heard about. Movies or television docudramas are often quite suc-cessful in evoking an appreciation of a past with a sim-pler lifestyle or less complicated human relationships. Even reading the Gospels can sometimes lead us to express the wish that we "could have lived at the time of Jesus." The nostalgia to have been among the crowd listening to Jesus speaking out the beatitudes or among the thousands fed by Jesus' miracle of the loaves and fishes receives a rude awakening when we realize that, likely enough, we would have been among those who walked away and went about their ordinary duties of life. In our daily examen of consciousness, we find that we ignore and walk away even now from the many Christs who enter our day. The church of the 13th and 14th centuries--the peak-ing of scholastic theological developments--was in fer-ment from the press of many ideas. The controversies which resulted were often worked through over long peri-ods in a debate form called quaestiones disputatae (disputed questions). The question was a technique to explore the Review for Religious writings of authorities in conflict and the process of conflicting argumentation. Today we sometimes get glimpses of this method in writings found in the medical and health-science fields. Although we may unconsciously idealize the civility of these olden theological discussions, perhaps without too much nostalgia we can appreciate an inquiring drive toward new understanding that is often missing from church life today. Maybe, with computer knowledge banks and television soundbite news, we all have become impatient with debate and discussion; we want only answers and truths and none of the messiness of living with our own responsible choice among some merely provisional under-standings available to us. God's revelation finds its fulfillment in Christ; yet even if revealed truth is complete, it remains for Christian faith to grasp its full significance over the course of centuries. Since the truth of the church's witness is still human truth, we need to ask ourselves the question: Should we not expect disputes and controversies in our theological developments and pastoral practices just as there are in other human disciplines? Consecrated life in the life of the church is not disputed, but how it fits within church structure, what new forms it takes along-side older ones, how to work out the relationship of religious superiors and bishops, and what roles consecrated life plays within the local church are some of the ongoing questions addressed in Pope John Paul's apostolic exhortation under date of 25 March 1996. The letter is the pope's reflections on the October 1994 Synod of Bishops on the consecrated life and its mission in the church and in the world. The pope's letter brings a closure to the synod and at the same time opens out its workings into the future. As one. who exhorts, the pope sees the questions around conse-crated life as reason to commit ourselves with fresh enthusiasm. He sees that the church stands in need of the spiritual and apos-tolic contribution of a renewed and revitalized consecrated life. As a resource for continuing this discussion about consecrated life, a new book, The Church and Consecrated Life, is being pub-lished by Review for Religious. The book includes a review of the official church documents on consecrated life since, Vatican a number of exploratory articles, and the pope's apostolic exhor-tation. The book is available from our St. Louis office; the cost is $20 which includes postage and handling. David L. Fleming SJ May-J, ote 1996 JOHN A. GALLAGHER The Ecclesiology of the U.S. Bishops' 1994 Healthcare Directives "Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services" has been published now for about a year.' Sponsors (religious institutes, commonly), board mem-bers, and managers of Catholic healthcare organizations have had the time to reflect upon this new promulgation of directives. What new elements do they find? What will they need to assimilate into their decision-making pro-cesses and their Catholic healthcare operations in order to respond appropriately to this teaching of the American bishops? Interestingly, what is most innovative in this set of directives and most clearly different from the 1971 set is not new or more nuanced ethical teaching. Most of the individual directives are unchanged or only minimally changed. Afterations in specific ethical directives are attributable to statements from the Roman curia (for example, the responsum on uterine isolation) and to changes in the healthcare delivery system in the United States (see Part 6, Forming New Partnerships with Health Care Organizations and Providers). Perhaps the most provoca-tive ethical change can be found in Directive 57, which asserts that "excessive expense [to] the family or the com-munity" can render a life-prolonging intervention an "extraordinary" means and thus a morally optional one. The addition of "community" to the classic definition of John A. Gallagher is director for corporate ethics for the Holy Crbss Health System. His address is 3606 East Jefferson Boulevard; South Bend, Indiana 46115. Review for Religious what constitutes an extraordinary means of prolonging life will probably become controversial in a healthcare system increas-ingly dominated by managed care. What is more distinctly new in the 1994 "Directives" is the ecclesiology that can be perceived as a consistent undercurrent throughout the document. Ecclesiology is the theological disci-pline that attempts to understand what the church is, how it is related to the wider world, and how persons within the church (clergy, religious, laity) are related to one another and the church as a whole; "Directives" is not a treatise on the church. But it is concerned to identify the mission of Catholic healthcare within the mission of the church as a whole, to outline a governance structure for Catholic healthcare vis-~l-vis the local ordinary, and to set limits to cooperative arrangements between Catholic health organizations and healthcare providers daat are not Catholic. This underlying ecclesiology constitutes the truly innovative aspect of "Directives." This inchoate episcopal teaching merits serious the-ological consideration by the sponsors and leaders of Catholic healthcare. TheMission of Catholic Healthcare and the Church's Mission How convenient it would be to begin with a definition of church. But mysteries are not readily captured in crisp definitions. Theologians have contented themselves with speaking of the marks or characteristics of the church (one, holy, catholic, apos-tolic). The fathers of Vatican Council II frequently employed analogies from Scripture to provide clarification concerning the nature of the church. The closest they came to a definition was to assert, in Lumen gentium, that the church is the visible sacrament of the saving unity offered to people through the redemptive work of Christ (LG §9). In his masterful Models of the Church, Avery Dulles SJ pro-posed five models, analogies which enable some further under-standing of the mystery of the church? These models are derived from ecclesiologies developed by various theologians to portray what they believed to be the essential characteristic of the church. The models describe the church as institution, mystical commu-nion, sacrament, herald, and servant. Dulles's argument is that, though the church is no one of these models, its identity can be May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives partially clarified through reflection upon each of them. In a sub-sequent edition Dulles added a sixth model, the church as a com-munity of disciples, to emphasize the inherent cohesiveness and unity among the models and indeed of the church itself. The mission of the church pertains to its activities as a "fel-lowship of life, charity, and truth" founded by Christ to be his "instrument for the redemption of all" (LG §9; see also Ad gentes §5). Note that the mission of the church is simply another man-ner of speaking about what the church is; "mission" is a clarifi-cation, not the addition of some further information. The church is its mission. To assert that the church is "visible sacrament" is to clarify both what the church is and what it does. So with each of Dulles's models: they portray not only what the church is, but also what it does. The church is an institution, and many of its activities result from the fact that it has social, legal, and hierar-chical structures. The church is a mystical communion which unites those who are within it and identifies its relationship with other religious groups. The church as sacrament is the visible symbol of the redemptive work of Christ; its activities are symbols having their effect in the world today. The church as herald pro-claims Jesus' redeeming gospel. The church as servant extends its witness into the secular world. The mission of Catholic healthcare is but one manifestation of the mission of the church as a whole; it partakes in that visible sacrament of redemption, in that mystery which is the church's very being. The mission of the church is manifested also in Catholic parochial life, in education, and in various charitable enterprises. The healing mission of Jesus, "Directives" asserts, touches all of Catholic healthcare: The mystery of Christ casts light on every facet of Catholic healthcare: to see Christian love as the animating princi-ple of healthcare; to see healing and compassion as a con-tinuation of Christ's mission; to see suffering as a participation in the redemptive power of Christ's passion, death, and resurrection; and to see death, transformed by the resurrection, as an opportunity for a final act of com-munion with Christ. ("Directives" booklet, p. 6) Thus, Catholic healthcare is a particular specification of the mission of the church itself. As the documefits of Vatican II say with regard to missionary endeavors, so also with regard to Catholic healthcare, "the differences to be found in this activity Review for Religious of the church do not result from the inner nature of her mission itself, but are due rather to the circumstances in which this mis-sion is exercised" (AG §6). "Directives" (p. 1) indicates that a major reason why a revision was needed was developments within the church: changes in reli-gious orders and congregations, the increased involvement of lay men and women, a heightened awareness of the church's social role in the world, and developments in moral theology. Another major reason was the reconfiguration of the American healthcare system. The acute-care hospital and the long-term- care facility, the two places where most Catholic healthcare has been provided, are being incorporated nowadays into integrated delivery systems. Catholic healthcare organi-zations are b.ecoming owners or partners of these systems or are providing services within them and thus are assuming some fundamen-tally new obligations. Accordingly it became necessary to reflect anew on Catholic health-care's mission. But why explicitly? With Catholic health-care now consisting of myriad structures and organizations by which an array of healthcare services is provided to individual persons and communities, what the new "Directives" intends to accomplish is "a theological basis for the Catholic healthcare ministry" (p. 2). The healthcare ministry has always been manifested in the activities of physicians and nurses, orderlies and aides; women and men dedicated to care of the poor, the dying, the homeless. This ministry was in part animated by people's desire to mirror the healing mission of Jesus. In the United States, Catholic healthcare ministry has, along with the witness of these many individuals, also been closely identified with the healthcare institutions that many religious congregations have sponsored and governed. Now, however, as "Directives" notes, lay people are increasingly emerg-ing as the leaders of this ministry. "Directives," which is "con-cerned primarily with institutionally based Catholic healthcare services" (p, 2), is intended to provide a theological basis for con-temporary Catholic healthcare ministry because this ministry must increas.ingly receive its theological impetus from the apos-tolic endeavors of lay people rather than from the church- What the new "Directives" intends to accomplish is "a theological basis for the Catholic healthcare ministry." May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiolog~ of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives approved constitutions and the apostolic vision of sponsoring congregations. This point is crucial for understanding the ecclesiology of "Directives." Catholic healthcare in the United States has almost exclusively been the ministry of religious women. As the number of religious available for the ministry continues to decline, lay women and men, i~acluding indeed a significant number of non- Catholics, have become leaders of the Catholic healthcare min-istry. From the perspective of the mission of the church and the perspective of lay Catholics, this is a major development. Laypersons are now leaders of an institutional Catholic ministry, roles traditionally reserved to clerics and religious. Lay people are no longer at the periphery; no longer just collaborators, they are increasingly the major participants. The laity has always had a role in fulfilling the mission of the church. The apostolate of the laity has generally been construed as bringing the mission of the church into the secular world. Lumen gentium defines the lay apostolate as "a participation in the saving mission of the church itself" and describes the role of the laity as making "the church present and operative in those places and circumstances where only through them can she become the salt of the earth" (§33). The lay apostolate, however, has generally been embodied in the activities of individual Catholic men and women. In their lives of service as doctors, lawyers, judges, and teachers, they concomitantly witnessed to the saving mystery of Christ. They sometimes joined associations of Catholic lawyers or doctors and sometimes taught or practiced in a Catholic college or hospital, but for the most part their apos-tolate was conducted outside an institution officially associated with the mission of the church. If Catholic lay-persons chose to carry out their apostolate in a Catholic school or hospital, it was the priests or religious who were the sponsors and administra-tors. It was the presence of priests and religious that both canon-ically and de facto gave the institution its Catholic identity and its link to themission of the church. ~ Such an understanding of institutions as vehicles for the mis-sion of the church has become codified in canon law. The law strives to assure that the property and financial resources of such institutions will be used e~xclusively for the mission of the church (canon 1254, §2). When a bishop confers Catholic identity on an educational or healthcare institution, he expects that certain obli- Review for Religious gations of faith and administration will be embodied in the life of that organization.3 A Catholic institution ought to carry out its ministry in a manner that reflects the church's understanding of the gospel and the tradition. "Ethical and Religious Directives" is the episcopal effort to delineate at least some aspects of the church's current understanding of the gospel as it relates to the healthcare ministry. What is most innovative about "Directives" is that it acknowl-edges and endorses the leadership role of the laity in these insti-nations. In the past, as lay people participated in the ministry of priests and sisters, they were sometimes encouraged to model their lives on those of religious, to become mem-bers of third orders, in order to enter more fully into the ministry. But now laypersons qua laypersons are becoming the major par-ticipants in this ministry. In line with what Yves Congar OP wrote shortly after World War II, lay people in the American church have now begun to take part "in the hierar-chical apostolate, that is, in that sacred activ-ity., which defines the church's proper task and mission.''4 Thus "Ethical and Religious Directives" announces a significantly new manner in which the ministry of Catholic healthcare will be conducted in the 21 st century. This sort of development is occurring also in other institutional ministries of the church in the United States. The laity are increasingly being recruited into leadership positions on all levels of Catholic education, In a recent address Father Philip Murnion, director of the National Pastoral Life Center, said that "the fuimre of parish ministry, of educatior~, of pastoral care 'and the development of worship life will increasingly be in the hands of the laity."s The laity are fill-ing the vacuum created by the declining numbers of priests and religious active in the church's institutional life~ Therefore, as Ladislas Orsy SJ has recently suggested, the opinions and rec-ommendations of layperson~ will need to be'more fully integrated into institutional decision making within the church.6 If lay people are to constitute the staff and leadership of Catholic healthcare in the 21st century, how is that ministry to be "The future of parish ministry, of education, of pastoral care and the development of worship life will increasingly be in the hands of the laity." May-~une 1996 Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives theologically articulated? At the presenttime, mission statements and core values derived from the constitutions and way of life of the sponsoring congregations have provided the sense of purpose and direction that animates the ministry. But, as sponsorship becomes more tenuous and at some point no longer exists, what will replace it? At that point American Catholic healthcare will be drawn back to its ecclesial roots, to what is common to the founding congregations and to the lay apostolate and to the ministry of healthcare: the mission of the church. How the participants in Catholic healthcarewill articulate the relation between the mis-sion of the church and the ministry of healthcare in 2025 or 2050 lies far beyond the worries of current leaders of Catholic health-care. But it is the duty of those who live in a period of transition like ours to begin to make the theological transitions. Dulles's models, I believe, provide us with theological categories with which to begin such a reflection.7 The church as institution, sacrament, and mystical commu-nion will'always be central to its healthcare ministry because those words describe what the church is, as does the word mission. As an institutional ministry, Catholic healthcare must maintain its link to the church as institution. Catholic healthcare will always be sacramental; it will continue to serve as a symbol of the healing and caring ministry of Christ. The anointing of the sick, the sacra-ment of reconciliation, and especially the Eucharist will continue to be essential in Catholic healthcare's holistic healing ministry. Further, as an institutional ministry staffed by persons of many faiths and providing services to a culturally and religiously diverse population, the Catholic healthcare ministry will continue to be a sign of the church as mystical communion. In, a time of transition such as the present, however, and as "Directives" makes clear, there are dangers in the current envi-ronment which jeopardize this relationship. The three models we have just discussed will not be adequate to describe the Catholic healthcare of the 21st century. As laypersons increas-ingly become the bearers of the ministry of Catholic healthcare, it is the herald and servant models of the church that will best correspond to Catholic healthcare's activities. The servant model construes the church's activities in a sec-ular- dialogic model, "secular, because the church takes the world as a properly theological locus, and seeks to discern the signs of Review for Religiotts the times; dialogic, because it seeks to operate on the frontier between the contemporary world and the Christian tradition.''8 Patient care, relations with collaborators and other providers, and the governance and management of multibillion-dollar corpora-tions will increasingly draw the healthcare ministry into a world with which it can never be truly at ease and which it cannot con-trol; but it is the world in which the healthcare ministry will make present the saving mystery of Christ. Will Catholic healthcare as servant be able to have signifi-cant influence on the business and medical spheres which will shape its institutional presence in the world? The values of med-ical science and of business and the manner in which they affect the lives of individual persons and communities will be the socio-cultural matrix which the church as servant will seek to influence. The servant model directs the ministry of laypersons where it has traditionally been done, the secular world. But the lay people enter this world no longer as individuals, but with the collective power, influence, and responsibility associated with the leader-ship of an institutional ministry. The church as herald is, in a sense, the counterpart of the church as servant, The latter seeks to engage the secular world, to bring about at least a partial recognition of the human signifi-cance of gospel values. The church as herald, on the o.ther hand, does not seek the transformation of society, but contents itself with witnessing to the Word of God. The church is gathered by the Word of God which it has received as "an official message with the commission to pass it on.''9 The church as herald com-plements the church as servant by recalling to Catholic healthcare that fidelity to God's Word is the test of its collaboration in a secular world. The Governance Structure of Catholic Healthcare The 1971 version of "Ethical and Religious Directives" makes no specific reference to the role of the local bishop in regard to the affairs of Catholic healthcare organizations. The 1994 edi-tion, on the other hand, assigns a major role to the local bishop in the governance of healthcare organizations within the diocese. The healthcare ministry in a local diocese is an activity in which the diocesan bishop exercises responsibilities that are rooted in his office as pastor, teacher, and priest. As the center of Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiolo~mtof tbe 1994 Healtbcare Directives unity in the diocese and coordinator of ministries in the local church, the diocesan bishop fosters the mission of Catholic healthcare in a way that promotes collaboration among healthcare leaders, providers, medical profession-als, theologians, and other specialists. As pastor the dioce-san bishop is in a unique position to encourage the faithful to greater responsibility in the healing ministry of the church. As teacher the diocesan bishop ensures the moral and religious identity of the healthcare ministry in what-ever setting it is carried out in the diocese. As priest the diocesan bishop oversees the sacramental care of the sick. ("Directives," p. 4) Individual directives define the role of the local bishop in the founding of new Catholic healthcare facilities (no. 8), in the administration of the sacraments to non-Catholics (no. 20), and in the appointment of Catholic and non-Catholic chaplains (nos. 21, 22), especially the director of pastoral care (no. 21). Directive 37 proposes that there be some form of liaison between ethics committees and the local bishop. Part 6 deeply involves the :bishop in decisions of Catholic healthcare institutions concerning entrance into new partnerships and alliances. The local bishop is to be consulted (no. 67), and in some instances appropriate autho-rization or a nihil obstat is to be obtained from him. "Directives" of 1994 articulates a set of mutual responsibilities between the local bishop and the leadership of the healthcare ministries within the diocese. The issues posed by these aspects of "Directives" define how the governance of the bishop is to be exercised. These are fundamentally issues of ecclesiology, not of ethics or morality. Their purpose is to clarify the relationship of the local bishop to the ministries of Catholic healthcare in his diocese. The point is to specify the mutual responsibilities of bishops and the boards and senior management of Catholic healthcare orga-nizations. The more subtle and more important purpose is to maintain the link between the local church and its healthcare ministry. It will be important for Catholic healthcare and the bishops to consider whether this is the appropriate relationship. The ecclesiology of this section of "Directives" is based upon the canonical principle that a .bishop is subject to no higher author-ity in his diocese other than the pope (canon 381). But Catholic healthcare organizations and their member institutions crisscross diocesan lines. Indeed the healthcare ministry is partially set within individual dioceses, but its service and witness are spread Review for Religious to the American healthcare system as a whole. Although canoni-cally there is no such thing as the American Catholic church, it is within the publicly recognized reality of such an organization that the Catholic healthcare ministry exists. That the local bishop is the sole person with the authority to confer Catholic identity upon a new healthcare facility is certainly nothing new, nor is it riew that the bishop should have. a role in the appointment of Catholic chaplains and oversee the administration of the sacraments. Both of these activities pertain to the institutional and sacramental aspects of the church, which are at the heart of a bishop's ministry. What will require clarification is the role of bishops with regard to. ethics commit-tees and the formation of partnerships and other alliances. Ethics committees exist in virtually every Catholic hospital in the United States. They provide three functions. First, they offer edu-cational programs for physicians, nurses, and staff. Second, although they do not make patient-care decisions, they do provide consul-tation to patieni:s, families, nurses, and physi-cians concerning ethical issues that can arise in the course of patient care. Third, they collabo-rate with the officers and board of a hospital in writing policies on such issue~ as "do not resuscitate" orders, informed consent, and physician-assisted suicide. Through such policies Catholic hos-pitals have expressed their compliance with "Ethical and Religious Directives." Many Catholic hospitals possess written policies on abortion, sterilization, contraception, and euthanasia. Physicians, nurses, and other medical personnel practicing within the hospi-tal are expected to conform their treatment plans to the policies of the hospital. The work of the ethics committee is one of the places where Catholic healthcare as h~rald is particularly active. These com-mittees grapple with the concrete details of medical practice within an acute-care setting. The committees require the skills and knowledge base of physicians, nurses, ethicists, and hospital administrators. They apply ~he principles of Catholic healthcare to concrete patient-care decision~. They do so in an environment in which professional medical standards, patient preferences, the What will require clarification is the role of bishops with regard to ethics committees and the formation of partnerships and other alliances. May-J*lne 1996 Gallagber ¯ " Ecclesioloy~y._of tbe 1994 Healtbca~re_D__irec~'.v_e. ,s, desires of insurance companies and other payers, the dictates of civil law, and the teaching of the Catholic hierarchy may not be in agreement. As Catholic hospitals are progressively integrated into organized delivery systems, the work of the ethics commit-tees will need to migrate from the acute-care setting directly into the managed-care environment where the major policy and patient-care decisions will be made. In many instances the Catholic organization will be part of a larger whole; it will not have the same degree of control over policies and patient-care decisions that it has had in the past. If bishops or their representatives enter the deliberations of ethics committees with the same sense of purpose as other par-ticipants in the healthcare ministry, if they come as servants and as heralds, then they will be received as welcome collaborators. The work of ethics committees is very concrete; rarely is time devoted to the discussion of ethical theory or metaethics. Consensus is the mode of decision making on which these com-mittees thrive.I° Authoritarian interventions in the work of ethics committees simply will not work. They will drive away the col-laborators essential for the successful operation of a contemporary ethics committee. How the bishop chooses to interact with the ethics committees associated with healthcare ministries in his dio-cese will determine the contribution these interventions will make to the ministry of Catholic healthcare. A recent article by Kevin Wildes SJ deals with the role that the 1994 "Directives" ascribes to the local bishop. He concludes by saying that the ecclesiology of "Directives" marks a shift toward a top-down model in ecclesiology. The Catholic tradition, Wildes argues, has generally maintained an uneasy tension between those in authority (the pope, the bishops) and those considered to be authorities (theologians). Wildes's concern is that "Directives" gives the impression of being "an effort of those in authority to restrict the space and liberty of those who are an authority.''a~ Wildes's premonition must be taken seriously. The list of those who are authorities in the area of healthcare must include physi-cians, nurses, healthcare administrators, and an array of other professionals whose expertise is essential to the management of American healthcare organizations. Successful relationships among these professionals are based upon collaboration, trust, and a mutual sharing of values. Any form of authoritarianism which denies or rejects the integrity and professionalism of one's col- Review for Religious leagues will destroy the healthcare ministry, which can exist only in a world that does not completely share its values. The legitimate concerns of local bishops for the future of the healthcare ministry in their dioceses is obvious. In some places the institutions of Catholic healthcare are the most visible signs of the church in a diocese. Ethics committees within Catholic health-care organizations address issues that go to the heart of the mis-sion of Catholic healthcare, to the implementation of its fundamental purpose. "Directives" does not propose that the bishop or his representative be directly involved in the work of the committee. Rather, it says that there should be "appropriate stan-dards for medical ethical consultation within a particular diocese that will respecLthe diocesan bishop's pastoral responsibility as well as assist members of ethics committees to be familiar with Catholic medical ethics" (no. 3 7). The purpose of the directive can be most suitably fulfilled by the bishop's creation of a diocesan committee to inform and advise the bishop in the exercise of his stewardship of the healthcare ministry. Such diocesan committees, many of which are already in the process of formation, must be staffed by healthcare profes-sionals and theologians knowledgeable about the realities of the contemporary American healthcare delivery system. Where dio-ceses are small and lack appropriate resources or where diocesan boundaries overlap the service areas of Catholic healthcare min-istries, such committees could be established within regional or state episcopal conferences. In either case, such a committee offers the bishop the means of informing himself on the issues con-fronting the healthcare ministry before becoming directly involved. The Creation of New Partnerships Until relatively recently, Catholic healthcare organizations, like their counterparts in the overall American healthcare deliv-eW system, functioned as independent, autonomous institutions. If there were several Catholic hospitals or long-term-care facili-ties within a diocese, they existed in isolation from one another. There were few reasons for them to function conjointly. The reform of the healthcare delivery system within the United States has greatly altered this basic characteristic of the Catholic health-care ministry. Collaboration, partnerships, and alliances have replaced the earlier autonomy of American healthcare. May-June 1996 Gallagber * Ecclesioloffy of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives The many reasons underlying this ~ajor reconfiguration of the healthcare delivery system reasons already well known to sponsors, board members, and managers of Catholic he~althcare are not ~irectly germane to the purposes of this essay. The con-sequences of this realignment, 'however, are among the fundamental reastn~ for the revision of "Directives," with its emphasis on ecclesiology. The"buzzword in American healthcare is integration. A health- ~are organization, hospital, or long-term-care facility, must be integrated horizontally and vertically. Horizontal integration implies a collaboration or alliance among an array of healthcare organizati6ns that can provide all the services necessary to sustain the wellness and treat the illnesses of a covered 15opulation. Such an integrated delivery network (IDN) or organized deli,cery sys-tem (ODS) will contain primary-care and specialist physicians; ambulatory-care centers, labs and centers for diagnostic medicine, pharmacies, long-term-care facilities, and acute-care hospitals. Vertical integration, refers to the manner in which th6 IDN or ODS is aligned with a system of payers and insurance compianies that furnish the financial support for the network of providers. The stand-alone hospital or long-term-care facility has no future in a healthcare system based upon horizontal and vertical inte-gration. The question the mission and business question before every CathOlic healthcare organization over the past several years has been: With whom should it be a partner? Successful IDNs and ODSs have secured sources of revenue (payers, insurance companies)' and can offer an appropriate array of health services across a geographicalarea. Such IDNs and ODSs have set up rela-tionships with a large number of physicians, have made agree-ments with multiple providers Working together, and have entered into contracts with multiple suppliers of goods and services. These are large complex btisiness operations. Catholic healthcare orga-nizations seek either to become members of or to create such IDNs and ODSs as ways of resolving their business questions. But the presence of a Catholic healthtare organization within a viable IDN or ODS does not necegsarily ensure an appropria'te resolution to the mission quest!on. Can Catholic healthcare insti-tutions be pfir~ners with for-profit corporations? Can they be partners with institutions that provide abortions or other proce-dures that conflict with the "Ethical and Religious Directives"? Review for Religious Can the Catholic healthcare.minlstry retain its status as an instru-ment of the mission of the church in whatever sort of business,~ economic, or healthcare environment? Questions such as these are what induced the bishops to put Part 6 into "Directives" and to append their interpretation of formal and material cooperation. At the present time, Catholic healthcare organizations are developing and acting upon diverse answers to the mission question. Cardinal Bernardin is attempting to facilitate the development of an alliance among the Catholic hospitals of the Chicago archdiocese. Catholic Health Care West has created in California a statewide IDN/ODS that is composed largely of Catholic providers. In Indianapolis, St. Vincent's Hospital has created an alliance with Community Hospitals, a not-for-profit organization, in which other Catholic and non- Catholic organizations are in the process of seeking membership. Recently the Sisters of Charity of St. Augustine ~in Cleveland announced that their hospitals would be entering a partnership with Columbia/HCA, a for-profit hospital corporation. In each of these four very different IDNs/ODSs, the Catholic parties have contended that they are making a business ar}angement that is compatible with their healthcare ministry. "Directives" encourages the leaders of Catholic healthcare to consult with the local bishop and to seek his approval or nihil obstat in the creation of partnerships that will affect the organi-zati0n's mission (no. 68). This process of consultation and approval is a matter of central importance to the leadership of Catholic healthcare organizations as well as to the members of the hierar-chy. Ho~ it is to be conducted and what its goals are will be key factors in the success of such a process. Several directives touch upon issues internal to the process of consultation and approval. Directive 59 stipulates that the prin-ciples governing cooperation should be used to limit the partic-ipation of a Catholic organization in an alliance which provides services "judged morally wrong by the church." Such services, referred to elsewhere in "Directives," include abortion (no. 45), euthanasia (no. 60), direct st~erilization (no. 53), contraception The stand-alone hospital or long-term-care facility has no future in a healthcare system based upon horizontal and vertical integration. May-.]une 1996 Gallagber * Ecclesiolog~f tbe 1994 Healtbcare Directives (no. 52), and artificial fertilization that separates the unitive and procreative components of the marital act (nos. 40, 41). Scandal, the appearance of cooperating in and accepting as permissible an objectively immoral act, rnust be avoided in the partnerships entered into by Catholic healthcare ministries (no. 45). Of course, avoidance of scandal would be agreed to unhesi-tatingly by all parties to this process of consultation and approval. Scandal is a sin against charity, against the very bond that unites persons within the church. No participant in the Catholic health-° care ministry would willingly let the organization's activities be a source of scandal. The more likely discussion would focus on what, in fact, constitutes scandal. The concepts of formal and material cooperation in the evil of others have generally been the gauges used by moral theologians to make such a determination. It is at least questionable, however, whether this mode of moral reasoning will be sufficient to resolve the issues that currently confront the ministry of Catholic healthcare. The concepts of formal and material cooperation were devel-oped by theologians to resolve the qu.estion of the culpability of one person's cooperation in another's morally evil act. The clas-sic example in recent medical ethics has been the Catholic nurse who cooperates with a physician in performing an abortion. If the nurse's cooperation was simply to care for the woman after the procedure in a postoperative (post-op) area, her cooperation was generally deemed remote and material. Her actions were after the fact (remote) and incidental to the act of an abortive-proce-dure; she was simply providing care that would be provided to any post-op patient (material). Indeed, under the principles gov-erning cooperation, a nurse could assist in the abortive proce-dure by handing instruments to the physician if she did not intend the evil of abortion, was performing a task that was itself not immoral (simply handling the surgical instruments), was under duress to cooperate in the procedure (fear of loss of job), had voiced her opposition to the.' procedure, and was not repeatedly placed in this situation.12 The principles governing cooperation were developed to assist confessors in their assessment of the moral culpability of penitents coerced in some fashion to coop-erate in the evil of another. Can it be applied to the activities of healthcare institutions? Fathers James Keenan and Thomas Kopfensteiner, the authors of the appendix to "Directives" that defines the principles gov- Rewiew for Religiot~s erning cooperation, contend that such is the case.13 However, this issue requires further reflection. Certainly the decision-making processes of corporations and institutions are much more complex than those of individuals. Decision making in modem corporations and institutions is spread all through them. Corporate boards endorse or reject proposals made by CEOs and their senior man-agers; CEOs and their management teams approve or modify rec-ommendations from directors and managers. In the healthcare setting, physicians have a strong influence on decisions about healthcare delivery. Corporate decision making is the result of an ongoing, multileveled, integrated discourse that eventually reaches a decision. Although corporations and institutions are moral agents, their agency ought not be confused with that of individual persons. It will be from within the corporate structures which consti-tute the decision-making processes of the Catholic healthcare ministry that the future profile of that ministry will be discerned. If the principles governing cooperation assist some organizations in responding to the question of the manner in which their health-care ministry can be legitimately configured in an IDN/ODS, then clearly they should employ them. Many Catholic organiza-tions, however, have begun to develop processes of corporate ~dis-cernment in order to ensure'that their activities in a reconfigured delivery system will continue to be an authentic ministry in sup-port of the mission of the church. Such decision-making processes are being developed for sev-eral reasons. "Directives" (pp. 6-7) has identified some key values for the Catholic healthcare ministry, "normative principles that inform the church's health ministry": human dignity, care of the poor, the common good, stewardship of resources, and the right to refuse services inconsistent with church teaching. The first four of these principles are clearly values that leaders of Catholic healthcare can share with potential collaborators. Although these values are central to the Catholic ethical tradition, they are also readily embraced by others. Catholic healthcare personnel strive to cooperate with other providers who share these basic values. An IDN/ODS becomes an instance of the very concrete manner in which such principles become embodied in a corporate structure composed of Catholic, and non-Catholics dedicated to providing healthcare services for a community. Indeed, agreement on these values does not necessarily resolve the issue of a Catholic orga- May-~une 1996 ; Gallagber ¯ Ecclesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives nization's partnership with an organization that provides elective tubal ligations or even.abortions. But it does widen out the array of issues that are deemed relevant in determining whether~a par-ticular partnership or alliance will be acceptable to a local bishop. These fundamental values of the Catholic healthcare min-istry need to be woven into an array of complex business deci-sions. The very location of places of service will say much about an organization's commitment to care of the poor. The managed-care programs of Catholic organizations and their human-resource practices will portray their interpretation of human dignity. The various allocations of capitated dollars within a system are signs of the system's stewardship of resources. Finally, how an IDN/ODS plans for care of the poor in a nation that has growing numbers of people without health insurance and that faces pending reduc-tions in Medicare and Medicaid spending will be a witness to an important value. All of these decisions need to be made within corporate structures that will take the values central to all Catholic healthcare ministry and make them operative in a given institu-tional structure. Careful processes of discernment assist board members and the leadership of Catholic healthcare organizations to identify the explicit rationale for individual decisions. Such processes pose questions: Why are we doing this? ls this decision in support of the ministry of Catholic healthcare? Will this deci-sion not only facilitate the success of this organization as a busi-ness operation, but also enhance its ministry? In their discussion and discernment about the purpose and practice of their ministry, Catholic healthcare organizations go well beyond the principles governing cooperation. Catholic healthcare has never defined itself in negative'terms. It was not created, nor has it continued into the present, in order not to do certain things. The foundresses of Catholic healthcare and their successors endeavored to operate virtuous institutions that would serve their communities. Current and ongoing reflection by a new generation of successors sets the same positive goals and strives to choose wisely the means to accomplish them. These ~eflective processes are educational; they require that individual board members,and managers, become familiar with the values that.shape the behavior and expectations of the orga-nization. Since values like human dignity and care of the poor are part of the discourse part of what the organization talks about and how it makes its decisions new members need to Review for Religious become sensitized to these values in order to function profes-sionally within it. A culturally diverse professiona! staff can be attracted to ~'participate in the activities of a virtuoias institution that strives to embody values in its services. Their involvement in such an institution need not jeopardize their own religious con-victions. The reflective processes of corporate discernment can con-tribute to the refounding of the healthcare ministry. At this point both bi~shops and leaders of Catholic healthcare are more certain about what the healthcare ministry was than what it is or will be. Latent in all who are concerned for the future of the healthcare ministry is a longing, perhaps even an expectataon, that some wily theologian will identify the essence of Catholic healthcare so that, knowing what that essence or nature is, they can produce it and make it available. But this is not likely to be the case. Catholic healtheare in the past was built upon the religious values and commitments of women who forged a ministry in isolated railroad towns in the West and in the urban poverty of 19th-century American cities. People who practice reflective disc~i'nment together will not discover the new essence of the healthcare min- )stry, but they will invite the leaders of this ministry into a period of dialectics in which the clash of facts and values, of business realities and religious visions, wil.l give rise to a new foundation of the Catholic healthcare ministry. Reflective discernment pro-cesses are heuristic: they strive to pose questions whose answers will render the world in which we live coherent and enlivening. But Catholic healthcare is not yet in such a world. In all like-lihood, it will be some time before the healthcare ministry is securely situated on a new foundation. When that time arrives, Catholic healthcare will be distinct from what it was for most of the 20th century. Yet, in a form that is not altogether clear at this time, it will be a ministry of service and witness, of diaconia and kerygma. At present, however, American Catholic healthcare remains a pilgrim ministry that tries to read the signs of the times and find its way into the future. Notes 1 "Ethical and Religious Directives for~Catholic Health Care Services" was approved by the National Council of Catholic Bishops at their November 1994 meeting. First published in Origins 24~ no. 27 (15 December 1994): 449-462, it was afterwards published as a booklet (Washington: United States Catholic Conference, February 1995). May-yTune 1996 Ga/lagber * Ecdesiology of the 1994 Healtbcare Directives 2 Avery Dulles SJ, Models of the Church (New York: Doubleday, 1974). ~ Adam J. Maida, Church Property, Church Finances, and Church Related Corporations (St. Louis: Catholic Health Association, 1984), pp. 53-58. 4 Yves Congar Op, Lay People in the Church, trans. Donald Attwater (London: Bloomsbury Publishing Co., 1957), p, xxiv. s Philip Murnion, "The Next Steps for the Laity," Origins 25, no, 2 (1995): 30. 6 Ladislas Orsy SJ, "Structures for the Vision: An Interview with Ladislas Orsy sJ," America, 7 October 1995, p. 12. 7 See Bernard Lonergan SJ, Method in Theology (New York~ Herder and Herder, 1974), pp. 285-293. s Dulles, Models, p. 92. 9 Dulles, Models, p. 76. ~0 See K. Danner Clouser and Bernard Gert, "A Critique of Principlism," Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 15 (1990): 219-236; John Arras, "Getting Down to Cases: The Revival of Casuistry in Bioethics," Journal of Medicine and Philosophy 16 (1991): 29-52. See also Jonathan D. Moreno, Deciding Togetber: Bioetbics and Moral Consensus (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995). ~ Kevin Wildes sJ, "A Memo for the Central Office: The 'Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Health Care Services,'" Kennedy Institute of Ethics Journal 5 (1995): 138. ,2 Orville N. Griese, Catholic Ide~nti?y in Health Care: Principles and Practice (Braintree: Pope John Centei', 1987), p. 401. ~3 James Keenan and Thomas Kopfensteiner, "The Principle of Cooperation," Health Progress, April 1995, p. 24. Annunciation Having left no hint Of handkerchief or halo, Gabriel was gone. There was no other word between them needed, For she and God would grow together so, No angel would intrude. Sally Witt csJ Review for Religious GEORGE ASCHENBRENNER Abandonment That Enlivens and Sets on Fire for Mission In 'recent times mission, community, authority, and obe-dience have not always blended well in religious congre-gations. But, when a congregation carefully integrates these four elements, it possesses a healthy center of religious experience that makes possible a clarity of identity, a cohe-siveness of membership, and, most importantly, a fire for mission. This is the thesis of this article. The challenge .fa.c.ing us religious today is not simply a matter of deploy-ing members efficiendy or satisfying their ministerial pref-erences. Rather, the challenge includes a self-abandonment that renews the members' total reliance on a loving God while enlivening them and setting them on fire for mis-sion, their hearts fused together in one consecration. The issue fundamentally is religious and spiritual. Mission always has the overarching importance when-ever it is related to community, authority, .and obedience. Mission, as the very heart and meaning of any congrega-tion, ties the members into the great desires of God as revealed in Jesus. Surely more than being just a job, mis-sion draws its effectiveness from a spiritual theology, active and unitive within the hearts of all the members. At the same time, though mission has a priority over the other three elements, it can never replace any of them without George Aschenbrenner SJ is presently director of the Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth at Church Road; Box 223; Wernersville, Ptnnsylvania 19565. symposium part 2 May-j~une 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens seriously weakening the congregation's overall effectiveness and corrupting the significance of the element apparently replaced. Obedience when separated from the other three becomes an unhealthy ascetical practice, something shortsightedly in and for itself. Mission when separated from community produces a scat-ter- shot diffused effect, and community without much relation to mission narcissistically turns in upon itself. No, there is no avoiding the interrelationship of these four elements. The very identity and stability of a congregation depend upon it. A clear central integration~of these four elemeflts is as neces-sary for active as for mona~stic congregations, despite the signif-icant differences between them. In religious life today this fourfold central unity may express itself differently in the two, but it r~emains important for both.~ Though not easily accomplished, this central unity .can take on a critical importance in active con-gregations. Because it is the nature of an active community that its members be sent out and dispersed in a variety of ministries, the accomplishment of unity and a sense of felt membership can be difficult. But when the centrifugal force of ministry is not bal-anced with the appropriate centripetal force of community, the pain of disunity and loneliness can destroy the congregation. In many cases the issue addressed here touches on nothing less than the very survival of the group. After renewing a basic .supposition about religious life, I will develop a spirituality of abandonment as central to ,apostolic mis-sion. This spirituality has four different personal objects and cen. trally affects the exercise of religious government for mission. Finally, four results emerge when an appropri.ate,integration of our foursome is ~achieved. Religious Life: Essentially Corporate Existence Orders and congregations each have their own version of the evangelical imperatives of chastity, poverty, and obedience, but all of them have a corporate faith, focused in a shared vision and mission, that distinguishes religious life from other life-forms in the church. In the midst of a great variety of changes within reli-gious life, an essential corporate existence continues to play a central identifying role. And t.hough the und~erstanding of reli-gious community has shifted a lot since Vatican Council II, only some clear shared corporate vision--believed and practiced by Review for Religious all--can prevent religious life from changing into a wholly dif-ferent form. This fundamental communitarian existence stands as one identifying continuity stretching back even to Pachomius in the 4th century. At a time of shifting meanings for religious community, care must be taken not to lose the reality. Especially in the active apos-tolic model, one of the revealing signs of a religious vocation con-tinues to be a genuine desire for a shared faith and life. This must include some form of the following actions done together: shar-ing faith, praying, living, and ministering. These shared actions are not arbitrarily left to the individual's choice or whim. They con-stitute membership. So one is excused only for directly ministe-rial reasons. These commitment mechanisms ritualize in some genuine fashion the corporate vision and faith. Without such reg-ularly siiared experiences, the sense of religious community becomes ethereal and chimerical. Therefore, in some carefully understood sense, religious life is life in community, and not just on one's own. For an active religious, not to have a genuine desire to be,together in praying, living, and ministering becomes a seri-ous countersign to membership and cannot simply be tolerated. This corporate shared life has within it a dynamic impulse to public, visible expression. The life-form of a secular institute runs on~a different dynamic: to be hidden and unrecognized within the secular society. And so, ordinarily the religious life-form will stand out more than that of a secular institute. This element of public visibility gives external expression to the essential corpo-rate nature of religious life. Of cot~rse, the evangelical impera-tives, especially celibate chastity, add their own focus~to this central corporate identity. My point here is simple and clear: reli-gious life is not something done on my own and alone. It is always a shared corporate vision and existence. Mission: A Profound Spirituality and Theology Mission is a great growing concern within religious life today, and well it should be. But this great concern can be misunder-stood. In these days of second, third, and even fourth careers, more and more religious find themselves wondering "What would I like to do now?" or "What should I try after ten years of teach-ing?" Though these and similar wonders can naturally entertain our minds, they can fixate us on too superficial a level. As men- May-June 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens tioned above, mission is not finally a matter of personal preference and efficient deployment of members. Mission in religious life always catches fire in a profound the-ology and spirituality. Religious consecration gathers together and roots members in the mystery of Jesus' obedience to the great universal mission of God's love. A passionate desire for every-body to know how loved and cared for they are in the mystery of God is always burning in Jesus' heart. He is always on this mis-sion. It is his very identity. Jesus' consciousness is dominated by a sense of being sent. He never stands on his own. He never comes to do his own thing. Whatever he speaks and does and is, he receives from another. The Gospel of John makes this very clear in many passages. "I do nothing on my own authority but speak simply as my Father has taught me. The one who sent me is with me now: the Father has never left me alone, for I always do what pleases him" (Jn 8:28-29). There is a clear limit to any process of self-actualization in Jesus. This clear limit does not speak of immature dependency, but rather points to a theology and spirituality of love always aflame in his heart. The receptivity involved in Jesus' experience of mission reveals the central love affair that burns at the core of his identity. Rather than passive submission to the marching orders of some distant authority, mission for Jesus always radiates a life of love with the One he calls "my dear Father." At the heart of this love affair, a mysterious abandonment burns in an identity of perpetual ado-ration. It is an adoration that sets him afire every day for his mis-sion and finally for the fearful but well-loved completion of that mission: the great Passover of his life. He does not tell his dear Fathe~ what to do. Rather, their self-abandonment in mutual love forges such a union that Jesus, aglow in the Holy Spirit, is God's mission always burning among us. Jesus: Abandonment to His "Dear Father" In this abandonment Jesus' heart is always burning true. Sometimes he shows his love by carrying out ordinary routines, while at other times he performs deeds of high drama. All disci-ples of the great mission of God must do both kinds of things in their own lives, according to the specifics of their own personal religious experience. Review for Religious In the temple at the age of twelve, Jesus speaks a word of truth: "Didn't you know I must always be where my dear Father is?''2 This truth radiates identity for the young boy, as well as for his distraught mother and foster father. While not easily under-stood, such a word invites contemplative treasuring in their hearts. It not only cannot be contradicted, but it allur-ingly presages a mysterious future. Years later this word has become so clear in his heart as to call him away from his beloved home and mother. An urgency beckons him, an urgency to go to his cousin, the Baptizer, at the Jordan. There the fire flames forth in an enor-mously special way. A religious experience, always alive in his heart, flashes forth in a dramatic moment. A love beyond words and imagining; a Son so specially beloved and pleasing; a servant uniquely chosen for mission--in such a moment the abandonment of his life to his dear Father is so very obvious and very right. He knows that this fire in his heart has not been set by himself, but by a dear Father's loving Spirit. The original temple-word, now a clearly recognized relationship with a dear Father beloved beyond limit, becomes a guiding light all through his busy life in the midst of the people. Always he is one called and sent into the mission of every day. This special inner consciousness keeps the fire of loving aban-donment zealously aglow, ~in his heart. "I have come to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were blazing already!" (Lk 12:49). This inner fire burns finally into the completion of his bap-tism. "There is a baptism I must still receive, and how great is my distress till it is over!" (Lk 12:50). The growing paschal ful-fillment of that temple-word brings him into the great mission-ary climax of his life.-It is high drama. A mission of love plays itself out on the stage of his troubled heart, and the audience stretches into the fullness of time. In an olive grove his aware-ness that "everything is possible for you, dear Father" raises a puzzling possibility: "Take this cup away from me." But, beyond the fear and questioning of his mind, in the deepest adoring still-ness of his heart, that fire of self-abandonment faithfully burns and enlivens: "But let it be as you, not I, would have it!" This chosen servant, so much the delight of God, brings the whole mission of his life to unending fullness in the climactic Mission for Jesus always radiates a life of love with the One he calls "my dear Father." 2~lay-37~ne 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens challenge of Calvary. Though the drama and intensity of the moment is high pitch, the story is still the same: a servant aban-doning himself to the Beloved. The mission of love is now some-how complete. "It is accomplished" (Jn 19:30). "Dear Father, into your hands I give over my spirit" (Lk 23:46). Jesus, God's mission. in our midst, stripped to the simple clear essence of his identity, becomes a fire of forgiving love blazing into the fullness of time. Disciples: Sent for Missidn This enlivening fire for mission in Jesus is meant to deter-mine the missionary lives of all his disciples. A great desire for mission and evangelization sends disciples all over the world. This evangelization must always be fueled by an urgency of desire that more and more people taste the joy, freedom, and union of God's deeply personal love in Jesus, a reconciling love in which we all live and move and have our being. Disciples always bring an aston-ishing wealth of gifts, training, and experience to this mission of evangelization. This is marvelous. The cooperation and blend-ing of all these talents in any particular operation, however, is not always easy. At the heart of this sense of mission must always be the same profound identifying attitude of Jesus. An eager, ready abandon-ment in love stokes the heart's coals for the fire of mission. Such missionary eagerness comes from a burning desire to be sent, This fire for mission involves a profound attitude in faith that becomes visible in the results of an appropriate ministerial place-ment process. Daily discipleship in the great mission of Jesus always requires the stance of radical abandonment that identifies Jesus in his love affair with his dear Father. Various dangers today threaten the faith attitude and reli-gious experience needed if we are to share Jesus' burning sense of mission. In recent years many congregations have borrowed ter-minology from corporate management and social psychology to name roles played in the community's organization and struc-ture. 3 While there surely is some value in this, we must be care-ful~ of the significance of our language. Language often has an effect on us that is not immediately evident, It can .talk us into or out of certain attitudes, almost without our noticing. If we slip out of the profound faith perspective described in this article, a prophetic vision easily becomes ideological, and fire for mission Review for Religious becomes political competition. We must be careful that our words do not distract us from the realm of profound faith where the dynamics of life and love are often quite different from those of our secular society. An age still strongly individualistic, therapeutic, and security conscious keeps the focus on self and taking care of self. In ways insidiously subliminal or at least not obvious, this spirit can lead to an assertiveness that resists the abandonment that sets a person afire for mission. Especially when this therapeutic spirit seems very convincing, the dynamic of "sending oneself" can quench the red-hot coals of missionary abandonment. Such self-sending is easily justified in the heady winds of assertiveness and individ-ualism. Such self-sending often makes a person blind to any par-ticipation in the corporate vision; it blocks genuine community mediation and can even manipulate it. Such an attitude and prac-tice ~threatens our sharing in Jesus' sense of mission. The issue finally is always the same: The self-abandonment that enlivens and sets the heart on fire is itself being abandoned. An Abandonment to Whom? The abandonment described here must be an interpersonal experience of love. Though we may pledge allegiance to a flag, we can abandon ourselves only to some person who loves us. Then, when the beauty of the beloved is magnetic enough, the aban-donment becomes practically unavoidable. 'No mere cause, how-ever noble and (xciting, can affect us in this way, can move us as profound interpersonal love, engagement, and abandonment of self can. The abafidonment beyond self that participates in God's mis~- sion in Jesus always includes four loves or four ways of loving. First and foremost, we abandon ourselves into the loving hands of God. This falling 6ut of control can never be forced or strongly willed on our own. We can only be lured and seduced to it by the astonishing beauty of God's love in the fidelity of Jesus. For someone who does not feel the magnetism of that love, the aban-donment so central to this article not only will be almost unin-telligible, but will also be altogether impossible. The person may even repel any such suggestion. The continuing struggle in active apostolic congregations to integrate mission and consecration is relevant here. A certain consecration to, with, and in God is nec- May-June 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens Our hearts' desires and attentions must not focus on ourselves, but on needy people of the world. essary if mission endeavors--even fervently "prophetic" ones-- are to become more than just efficient social work. In other words, the proper integration of consecration and mission can take place only in the actual experience of abandoning ourselves to God's love so radiantly.inviting in Jesus. Second, fire for mission also involves an abandonment in com-passionate sensitivity to all sorts of needy people in our world. No impersonal cause, however rabidly espoused, will suffice. A specification and personalization of the great needs throughout our universe invites the missionary abandonment described in this article. For this aspect of the abandonment to have strong effect today, certain countercultural developments are needed. Our hearts' desires and attentions must not focus on ourselves, but on needy people of the world. This calls for gener-ous abandonment. The charism of each congre-gation must help its members to see needs in the world and then to set priorities. The charism must be alive in their hearts so that they actually address some specific needs of today, rather than simply embrace a vague universalism. A charism that is trying to do everything runs the danger finally of accomplishing nothing. Third, abandoning myself to the community of brothers or sisters who share the same religious consecration implies a belief that our corporate good is much more important than my own individual good. Community here must be, not some idealized reality, but the real people of the here and now. This aspect of abandonment for mission does not make light of my own good, but presumes the pervasive corporate identity whereby my own sense of self cannot be conceived apart from our shared life and mission together. The central energizin, g concern is we, not me. Once again, as mentioned earlier, corporate ministerial impact is what mission is about, not a scatter-shot effect of talented pro-fessional individuals. This corporate identity is not easily attained in an age of therapeutic individualism. It continues to be a major issue in religious formation today, and it must be resolved suffi-ciendy at the time of profession if candidates and communities are to have a future together. Fourth, the abandonment we are discussing will always some-how involve human mediators who specify, clarify, and incarnate Review for Religions God's loving authority in Jesus for mission. Whether these medi-ators are friends, a spiritual director, a leadership team, a provin-cial, the bishop, or the people with whom I live, mission can never be simply a matter of myself and God. The dialogue and dis-cernment stretch beyond individual limitations. Each member's discernment always assumes great importance, but is never the ultimate determining factor in the decision. In many situations human mediation is precisely the point of struggle and disagree-ment among us. Some of this struggle is an understandable reac-tion to excessively authoritarian practices of mediation in the past, but not all of it is so easily explained. Some of this reaction needs to be explored and challenged. Without settling for vague gen-eralities at this point, I want to describe some specific develop-ments in the riext section without, however, resorting to overly definitive, rigid uniformities. This brings us to the role of religious government in fostering a congregation's fire for mission. Role of Religious Government for Mission Models of religious government have gone through an enor-mous transformation since Vatican II. The diversity of develop-ment between men's and women's congregations has been striking. As we become sensitive to the enriching differences of the femi-nine and the masculine, this diversity of development is expected and is perhaps long overdue after many years in which women religious were forced into structures and models originally cre-ated for men. But some further questions surface at this point. Should the governmental models in congregations of women and men be so different? Along with some diversity that all seem happy to allow for, should there not be more similarity in the role of authority and the practice of obedience within men's and women's congregations? How do we recognize and maintain, both for women and men, a continuity of development with the past.in this area of religious authority and obedience? (Such continuity, though not easily recognized at certain junctures in the development, is always a sign of the guidance of the Holy.Spirit.) These questions are not easily answered, and I hope that together we will deal hon-esdy with them for some time. It is too easy a resolution simply to say: that is the masculine way and this is the feminine way. It is my hope that the diversity in thi.s area between the practice of men and women will be mutually challenging and enriching. May-June 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens To give authority to someone utterly without the charism of leadership will usuall not promote the corporate ministerial impact of a con regation, o A movement awayofrom hierarchical models has character-ized ma.ny congregational leadership arrangements since Vatican II. This movement was not so clearly called for in the cohncil's Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life; espe-cially in its treatment of obedience.4 Throughout all the docu-ments of the council, we can clearly find glimpses of a new "vision for the people of God that would legitimate in the Spirit-some of this movement away from a thoroughly hierarchical model. But, withgut' doubt, other waves of influence gathering force over the last thirty years have been churned up and driven along by secular winds. Strong'democratic and egalitarian presumptions have been hard at work deconstru4dng most models of ¯ authority and government. And, once tidal-wave proportions have been reached, it is hard to be concerned about nuance and degree of development and chan~e. The Ignatian model is an interesting.~xample. The original Ignatian concePtion of authority and obedience for mission was strongly hierarchical and centralized. It was this strong centralized model, of authority that made both internal cohesiveness and widespread external ministry possible. Some would view this Ignatian model as the beginning of active religious life in the ~'modern world,s Congregations of women and men claiming Ignatian 'influence and roots in their founding interpret this in quite different ways today, howe~,er much they have or have not thought through and discussed the matter. A triangular model of authority as flowing down from the pinnacle has given way to a model of much more mutual and shared responsibility. We are rediscovering the authority in each mature believing person. When well informed by the Holy Spirit and well in touch with God's people as a whole, each person is able to "author forth" as part-of God's mission of love among us. But is this individualized, egalitarian authority enough for the mis-sion of religious life in the future? If we simply let the recent decentralizing development have its way, will the. proper under-standing and practice of authority for mission just naturally emerge? I think not, Such a development implies too ethereal a Review Jbr Religious view of the Holy Spirit, as though not inviting the cooperative ohard work of human minds and hearts. Authority's triangle can-not simply be exchanged, in my opinion, for a circle composed of brothers and sisters of completely equal authority. A Model of Concentric Circles To properly integrate mission, community, authority, and obe, dience, I suggest another model for religious institutes: concen-tric circles. In the centermost circle is God revealed in Jesus with a very special authority. In the next circle are the founders and foundresses with their charismatic vision and that vision's con-tinuous development. In the next few circles would be individu-als or teams on the general or local levels who possess an authority for unity and mission beyond that of all the other members. This special authority is received both from God and from all the mem-bers through the group's ecclesially approved process of choice. This distinctive authority does not finally s~t these people off from the rest of the members. As a matter of fact, it will have effect only as contextualized within, the community of all the brothers and sisters. The people exercising such special authority are sisters and brothers to. us all. This is precisely why these cen-tral circles are placed concentrically within the largest circle, which contains all the members gathered as brothers or sisters in the one congregation. In the concentric model it is important to distinguish, but not separate, authority, leadership, and obedience.6 Authority is a canonical, juridical office of power rooted in God, not in the chancery or some Vatican office. This is a power about other per-sons for.ministry. Leadership, on the other hand, is a charism of influence and inspiration over other people. This latter cannot be legalized and institutionalized. Not everyone has this charism. Though the juridical office of authority and the personal charism of leadership can and should be distinguished, we must always work hard to keep the two in a proper balance of relationship. To give authority to someone utterly without the charism of lead-ership will usually not promote the corporate ministerial impact of a congregation. To confuse this distinction and the operative government-model in a congregation will always have its cor-rupting effect on the unity of the membership and on its shared fire for mission. That lines of authority be clear regarding who May-~nne 1996 Aschenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens exercises it and for what object is not a finicky concern for tidi-ness, but rather a strong desire for spreading fire effectively in the mission of God's love. If authority and leadership must stay in relationship, the same is true of authority and obedience. They form an essential mutual relationship. One cannot stand without the other. While author-ity invites the mature obedience of careful listening, so too must it be sensitive in careful listening to the membership's calling forth healthy mature exercise of authority. Each calls forth the other in a vitality and interrelationship always focused on greater unity.and fire for mission. The decentralizing trend in religious congregations since Vatican II has affected this interrelationship of authority, leader-ship, and obedience. It has thereby also affected the structure, appearance, and sense of belonging in many congregations: But, as we keep relating this decentralization to two other corporate values (membership and ministry) and not allow it simply to develop a life of its" own, a couple of important questions face us. How decentralized can a group become and still preserve a cohe-sive unity and an outreaching mission? How much unrefined plu-ralism can a group tolerate without losing its unity and identity? These questions not only nag at religious groups, but also affect secular organizations and are not susceptible to pat or easy answers. However, dealing with them is crucial because it keeps this decentralizing tendency in relationship with the foursome (mission, community, authority, and obedience) that provides (as this article argues) the central stability and identity of any religious congregation. One of the dangers today is that this decentralizing spirit may assume a solitary dominating influence. Religious authority, then, as exercised in the concentric gov-ernmental structure presented here, serves two major important purposes. In the first place, this authority fosters clarity and energy about the mission of God in Jesus for us here and now. Decisions are made, not simply according to individual preferences and seri- 6us individual discernments, but in light of a congregation's charis-matic identity as that has developed over years to a contemporary specification. Authority thus exercises a preserving role regarding the congregation's present specification of its identity in the mis-sion of God in Jesus. Rather than having a stifling effect, these mediators in the exercise of authority foster: fire for mission and are servants of the faithful continuity of the congregation's Review for Religious charism. Of course, they could never serve this special role with-out the energetic cooperation of us all. In the second place, this authority is especially related to the corporate unity of the group. Just as God's authority is never meant to be an oppressive ,burden, but serves toward the uplifting unity of the whole human family, so this religious authority is a unique service for love in the unity and mission of the congregation. Mediators of this authority, therefore, are special servants of the group's unity in love. Without careful, clear exercise of authority and obedience, a congrega-tion's experienced unity gets ragged and its fire for mission dims. Results of Healthy Integration The proper interrelationship of mission, community, author-ity, and obedience produces four healthy results. First, ministry is always seen as rooted in and flowing out of the Trinity. Neither empty theory nor impractic.al idealism, this profound spiritual theology must ground and animate all ministry in the church. Ministry is really God's work and not some project that we, are in sole charge of and that belongs completely to us. This vision of bedrock faith has very practical implications. The second result is one of these practical implications. This Trinitarian vision of ministry keeps in check the serious danger of finding our very identity in the ministry. To succumb to the dan-ger and identify ourselves in what we do is always to stunt the richness and profundity of our person. This is even more serious in terms of our identity in Christ. Whether consciously or uncon-sciously, letting our very identity--who we are in Christ~--be con-sumed by our hands-on daily work has serious repercussi6ns. Our view of self becomes superficial and overly pragmatic; we stub-bornly cling for dear life to our ministry. The religious experi-ence of taking genuine risks because of our reliance on God's promise in Jesus shrinks. Moreover, the physical decline of old age can bring deep frustration after many years of busy activity if we have allowed those years to teach us by osmosis this faulty maxim: The harder we work, the holier we become. As disciples called by Christ and, saved in Christ, our identity is given; it is revealed, not earned, not merited. "It is, remember, by grace and not by achievement that you are saved . It was nothing you could ordid achieve--it was God's gift of grace which saved you" (Ep 2:6, 8). May-June 1996 Ascbenbrenner ¯ Abandonment That Enlivens Jesus' death on the cross is our hope, our salvation. He is our identity beyond all others. In this greatest act of love, we find an identity so deeply rooted in God that we can be surprised; sur-prised by a ministerial availability beyond limits we had mistak-enly imposed, surprised by a ministerial effectiveness beyond our careful planning, and surprised by an experience of aging that invites an. intimacy with Jesus beyond expectation. Once again the central point of this article stands clear: Jesus' abandonment on the cross attracts us and unites us in a similar abandonment that is the core of all ministry. As a third result, when mission, community, authority, and obedience are meshing in the proper way, an invigorated sense of membership pervades the congregation. Members do not feel competitively alienated from one another in seeking, finding, and carrying out employment. Members, rather, feel part of a reality much. bigger than themselves because their individual placement in ministry somehow really involves the entire community. Their daily ministry is part of the community's whole commitment to mission, extending far beyond individual preference into the enor-mous venture of God's mission of love in Jesus for the transfor-mation of the whole universe. As a fourth result, the proper implementation of the four-some described in this article enables a congregation to pool its resources, especially financial ones, and respond to some extremely critical contemporary needs even when the work is not recom-pensed by a living wage or any salary at all. A corporate commit-ment can overcome the limiting of ministries only to those that individual members find adequate to support themselves. In this way availability for minisu'y is stretched beyond the limits of indi-vidual preference, individual job search, and individual income. In conclusion, the church throughout the world,-and espe-cially in North America, faces the tremendous missionary chal-lenge of a civil society becoming more and more secularistic, more permeated with a practical atheism. In the face of such a challenge, fear would distract our gaze and corrupt our courage. All of the church's members must respond courageously. But we religious, from the vantage point of our celibate, simple lifestyle, should be able t6 gaze and~listen together in a specially sensitive and enlightened way, always eager fo~ a self-abandonment that will enliven, not dehumanize, us and will set us on fire for mission way beyond the individual likes and dislikes. The fire of this self- Review for Religious abandonment will constantly remind us, and everybody, that God is at the heart of it all and that God's love in Jesus is the real work being done and to be done. Notes l See George Aschenbrenner sJ, "Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles," Review for Religious 45, no. 5 (September-October 1986): 653-668. 2 This is a tra~nslation of Luke 2:49 suggested by the Jesuit scripture scholar Father David Stanley in a retreat given in 1967. 3 See Ma~y Linscott SND, "The Service of Religious Authority: Reflections on Government in the Revision of Constitutions," Review for Religious 42, no. 2 (March-April 1983): 212-213. 4 Most commentators on the document notice an ambiguity within a variety of positions due to the conflicting views represented in the body 6f the council and in the commission responsible for Perfectae caritatis. See Commentary on the Documents of Vatican 11, vol. 2 (New York: Herder and Herder, 1968), pp. 301-370. s See David Knowles, From Pachqmius to Ignatius (Ox,ford: C_larendon, 1966), pp. 61-68. 6 See Mary Linscott SND, "Leadership, Authority, and Religious Government," Review for Religious 52, no. 2 (March-April 1993): 166- 193. Composition of Place With consistency, theocean disarms life's taut livery. Before the vasL I let it, like a magnet, draw away heavy-metaled worry that cages me unfree. In its place I embrac~e the gossamer interlace of sun and s,ky and foam, fit garment for a psalm by the side of the sea with ;the waves' response in holy antiphony. Anna Marie Mack SSJ May-if:tote 1996 JUDITH A. MERKLE Gathering the Fragments: New Times for Obedience an Matthew's Gospel we visit a scene with which we are all miliar, the multiplication of the loaves and fishes. Jesus, upset over the death of John the Baptist, withdraws to a quiet place. The disciples and the crowds follow him. The sick come and he heals them, even though he is filled with a sense of loss. It becomes evident the people are without sufficient food. Through strengthening the faith of the disciples, Jesus not only heals the sick but even feeds those who journeyed with him to this out-of-the- way place. At the end of the meal, the apostles gather the fragments from the feast and then continue to journey with Jesus. We too have journeyed with Jesus to what some would call an out-of-the-way place. Over the last thirty years, we as religious have set out in search of Jesus. As Perfectae caritatis states, "the religious life is intended above all else to lead those who embrace it to an imitation of Christ and to union with God" (§2). We have found Christ in prayer, in the poor, in our classrooms and emer-gency wards, on planes to Africa, and in AIDS clinics in our urban areas. We have sought union with God in the reforms of Vatican II, in the retreat movement, marching with farm workers, or pro-viding support to the elderly. We find ourselves in a new place, still seeking to listen to his word. We too have our sick with us, and we have our concerns for them. We too wonder if we have brought enough food for the Judith A. Merkle SNDdeN is in the Religious Studies Department at Niagara University. She is the author of Committed by Choice (1992) and a forthcoming book on religious life, cultural crisis, and the vows. Her address is: P.O. Box 1869; Niagara University, New York 14109. Review for Religious journey. We seek food from Jesus for these next steps of renewal, while at the same time knowing that a world on the cusp of a mil-lennium seeks new food from us. We too, like the people on the hillside, are at the end of a divine banquet. Historically we have witnessed in 19th-centnry religious life a multiplication of the loaves and fishes. In its insti-tutions, its way of organizing religious living, its powerful con-tribution to the church, and its marvelous growth, we have seen something unparalleled in church history since the 13th century. , Today we are left with only the fragments of 19th-century religious life; the fragments of the institutions they founded, the fragments of the way of life they constructed to express religious life, the fragments of their spirituality and beliefs. We can no longer go back and re-create the world they once built, and nei-ther the quality and extent of the next divine banquet nor our part in it is clear to us. There is, however, a choice before us today. We can sit on the hillside and tell stories of a wondrous event, of a former way of living religious life, remembering with nostalgia that brief moment of grandeur when God so touched our lives. We can allow our companionship to cover up our hopelessness about the times ever again being right for such a visitation. Or we can hold the fragments in our hands and ask what revelation they may hold for 'us. Why did God leave us with these fragments? Why must the disciples gather them up? As people living on fragments, we must ask, too, what the people did the day after the banquet. How did they continue their journey of faith? We know they did continue it because today we can gather in Jesus' name and we remain a people who live in this mystery. Let us, then, hold these fragments in our hands and pon-der the pain and promise in them. We will be examining expressly the vow of obedience and how, in the context of our times, it takes on new meaning. We will first discuss how religious share in the cultural crisis in our society at large, and in this way we will speak to the pain these fragments hold. Second, we will focus on obedience as affective bonding and on the life process which this involves. Here we will take heed of the promise which religious living holds in our cul-ture as we face issues of morfil decline, fragmentation, and drift. I would like to explore with you the challenge this call presents personally, congregationally, and eccle~ially. May-3~ne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments What is obedience in a social context where the rules have changed from a premodern to a modern to a postmodern mindset in a thirty-year period ? The New Situation We sha~e with others in the Western world in a new situation. of our lives. A recent book makes it clear that the United States society currently lives from moral fragments and community frag-ments only. Ours is a time of moral breakdowns, moral hope-lessness, and drift. We have looked to both economic progress and government to provide a quality life for all, but we realize more and more in the 1990s that there is nothing more important to our lives together than the regeneration that moral community can provide,l ~ Hearing this analysis as religious, we know that the moral drift in the wider cul-ture has touched us also. Thirty years ago Perfectae caritatis launched us on a path of renewal with these words: "The more ardently religious unite themselves to Christ through a self-surrender involving their entire lives~ the more vigorous becomes, the life of the church and the more abundantly .her apostolate bears fruit" (§1). But what is the shape of this self-surrender in a culture living on frag- .ments, where cultural wisdom says to find some corner of the world where your needs are met and stay there, avoiding life's larger questions and the needs of one's neigh-bor? 2 What is obedience in a social context where the rules have changed from a premodern to a modern to a postmodern mind-set in a thirty-year period? Before Vatican II, it could be argued, religious life shared many of the characteristics of premodern life. Community was based largely on a shared geography, kinship, ethnicity, and the particular territorial identity created by the institutions of 19th-century' religious life. The cloister provided a world apart, within a modern world. Vatican II brought the modern world into the cloister, and with it the emancipation, .freethinking, open future, and promise of progress that are chariacteristic of modernity.3 Religious entered into a world organized by mobility of money and work. The old institutions and the clear but at times static thinking they repre-sented gave way to the new. We welcomed this change. New Review for Religious beliefs gave moral and social coherence to our lives. Personal freedom, using one's gifts in ministry, freedom of conscience, per-sonal' development, renewed social commitment, and political reform came to the forefront Community and Identity In this rapidly changing situation, however, the type of local community which taught the virtues, values, obligations, and iden-tity of our congregations was harder to maintain. We sought to enlarge our concept of community with a greater sense of our province community and with various new forms of government at the congregational level. We argued over government, but found ourselves really arguing over community and how we belonged as we experienced growing pluralism among us. We knew that a common checkbook was not enough of a unifier in our growing diversity. But at times we imitated a culture which turned to the market and government as unifiers in the absence of weak-ening moral community.4 But we felt the incompleteness of it all. Community became largely intentional on a small scale, yet broadened to the world at the level of association and conscious-ness. In the mobility of life, community became too transitory for many and at times only an enclave of privacy,s The change brought good and bad, yet this transition has not been complete. As we discern the new times for our vow of obedience, we grabble today for a sense of identity, not just before others but among ourselves. We struggle with the identification of the lim-its of our way of life and with' questions about the appropriate moral ways of dealing with them. For moral discourse always implies boundaries and limits the stuff of community. In this we share in the moral drift of the wider culture where also there has been a weakening of centers of moral formation: family, church, community. Postmodern Challenge We have difficulty, too, with public conversations about our identity as religious because we find, unlike thirty years ago, that words such as church, sacrament, authority, and celibacy do not always have a common core of meaning among us. Years ago we argued about progressive and conservative viewpoints, but we shared a core of meaning. Today our cofiversations reveal vast differences of meaning among us. May-dTune 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments This flows from our being in a culture that lacks a broad interpretative metaphor to explain the order and meaning of the world. Beyond this lack, the uncertainty of any knowledge is widely held. The meaning of any idea is constandy in flux, and no one meaning or interpretation has any authority over another. Since people believe that one cannot know the truth, they think of "truth" as merely the momentary victor among ideas vying with one another for popular acceptance. Criticism of any and all ideas goes on and on. This is a brief description of what authors term postmodernism.6 It is also a description of where some reli-gious locate themselves. We also find a weakening in our skills for envisioning and pursuing the common good together. In a more static society, one cannot opt out of the common good, for one's own enter-tainable options are out of the question if they infringe those of another, and vice versa. In a mobile society, where community is an experience rather than a place, this face-to-face existence is weakened and along with it the ability of a group to reinforce behavior that moves beyond self-interest. We experience this in our difficulty in addressing the responsibilities and benefits of membership. ,4 Situation of Moral Hazard Charles Wilber, the economist, claims that our modern way of living separates us from one another and creates "imperfect knowledge" of one another. This in turn breaks down trust and can place us in a situation of "moral hazard." While Wilber's anal-ysis focuses on industry, I suggest that it provides a window on our experience as religious.7 A moral hazard occurs in situations where people are affected by one another's behavior. A situation is termed a moral hazard when a low trust level causes people to engage in self-defeating behaviors. An example is the distrust that can occur between an employer and employee. The employer fears that the employee is not doing her job. The employee fears that the employer will require too much work or will fire her if given the chance. In response the employee begins to withdraw and shirk her job. To remedy the situation, the employer supervises more to stop the expected laziness. If the employee could self-supervise, work would be more efficient and the company would profit. Instead, what results is a Review Jbr Religions situation where each, the employer and the employee, pursues his or her self-interest. Other individuals working in the situa-tion can observe troublesomeness growing, but no one individual can do anything about it. It becomes a climate, and a self-defeat-ing one. The result is that all individuals are worse off and the group is worse off than if they had been able to work together. Why is it so difficult in such a situation to cooperate?s Because exit is cheap and voice is expensive. Exit means to withdraw, to drop out of the conversation that would be needed to come up with a solution which serves each individual's interest and the group's interest as well. The ability to exit is facilitated by "room to move," the very meaning of a "mobile" society. Voice, on the other hand, involves the communication of one's concern to another and the willingness to work out a solution. The cost to individuals to do this often exceeds the benefits they might hope to receive. Hence, one of the two persons at odds exits. The situation of moral hazard has parallels in religious life 'today. The fragments of an earlier religious lifestyle that we live with include problematic questions about membership and the possibility of group action. We need group decision more than ever before because our problems cannot be solved by individu-als, yet our lifestyle is such that to take up the challenge of voice instead of exit is getting more and more "expensive" emotionally, spiritually, and personally. Obedience in These Times These are new times for obedience. Today the practice of obedience has to be linked to a common consciousness of one's interdependence with others, self-restraint based on a gospel life, and institutional reinforcement of those values that constrain self-interested behavior and build common meaning out of a plural-ity of experiences. Those in leadership know that government can regulate only what people allow to be regulated. Money and government are inadequate unifiers unless there is a moral com-munity based on these beliefs. Researchers today point to "affiliative decline" among reli-gious. They charge that religious lack a sense of purpose based on a belief in the meaning and viability of their way of life. This breeds a sense of disaffection or alienation. The researchers believe that congregations will decline if members have no stronger reason to remain than mere bonding.9 May-June 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments For these reasons the reclaiming of obedience today has to address issues of meaning and common commitment in a situation of pluralism. It has to further outline the path by which religious and their congregations bond the real people who are their mem-bers in the diverse situations in which they live, by shared com-mitment to and reinforcement of the values which give meaning to their lives and direction to their congregational ministry. Our language of obedience has to touch,the process by which we learn to participate--because we want to, as an affair of the heart~-in the life and mission of our congregation. We obey in the '90s:like religious before us, in imitation of Jesus, who obeyed his heavenly Father because he wanted to, out of love. He defined his whole life by this pursuit. Postmode~m means that the systems of the modern age are no longer workable. Progress, freedom of choice, and open bound-aries have not necessarily brought quality of life. We realize today that some of the systems we created in renewal are defective. We, like others in our culture, are searching for meaning, spirit, and moral direction and for new structures, policies, and organiza-tion to unify our communities. Questioning these new times of ours for obedience, there-fore, has consequences for congregational and ecclesial regener-ation as well. There is no obedience without mutuality. As we turn to obedience as affective bonding, the perspectives we gain will have ramifications for congregational response and ecclesial life. I will suggest a few of these ramifications. Obedience as Affective Bonding Obedience of the mind, or cognitive growth in one's knowl-edge of the church and the Christian mysteries, is easier to define than the path of affective bonding which the vow of obedience pri-marily involves.I° Cognitive growth can be measured by assimila-tion of important information. Formation programs, courses of study, and catechetical syllabi can put information about the church and Christian life and one's congregational spirit into a sequence of increasing complexity and hierarchy of importance. Such order-ing allows for proper intellectual formation of a religious. Affective bonding takes longer, is harder to measure, and is difficult to chart. The goal of affective learning is for persons to act as they do because it is in itself satisfying to them. Educational Review for Religious literature offers mbdels to help people reflect on the components of affective learning and bonding.To the degree that growth in obedience is a path of affective learning and bonding with God, with one's community, and with the mission of the church, :reflec-tion on such components or Stages of affective bonding can reveal important aspects of obedience today. The stages we discuss will be termed receiving, responding, valu-ing, prioritizing, and communal charac-ter/ characterization.11 Looking at them one at a time will make their meaning .and relevance clear. Receiving Obedience begins with receiving, becoming conscious of, a vocation and having a willingness to attend to people and events associated with it. All voca-tions begin with a connection: to a men-tor, to a person in a certain apostolate, to a chance advertisement, to a casual remark. Obedience begins here, long before a vow is taken. If there is any decision, it is to remain open to the sub-ject of a religious vocation. At this point there is usually no decision about the merit of the call itself. A per-son is invited to move in this stage from a consciousness of a vocation, to a willingness to receive, to a decision to give mat-ters concerning a vocation some careful attention despite com-peting choices or distractions. While receiving is a stage in obedience, it is also a recurring theme. All through religious life, there are new occasions to revisit this grace of obedience. A new member of cdmmunity is waiting to be received or a new program is being launched. New leader-ship, maybe not of one's own choosing, needs to be accepted. An intervention regarding health, retirement, or change in ministry needs to be examined. Can we even consider it? Can we receive this into our lives? Inability or refusal to "receive" one's congregational reality into one's life causes disaffection. Disaffection here is understood as an alienation from something which is important to our whole-ness or completion)2 When we make a vow of obedience, we say Our language of obedience has to touch the process by which we learn to participatem because we want to, as an affair of the heartm in the !ife and mission of our congregation. May-~une 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments we want our relationship with Jesus to happen within the con-text of this community in the church. Disaffection occurs because we are not in harmony with something which we have chosen as a life-giving relationship. Like the rich young man, we feel the sadness this creates. Congregational mail is not read, a change of ministry is never considered. Persons in authority are rejected before they act. We are living within a congregation, but not receivi ~ng it in our lives. Since obedience has ramifications for the bonding of the com-munity and its effectiveness in mission, disaffection at the. level of receiving can be contagious and can create a negative climate in a local community or a province. Congregational. Disaffection can also be caused by the inabil-ity of the congregation to receive the members. Whom do we receive today? Are we in a posture to receive new members? Do we receive our own present members, or do ageism, racism, and ideological battles cut us off from one another before we begin? Do we know how "they" think before they speak? Do we turn people off?. How do those of us in international orders receive members of cultures not our own? How do these things affect our bonding and our future? While we complain that members have "dropped out" of our congregations, how large is our own circle of inclusion? Ecclesial. In the 19th century the juridical mentality of the church regarding religious life was one of enclosure. To be a reli-gious meant to be "removed" from the world. The new congre-gations forming, however, were different from what canon law described. Hence, they required a new mentality to give them birth ecclesially. The church had to receive something with which it was not familiar. We find that new congregations of simple vows were formed over a period of a hundred years, while the main body of canon laws officially recognized as "religious" only the traditional, enclosed style of religious life.~3 A more radical dia-logue between religious life and the society produced, not the death of religious life, but a newness in its expression and form. The church had an important role in fostering this newness. What today needs to be received to allow this tradition to continue? Responding The next step in affective bonding is a response beyond mere attending to a call or invitation. In response a person does some- Review for Religious thing with, in, or,about the call, besides merely perceivin~ it~ Our first response to the call ofour vocation was to enter, to promise we would give our vocation a try. 0 Responding can begin passively as compliance and later .become voluntary. When persons begin religious life, they often do things they areasked even though the purpose of them may not seem evident at the time. Many would tell of judging early adjust-ments as "what is involved" and going along with what was asked. In order to take on the story of the community and its way of life, such a response is required. When response becomes volun-tary, an emotional response of pleasure or enjoyment occurs. .Responding to people, events, and matters of one's community is accompanied by a feeling of satisfaction. It is obvious that responding is an ongoing element in the obedience of the religious. What marks its distinctiveness is the passage from compliance to voluntary action. Compliance is a valuable obedient response .to many requests in religious life. However, it is only through voluntary action that affective bond-ing moves beyond the fragile link of compliance. The satisfac-tion that comes from voluntary'action is the free blending of the hearts and the wills, which is of the essence of obedience as affec-tive bonding. Compliance is only the handmaiden of voluntary action. Disaffection can occur at the level of responding when a per-son cannot move from compliance to voluntary action. Religious slip .if, fearing enforcement or fearing that lack of any response at all would invite emotional sanctions from. their peers, .they do only what they have to do. Disaffection sets in because in this state the religious are bereft of the normal emotional satisfaction that should come from voluntary participation in the life and mis-sion of their congregations. Congregational. The need to create meaningful avenues bf response' is key to growth in a congregation. Withdrawal breeds lack of emotional involvement, and lack of emotional involve-ment breeds withdrawal. Research claims that altruism in a group actually atrophies when it is not called forth.~4 The resources of love in a group are not fixed or limited; rather these moral resources respond positively to practice, to learning by doing, and negatively to nonpractice. This is not to recommend mak-ing~ exaggerated demands, but only to.re'commend that the group do some stretching. May-~tne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments ~'Ecclesial. The 19th century was'a ,tirfie of new needs. The tur-moil of the Industrial Revolution called ~eligious. from the clois-ter to active involvement in collective, works :of'social significance: education, social services, and healthcare:The church was called to expand its geographical reach and its ministerial presence in a society which claimed its irrelevance. The times were not unlike our own. -, 'Religious, however, ~,ere .partners with the church in meeting this crisis. Many 19th-century orders had superiors general and were not directly under the authority of a local bishop. This new jurisdictional authority in the church enabled the coordination of ministerial works which were transdiocesan and which in turn established the credibility of the church in sectors where it was not previously received,t5 Response of religious to the ,church and response of the mag-isterial church to religious have to continue this tradition for the sake of both the church and religious life, for neither ~prospers in a climate of alienation. The crisis of the 19th century stimulated the creation of a n~w authoritative identity in the church. What is needed today to. strengthen the relationship between religious and the magisterial church is 'for each to view the other novas a problem but as a partner. At this valuing stage in the process of obedience, members make it clear that membership in community is worth something to them. There is enough participation in the life and mission of orie's congregation and enough identification with its way of life so that other people readily identify the members as belonging to the group, _ A later stage of valuing consists of efforts to grow as members, Opportunities for renewal and deepening are sought out. Here there 'is an actual preference for religious life and its values. One is committed by choice. There is an investment of time and energy beyogd the minimum. Members manifest a growing conviction and loyalty regarding the values of religious life and a desire to convinceothers or at~least share their own faith experience. Here the satisfaction felt earlier as pleasure is transformed into an aroused need or drive to act and grow as members of the congregation within the ~hurch and society. There is a motivation to live the life to its fullest extent. Commitment is measured by Review for Religious the extending of such dedicated living over a period of time and by renewed desire to continue. The ongoing dynamic of obedience is shown in the act of prefei'ence.One prefers the life and mission of one's congregation over other things. One willingly considers community priorities in selection of a mission. One willingly chooses to work through a difficult community situation. One faithfully stands by someone in illness in spite of its time-consuming nature. This is the dynamic of valuing. This growth enables the member not just to par~ ticipate passively in community life, but to function actively. A~ fundamental values are owned and appropriated deeply, they also can be translated into new forms and expressions~ Congregational. Conviction regarding the life and mission of the community breeds new endeavors and investment in the worth of meaningful traditions. Dispiritedness, however, grows in a con-gregational climate of doubt about the value of the group, its authenticity, and its future. There is no longer a desire to invite new members. There are no new initiatives. There is apathy and lack of commitment to act and grow as members. People have no energy for anything but super-ficial reminiscing and required presence. This is a great danger especially in a congregational culture which has relied on com-pliance and force as its bond of membership. No one individual can treat this doubt. A~ a situation of moral hazard, it requires group ac6on and leadership. Without oppor-tunitiesto move from compliance to voluntary action, religious are not likely to deepen .their valuing of their congregational life, for they know little of the emotional satisfaction that. comes from voluntary action. Many congregations today are discussing processes of "re-membering," of calling their members to reinvest in new ways that could help them overcome the apathy and fear which threat-ens them. When such a decision of valuing occurs, it leads to the more mature obedience of the next stages. Ecdesial. The effort of the Synod to study the value of religious life was for us religious a supportive moveas we seek or explore The ongoing dynamic of obedience is shown in the act of preference. One prefers the life and mission of one's congregation over other things. May-ffTtne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments our meaning and role now and into the new millennium. We reli-gious need the affirmation of the church, not just passively, but to help us participate in its life actively and creatively within its own re-creation. On our part, what values does our experience rec-ognize as essential in spite of the rapid change we'have under-gone? What support do we need so that w& can translate these values into new fo~ms~and expressions? What do we need and what do we not need from the church? If we religious do not want our relationship to the magisterial church to be based on compliance and ~force, then we too have to do our communal work in taking hold of our future. Prioritiz~ ing As one matures in religious life, membership has to be inte-grated with other values: career goals, family relationships, beliefs, coping, with personal crises, new knowledge and experiences and opportunitie~. Religious have to see how life in community and in the church relates to other dimensions of their life. ~ The first step in prioritizing is a willingness to think issues through. The next step is to bring together a complex of values, possibly disparate values, into some semblance of order and mean-ing. Since renewal has brought a plethora :of experiences into a community, it is critical that the group be' able to sit and talk about .these new yearnings. This ability to talk,will help keep the bonds of~community realistic and centered in the present. For instance, communities can ask how members experience com-' munity when they live apart from the group. Religious need to .relate multicultural experiences, new ways of prayer, educational o'pportunities, changes in the church, mis-sion experience, and women's issues with their membership in religious community. This may require familiarity with new areas of church teaching or involvement in groups within or outside . the community that gr.apple with how the gospel and new per-sonal experiences impinge on one another. For instance, religious who are working through various types of addictive behaviors can learn together the meaning of a twelve-step program in their lives as religious. While this is, an affective process, a sharing of the heart, it also involves cognitive growth, new information, and the ability to generalize and engage in abstract thinking. It requires accu-rate information. In many instances it requires good theology. Review for Religious How do women's issues, church membership, and fidelity to reli-gious commitment relate? How is one a feminist and a member of the church? How does one integrate his desire for political reform and his commitment to the priesthood, which usually means he cannot hold public office? How does one uphold one's valuing of community life and yet reach out in a ministry that makes com-munity contact difficult? Prioritizing is an act of obedience. The organization of values as one prioritizes may result in their synthesis into new ways of membership and deeper investment in the church and community. It is obvious that prioritizing is a principal task in fol-lowing a mature religious lifecourse. Those who take on the hard work of prioritizing achieve a high result, that is, an internally consistent integration of membership in their congregation and church with other aspects of their lives. Congregational. VChen we look at the religious of the 19th century, we can see they did this prioritizing. They integrated religious commitment with an entirely new cul-ture of the Industrial Revolution. They influenced the culture and created a new expression of religious life. They distinguished themselves from "regular" cloistered religious life by collective works of social significance: education, social services, and health-care. In the eyes of the church, it was the leaving of the world which constituted the religious state. However, these religious were immersed in the world. How were they religious? They rejected the upward mobility of liberal society by differentiating their activity from other forms of work in the society. They were active in the society yet were removed by social position. They were "placed" by obedience in the works of their congregation. Their works were not those of the new profitable capitalist cor-porations, although there is evidence of scattered experiments with founding "Christian factories" to give the poor employment and a sense of Christian community.~6 We religious'today are called to the task of integrating our charism with the new situation of our culture. We still struggle with how we have left the world yet are immersed in it as a place of revelation and service. This struggle to achieve a balanced understanding will overcome the feeling of powerlessness, isola-tion, and frustration in the face of a vast and complex future. Prioritizing is an act of obedience. May-Jvtne 1996 Merkle ¯ Gathering the Fragments Those who avoid prioritizing see the choice of religious as between embracing everyday secular life as they know it and going back to a pre-Vatican life based on a religious worldview that no longer communicates, This all-or-nothing viewpoint eliminates the possibility of synthesis between the real world of everyday life and the transcendent one which prioritizing calls forth. Ecclesial. For this prioritizing to occur, there has to be a cli-mate in the church in which one can safely explore new avenues of thought and living, engaging in critical reflection and respectful dissent until the value and relationship of new ideas to the mysteries of the Christian life is.evident. Today something is perceived as credible, not just because the church says it, but because it makes human sense. Religious need to be involved in helping the church make sense to the world and the world make sense to the church. Needed church reforms such as giving women more .decision-mak-ing power cannot be ignored by religious orders if they hope at the same time to promote the credibility of the church in first-world society; nor can economic, social, and political reforms be supported only halfheartedly in poverty situations in both the first and third worlds. These corporate stances of prioritizing mark the communal path of obedience within a congregation. Communal Character/Characterization At this stage of obedience, the values of membership in their congregation have a place in the individual members' lives. The values are organized into some kind of internally consistent sys-tem and have controlled the behavior of the individual members for enough time that they are now readily seen as persons who have adopted "living the life" of the congregation. It is impor-tant to note that such a stage of obedience does not come until members have had to prioritize, that is, integrate the new dis-coveries of their gei~eration with the gospel and the founding charism. There is no "cheap grace" in religious life, and one gen-eration cannot hand on to another a ready-made commitment. At this stage of characterization, issues surrounding mem-bership no longer arofise emotion or affect except when the indi-vidual is threatened or challenged. By now .the members are described and characterized as individual persons by their iden-tification with the congregation. It has been integrated into their entire philosophy of life or worldview. To an outsider, identification with the congregation is so clear Review for Religious that it makes individual members predictable and comprehensible. The values of the community are important determiners of the way the various members approach a problem, determining what they will see as important in it. In other words, the living charism becomes a principle of ongoing and daily discernment and opens the religious to the full call of the gospel. The values of the charism will limit the things that members will take into account in attempting to find a solution .to a prob-lem. They provide a focus and an identity. They will al

MENTAL BULLYING AND ITS IMPACT TO VICTORIA DAWSON IN DANIELLE STEEL'S BIG GIRL Karina Rachmawati English Literature, Faculty of Languages and Arts, Surabaya State University rahmakarina92@gmail.com Prof. Dr. FD Kurnia, M.Pd. English Department, Faculty of Languages and Arts, Surabaya State University Abstrak Novel Big Girl adalah novel Danielle Steel yang mempunyai tema Mental Bullying dalam penulisannya. Victoria Dawson mental bullying menjadi topic utama dalam penelitian ini. Dengan demikian penelitian ini berfokus pada tiga masalah utama (1) Mental Bullying seperti apa yang dialami oleh Victoria Dawson dalam novel Big Girl oleh Danielle Steel (2) Penyebab Victoria Dawson Mental Bullying dalam novel Big Girl oleh Danielle Steel (3) Dampak Victoria Dawson Mental Bullying dalam novel Big Girl oleh Danielle Steel. Data dari tesis ini diambil dari novel sebagai sumber utama dan membaca intensif untuk langkah analisis berikutnya. Untuk menjawab semua masalah, penelitian ini menggunakan teori Psychology of Bullying untuk menggambarkan Mental Bullying, Penyebab dan Dampaknya. Penelitian kepustakaan digunakan untuk data yang dibutuhkan perguruan tinggi. analisis yang digunakan untuk menganalisis data yang dikumpulkan berdasarkan teori. Deskripsi digunakan untuk menjelaskan hasil analisis. Setelah melalui analisis yang panjang dengan menggunakan tiga macam metode di atas,Ditemukan bahwa mental bullying membawa dampak buruk bagi korban bullying karena menggunakan kata kata dan emosi untuk menghina seseorang. Korban mental bullying mengalami depresi, merasa takut, dan merasa kesepian untuk bergaul dengan orang lain dan sebagian besar dari mereka tidak mempunyai teman. Kata kunci: Bullying, Mental Bullying, Insult Abstract Big Girl is Danielle steel's novel which has Mental Bullying themes she writes on throughout her work. Victoria Dawson mental bullying has become the main topic of this study. Thus this study focuses on three major problems, (1) What mental bullying is experienced by Victoria Dawson in Danielle Steel's Big Girl, (2) What are the causes of Victoria Dawson mental bullying in Danielle Steel's Big Girl, and (3) What are the impacts of Victoria Dawson mental bullying in Danielle Steel's Big Girl. The data of the thesis is taken from the novel as the main source and intensive reading to next step of analysis. To answer the all problems, this study is using Psychology of Bullying Theory to depict the mental bullying, causes and impacts. This study also used library research, analysis and description. Library research is used to college data needed. An analysis is used to analyze the collected data based on the theories. Description is used to describe the result of analysis. After getting through long analysis by using three kinds of method above, it finds out that mental bullying bring bad impacts to victim of bullying because using words and emotions to insult someone. The mental victims of bullying are depressed, always feeling afraid and feel lonely to associate with other people and most of them has not a friend. Key words: Bullying, Mental Bullying, Insult. INTRODUCTION Many people may probably had problems. One of their problems related with psychological. Psychology term is a thing that can not be separated far from human life. Psychology terms have touched all of the aspect about human life. Everything about human life's conflict has always touched the deepest side of human's psychology condition. There must be something that related to the psychology. When somebody gets the hurt from anything, there is always a big possibility of one who get the messy thing in his mind; it could influence his internal condition such as his way of thinking, his emotional reaction, etc. For the most serious effect, they might get the trauma and also the death of somebody because they can not control the internal conflict inside their soul. One of psychological experiences in this paper is Bullying. Bullying is a serious issue that is faced by many people, and can leave a people to live in complete fear. Bullying it self mean typically a form of repeated, persistent and aggressive behaviour directed at an individual or individuals that is intended to cause (or should be known to cause) fear and distress and/or harm to another person's body, feelings, self-esteem or reputation. Bullying occurs in a context where there is a real or perceivedpower imbalance. Bullying is the use of force to intimidate someone. It can happen to anyone, anywhere and any time. It can come from a single person or a group. Bullying can be delivered verbally or in some extreme cases physically where the victim suffers actual bodily harm. Bullying behavior can be direct or indirect bullying. Direct bullying behaviors (overt) involve behaviors that are observable and that are usually expressed by physical and verbal means. Usually direct bullying involves relatively open attacks on a victim and are "in front of your face" behaviors. However, bullying behavior is not always hitting, kicking, teasing, or name calling. Children who bully others may use subversive acts that hurt just as much, but are harder to detect. Indirect bullying is related with Mental Bullying. This bullying practice occurs secretly and in the outside of our monitoring radar. Examples of indirect bullying are leaving others out on purpose, spreading rumours to destroy another's reputation or getting others to dislike another person, a cynical viewing, public humiliating, isolating, humiliating, accusing, gossiping, slandering, snapping, glaring and pouting. This is covert bullying or "behind your face" behaviours. Bullying is not just a childhood problem: it extends to adulthood, the boardroom, shop floor and the dysfunctional family. (Beane, 2003:6). It can be concluded that bullying related with mental abuse, also known as mental bullying. Mental Bullying can occur in close relationships, including parent/child relationships, marital relationships or sibling relationships. Mental bullying causes damage in the victim as she is made to believe she is worthless and at fault. Mental bullying is particularly harmful on children because of the impact it has on developing self-esteem and patterns relating to others. As mentioned above, one of the novels deals with theme Mental Bullying is Big Girl, because this study will describe about Victoria Dawson mental bullying is the main topic of Big Girl, because it's interesting for discussed through topic. Victoria Dawson experienced mental bullying when the firstborn child, she grows up out of place in her family because of her fair hair and thicker build. While the rest of her family is dark haired and thin, Victoria is blond, blue-eyed and according to her father, has his grandmother's 'big' build. Victoria puts up with her father's thinly-veiled barbs while her mother constantly drops weight remarks. Meanwhile her parents dote on the younger sister Grace, as she is beautiful and thin. In accordance of background study above, it can be simplify to discuss among three problems that emerge as significant concern toward this novel. 1. What mental bullying is experienced by Victoria Dawson in Danielle Steel's Big Girl? 2. What are the causes of Victoria Dawson mental bullying in Danielle Steel's Big Girl? 3. What are the impacts of Victoria Dawson mental bullying in Danielle Steel's Big Girl? This study will uses Psychology of Bullying theory in order to answer the question in the statement of the problems, this study tries applying theory as the base of analysis this theory is: Psychology of bullying to analyze about Victoria Dawson Mental Bullying in Danielle Steel's Big Girl. The first problem is what mental bullying is experienced by Victoria Dawson in Danielle Steel's Big Girl. This statement will use Psychology of bullying theory. with several kinds of mental bullying are; public humiliating, isolating, accusing, gossiping, slandering, snapping, embarrassed, humiliated and condescended. But of the several kinds mental bullying that have been mentioned above, which includes kinds of mental bullying that occurred and depicted to Victoria mental bullying are humiliation; embarrassed and condescended. Then the second is what are the causes of Victoria Dawson mental bullying in Danielle Steel's Big Girl. This statement will use Psychology of Bullying theory. The causes of Victoria Dawson mental bullying its come from Family factor, There are two causes that made Victoria experienced Mental Bullying from family factor; Narcissistic her parents and Being Different from her Family. And the last is What are the impacts of Victoria Dawson mental bullying in Danielle Steel's Big Girl. This statement will use Psychology of Bullying theory. The impacts of Victoria Dawson mental bullying its she feel sadness and self esteem which is there are three impacts because of Victoria feel sadness and self esteem; Search for Self Identity to New York, Struggle from her Body Image, and See a Psychiatrist. RESEARCH METHOD This thesis is regarded as a descriptive-qualitative study and use a library research. Therefore, the data will not be in number. The descriptive method of his study can be elaborated as follows. The main source of the study is taking from Danielle steel novel entitled Big Girl by Danielle steel, is an American novelist who is currently the bestselling author alive and the fourth bestselling author of all time, with over 800 million copies sold. Based in California for most of her career, Steel has produced several books a year, often juggling up to five projects at once, all her novels have been bestsellers, including those issued in hardback. Big Girl published by Delacorte Press on February 23, 2010. In analyzing the data, a descriptive qualitative method was applied. The data mostly got from library research. The data consist of the main data and additional data. The main data are collected or taken from Danielle Steel's Big Girl in the form of quotations, comments on the events and action related with the issue that is Victoria Dawson mental bullying, the causes and the Impacts of Victoria Dawson mental bullying in Big Girl. The supporting data are taking from many sources such as articles, reference books, journals, magazines, internet sources that are relevant with the topic and other related sources. Then the data are collected, clarified, analyzed and made a conclusion. To assist and strengthen the data will be analyze; Victoria Dawson mental bullying in Danielle Steel's Big Girl used Psychology of bullying, the causes and the impacts of Victoria Dawson mental bullying. Overall, those concepts are relating with the Victoria characterization in her life. This study contains four chapters. The first chapter is about introduction consist of background of the study, statement of the problem, purpose of the study, significance of the study, limitation of the study, research method and organization of the study. The second chapter is Review related of literature; consist of Psychology of bullying, Victoria Dawson mental bullying, the causes and the impacts of Victoria Dawson mental bullying, and paradigm of analysis. The third chapter is analysis about the novel Big Girl. The fourth or the last chapter in this study is conclusion of the analysis. This study encloses appendices: the biography of Danielle Steel and the synopsis of Big Girl. ANALYSIS Which the theories that are state in the previous chapter are used as a guide to accomplish it. This analysis will divided into several sub chapters. The first part in this chapter is about the Mental Bullying is experienced by Victoria Dawson in Danielle Steel's "Big Girl". The second part is about the causes of Victoria Dawson mental bullying and the last chapter about the impacts of Victoria Dawson mental bullying in the novel. Victoria Dawson Mental Bullying Bullying is emotional negative action performed against others who have traits that differ from other large groups, for example, of different races, shapes hair, skin color and so on. Bullying can be emotional done by cursing or acting intentionally using motion - a particular movement aimed to insult. (Elliot , 2005:2). One of kind bullying is related with mental abuse, and usually called with mental bullying. According to Sejiwa, (2007:2) mental bullying is a type of bullying. It is one of the most hurtful types of bullying. It is the act of using words and emotions to hurt someone. Mental bullying has two types, Verbal and Emotional. In this part it will discuss about Victoria Dawson mental bullying. To depict Victoria mental bullying, it uses Psychology of Bullying theory, with several kinds of mental bullying are; public humiliating, isolating, accusing, gossiping, slandering, snapping, embarrassed, humiliated and condescended. But of the several kinds mental bullying that have been mentioned above, which includes kinds of mental bullying that occurred and depicted to Victoria mental bullying are: Humiliation Humiliation is a kind of mental bullying that depicted to Victoria Dawson mental bullying. Big Girl tells about Victoria Dawson as the main character, she experienced mental bullying from her parents and people around her because different physical appearance than her family. Victoria parents were born from perfect physical appearance. Her father, mother and sister have the same appearance, but Victoria was different. When Victoria was a child, she experienced mental bullying from people around her and especially from her parents. In Victoria Dawson mental bullying is found quotations to depicted humiliation as kind of mental bullying. Victoria Dawson is an outcast in her own family, the round peg in a family of square holes. It is precisely her roundness that marks her as an outsider. Chubby, blond and blue-eyed in a family of slim, dark stunners, she is the daughter whom her father called "the tester cake," before getting the recipe right with younger daughter Gracie. When Victoria had a sister, Grace born with perfect physique appearance and Victoria parents satisfied with grace born. Jim always said to Victoria that she was a little tester cake. It can be seen from the quotation here: "I guess you were our little tester cake," he said, "This time we got the recipe just right," he commented happily." (p. 20) The quotation shows that Victoria is tester cake for her parent, because Victoria did not have beautiful appearance liked her parents. It made Victoria suddenly terrified that because Grace had come out so perfectly, maybe they would throw her away. She thought of what her father had said then about her being the tester cake, and wondered if it was true. Maybe they had only had her to make sure they got it right with Grace. And by then, her father still regularly teased her about being their "tester cake." Victoria knew exactly what that meant, that Grace was beautiful and she wasn't, and they had gotten it right the second time around. And her father always introduced Victoria to a business associate as his tester cake, but he also said he as proud of her, more than once, which surprised Victoria, since she never really thought that her father was proud of her. Embarrassed Embarrassed is also a kind of mental bullying that depicted to Victoria Dawson mental bullying. embarrassed occurs to others who have traits that differ from other groups or society, for example, of different races, shapes hair, skin color and so on. In this novel Victoria Dawson embarrassed by her parents and society because she had different physical appearance from her parents, she was a blond-haired, blue-eyed, chubby little girl; the complete opposite of her tall, slim, and beautiful parents. She resembled her paternal great-grandmother. She was viewed as a disappointment to her parents. Her father always referred as Queen Victoria. It can be seen from quotation here: "Jim always commented that she'd been named for Queen Victoria, whom she looked like, and then laughed heartily. It became his own favorite joke about the baby, which he was more than willing to share." (p. 10) From the quotation above, the reader know that Jim, he had perfect appearances unsatisfied with his child, Victoria. He always said that Victoria looked like Queen Victoria because she had bad appearance. And it is became his own favorite joke and he liked to share with other people. He reveals unsatisfied feeling to Victoria used jokes that made Victoria feel sad. Condescended And the last kind of mental bullying besides humiliation and embarrassed that depicted to Victoria Dawson mental bullying is condescended. Nobody likes to be condescended; when condescending person is increased endlessly it would make someone feel frustrating, annoying and humiliating. In this novel Victoria parents condescending Victoria about her physical appearance and her job and some quotations will be explained about Victoria condescending. When Victoria decided moves to New York and she want become a teacher, Victoria's choice of profession was also a source of displeasure for her father and he often told her she could do better. Victoria was a teacher for high school seniors in a prestigious private school in New York City. Instead of being proud of her as he should, her father constantly reminded her that she should get a "real job" in the business world. However, Victoria loved what she was doing and feels a true calling to be a teacher. All he had to say was that it was the wrong job in the wrong city; he usually condescended about her job because she can be poor. "You don't want to be poor for the rest of your life, do you? He said with a look of condescended." (p. 128) From the quotation above, when Victoria announced she wanted to be a teacher, her father pressures her to join him in advertising because that is where she'll earn the most money. Her father did not agree with her decision, now, her father not only insult Victoria about her physical but also condescending about her job. Tracing the quotation above, Jim refused Victoria become a teacher, he did not sure that Victoria afford to be a teacher, and he contempt that become a teacher made she to be poor and Jim did not want to subsidize Victoria. The Causes of Victoria Dawson Mental Bullying Olweus, (2004) explained that family, especially the Parents is an important factor that has a strong influence on the development of Bullying than the environments. Ahmed and Braithwaite, (2004:36) also state that family is the most influential factor in determining a person's involvement in bullying behavior. The family is the primary socializing place for children; families also have an important role in shaping a child's behavior. In the novel Big Girl, Victoria Dawson is a 6-year-old girl; for the first, she experienced mental bullying from her family when she was born And from people around her because she was a chubby little girl with blond hair, blue eyes, and ordinary looks. Victoria Dawson mental bullying occurs from family factor and there are two causes that made Victoria experienced Mental Bullying from family factor; Narcissistic her parents and Being Different from her Family. Narcissistic her parents A narcissist always hopes that people will respect himself in any situation, on other hand a narcissistic does not want to admit people's greatness but always envies someone else who seems smarter, more handsome or more successful. A narcissistic tries to impede the perception of real condition so that everything which is just belonging to one's self is highly valued and everything that belonging to another is devalued (Feist , 2002). From the explanation about Narcissistic above, the readers know about definition of narcissistic. And this one of the example causes Victoria Dawson mental bullying from family factor. In "Big Girl" Victoria Dawson is the main female character who received mental bullying because of narcissistic her parents. When Victoria twenty two years old, she go to North-western. Then she moved to New York and become an English teacher. And it made her father looked annoyed, to him; it was not even a job. He kept telling her to get a "real" job for decent money, but Victoria refused her father decisions, she still wanted to be a teacher. It can be seen from the quotation here: "I don't want to work in advertising," she said firmly. "I want to be a teacher." It was the thousandth time she'd said it to him." (p. 129) From the quotation above, we know that Victoria wanted to be a teacher, her parents belittle and mock her throughout, he disagrees with her decisions, her father forced Victoria to work in advertising because he had opinion that Victoria can not live from teacher's salaries. Her father said that Victoria can get precious job than become a teacher, she could be making three or four times what they pay to her, at any advertising agency or in any company. Jim disapproving about Victoria decisions work to private school in New York. The conclusion that Victoria parents is a narcissistic people, they just looked from handsome or beautiful and more successful perceptions and did not care with her child opinions. Quotation above explained that Victoria sister was married to a rich man was going to be a perfect complement to her father narcissism. With her ring on her finger, Grace had become a trophy proof of his success as a father, that he raised a daughter who could marry a rich man. And it made Grace no had voice and no opinions. Gracie bought into a lot of it, their lifestyle, their opinions, their politics, and their philosophies about life. Narcissistic her parents is the causes Victoria experienced mental bullying from her parents. Being Different from her family Being different from her family is the other example of causes mental bullying from family factor that Victoria experienced. Victoria Dawson is a main female character in "Big Girl" she was born from perfect physical appearance; Jim Dawson (Victoria father) was handsome from the day he was born. . He was tall for his age, had a perfect physical. Christine Dawson (Victoria Mother) she was petite and slim with hair and eyes as dark as his, and skin like Snow White. And Grace (Victoria Sister) she really a pretty girl like her mother. When she was a year old, she grew into a beautiful baby, Grace and her parents have the same appearance but Victoria was different from her family. She was naturally a big girl, liked her paternal great-grandmother, and her breasts made her like heavier. She had an hourglass figure that would have worked well in another era. It can be seen from the quotation here: "Victoria was different; she had a square look to her, a bigger frame, and broad shoulders for a child." (p. 28) From the quotation above, Victoria was born different with her family, both her parents and grace had thin frames, her father was tall and her mother and the baby were delicate and fine boned and had small frames. Grace and her parent have the same appearance, Victoria was different, and she look liked her grand mother that has big body. Victoria always become mockery from people around her, in her school, the teacher also mocked Victoria about her physical, Victoria feel that she really born different from her family. We can take conclusion that Victoria always feel that she was the galoshes because she had big body and she did not same with her family, her parent and sister are thin. And they like an apple, orange and banana but Victoria was always galoshes in her family and it is causes that made Victoria experienced mental bullying from her parent and people around her. The Impacts of Victoria Dawson mental bullying Bullying is a major social problem that can have serious effects on the wellbeing of young people. Many studies have suggested that greater frequency and severity of bullying is associated with poorer psychological wellbeing and with adjustment problems in later life. Difficulties later in life, such as family or workplace violence, may be more likely if the person is a bully- victim. Of the several impact of mental bullying that has been mentioned in review of related literature, which include that impacts of mental bullying that occurs in the character of Victoria is she feel sadness and self esteem. Victoria feel Sadness and self esteem; sadness is different to depression, as when people feel sad the feelings often pass in time but with depression they might not. Bullying can make people feel sad and lead to depression. People who are bullied are at more risk of depression and suicide attempts than those who are not being bullied. And Self esteem is Bullies often attack victims self esteem through verbal harassment and social exclusion. Individuals who are consistently berated and excluded by bullies may begin to believe that the bully's personal insults are true. (http://bullyingendshere.ca/EFFECTS_OF_BULLYING.html). When Victoria child, she experienced mental bullying especially from her parents. Victoria parents always embarrassed; humiliation; and condescending Victoria. In her society, Victoria also get name calling from people around her. And it made Victoria feel sadness and undermined her self-esteem, which is there are three impacts because of Victoria feel sadness and self esteem are: Search for self identity to New York Search for self identity to New York is an example from the impacts of Victoria Dawson feel sadness. Victoria Dawson always experienced mental bullying from people around her, because physical appearance. She had different physical appearance from her parent. Because her parents and people around her embarrassed, gossiping and give name calling to Victoria about physical appearance, Victoria feel suppressed and unwelcome they had made her feel for so long. Gracie was liked their only Child and she feel like the family stray dog. She did not even look like them, and she could not take it anymore. Growing up being the 'tester cake' is not easy, and even though Victoria is intelligent and ambitious, she is constantly reminded that men did not want smart girls. When Victoria finally moved out to go to college, each visit to her parents results in her dad's teasing and her mother weight-related questions. At least with her new life in New York, where Victoria is soon to be employed as a teacher, she can escaped from her family and finally start a new life in which she is accepted as who she is. Gracie had parents who worshipped and adored her, and supported her every move and decision. That was heady stuff. And she had no reason to rebel against them, or even separate from them. She did everything their father thought she should. He was her idol. And Victoria had parents who ignored her, ridiculed her, and never approved of a single move she made. Victoria had good reason to moved far away "She was willing to push herself out of her comfort zone if it meant finding herself at last, and the place where she belonged. All she knew now was that it wasn't here, with them. No matter how hard she had tried, she just wasn't like them." (p.62) Victoria leaved her cruel family in Los Angeles to become an English teacher at one of Manhattan's swankest private high schools. From the quotation above, we know that Victoria wanted to push herself out of her comfort zone, to finding herself, because they always made fun of her and diminished and dismissed her. They always made her feel unwanted and not really good enough for them. So she decided to become an English teacher at New York. The conclusion from analysis about Search for self identity to New York is Victoria decided to move to New York to fulfill her dreams and escape her family. She ready to start her new life in which she is accepted as who she is. And though her new life is exciting, the old temptations remain, and she continues to wage war with the scales. Victoria struggles to find a life far from the hurt and neglect of her childhood, the damage created by her parents, the courage to find freedom, and become who she really is at last. Struggle from her Body Image Struggle from her body image is a second example of the impacts Victoria Dawson experienced mental bullying. That makes Big Girl fascinating is how it chronicles Victoria struggles with her weight. Victoria becomes known as their tester cake, an experiment allowing them to get the recipe right the second time. She receives years of put-downs from her narcissistic father, and her mother ignores the comments, often adding her own advice as to how Victoria could make more of her looks and maybe someday get a man. The main character, Victoria, struggles with her weight, body image and self-esteem from childhood. Her parents frequently criticize her and favor her younger, thinner sister. As a consequence, Victoria constantly battles her weight, trying different diets and exercise programs, only to slide back into comfort eating when her parents upset her. It can be seen from the quotation here: "The summer before Victoria entered high school she went on her first diet, she had seen an ad for an herbal tea in the back of a magazine, and sent away for it with her allowance. The ad said that it was guaranteed to make her lose ten pounds, and she wanted to enter high school looking thinner and more sophisticated than she had in middle school." (p. 34) From the quotation above we know that Victoria Dawson had a big body and she unsatisfied with her body and she felt sad. So, she went on her first diet, she want looking thin and more sophisticated likes Victoria's sister Grace, the beautiful anger and the perfect replica of her parents is at the center of attraction in this family. We can take the conclusion that Victoria really wants struggles with her weight, Victoria parents frequently criticize her about her weight, and Victoria constantly battles her weight. Victoria really wants to look thin and reflected her family, so she did everything possible in order to lose her weight. She attempting diets, failing diets, trying at the gym, putting the weight back on, and getting therapy and surgery her nose. Finally, she gets a nose job to increase her self-worth. See a Psychiatrist People who bully others may also benefit from therapy, though they may be reluctant to acknowledge their bullying behavior openly. In therapy, bullies may begin to understand the impact their hurtful behavior has on others, explore reasons for why they bully, learn new skills for communicating positively with others, and/or address personal experiences that may have contributed to their bullying behavior. Often bullies have unresolved personal wounds that contribute to their bullying behavior, and addressing these emotional wounds or identity/social issues in therapy can be an integral step towards stopping bullying behavior. (http://www.goodtherapy.org/therapy-forbullying.html). And the last example of the impacts Victoria experienced mental bullying is she see a psychiatrist. "Big Girl" tells the story about a young woman who has been made to feel different because she does not look like her family all her life. Victoria Dawson was considered too big boned and heavy in her family and for most of her life, she was made to feel different and inadequate. She was also made to feel unloved, unlovable, and ugly. Her parents were of a different time and were very narcissistic. Her father was the kind of man who would make comments about something but make it out to be a joke, but the comments, even though joking, her mother was not much better and followed along with whatever her husband did and said. And it is hurt and would make Victoria feel like she was worth nothing for many years. When she got back to New York, she was disheartened by the things her parents had said, and the weight she had put back on, and because Harlan suggestion she see a psychiatrist. At the first time Victoria meet the psychiatrist, she asked few details about Victoria and her family background. It can be seen from quotation here: "She asked Victoria a few details about where she had grown up, where she had gone to school, and college, how many siblings she had and if her parents were still married or divorced." (p.234) From the quotation above, we know that Victoria really see a psychiatrist because suggestion from Harlan. Although in the beginning she feel agonized and afraid, she afraid if the women discovered that she was crazy. When she asked few details about Victoria, all the question is easy to answer for Victoria, especially when she answered the question about Grace, Victoria lit up like a light bulb when she answered the question about having a sibling, and then described her and how beautiful she was. From analysis about see a psychiatrist, we can take the conclusion that Victoria feel sadness and father joke is hurt her heart. So, she see a psychiatrist because Harlan suggestion. And after she sees a psychiatrist she feels free than before, she had been entirely open and honest with her. She had a feeling that she had opened a door that afternoon and let the light into the dark corners of her heart. CONCLUSION The conclusion is divided into two in This Study is about the main female character, Victoria Dawson from the novel "Big Girl" based on the statement of the problem. In analyzing the character, this study uses Psychology of Bullying theory. There are three statements of problem; What mental bullying is experienced by Victoria Dawson in Danielle Steel's Big Girl, What are the causes of Victoria Dawson mental bullying in Danielle Steel's Big Girl and What are the impacts of Victoria Dawson mental bullying in Danielle Steel's Big Girl. Those questions have been answered in the analysis. Victoria Dawson mental bullying is the main topic has been explained detail based on the theory above. As explained in the review of related literature there are several kind of mental bullying, But of the several kinds mental bullying that have been mentioned, which includes the kinds of mental bullying that depicted to Victoria Dawson mental bullying are; Humiliation, Embarrassed and Condescended. And the first explanation has used those three kinds of mental bullying to analyzing Victoria Mental Bullying. As seen in the novel, Victoria Dawson as the main character, she experienced mental bullying from her parents and people around her because different physical appearance than her family. Victoria parents were born from perfect physical appearance. Her father, mother and sister have the same appearance, but Victoria was different. When Victoria was a child, she experienced mental bullying from people around her and especially from her parents and three kind of mental bullying that have been mentioned its occurs to Victoria Dawson. In the second explanation, this study discusses about the causes of Victoria Dawson mental bullying. The causes of Victoria Dawson mental bullying its come from Family factor, There are two causes that made Victoria experienced Mental Bullying from family factor; Narcissistic her parents and Being Different from her Family. Victoria Dawson is a 6-year-old girl; for the first, she experienced mental bullying from her family when she was born And from people around her because she was a chubby little girl with blond hair, blue eyes, and ordinary looks, Victoria Dawson has always felt out of place in her family, because narcissistic her parents and she was being different from her family especially in body-conscious. And the last explanation discusses about the Impact of Victoria Dawson Mental Bullying. The impacts of Victoria Dawson mental bullying its she feel sadness and self esteem which is there are three impacts because of Victoria feel sadness and self esteem; Search for Self Identity to New York, Struggle from her Body Image, and See a Psychiatrist. Mental Bullying that Victoria experienced from her parents and people around her brings many impacts to Victoria, She feel sad, not confident and lonely. So, she decided to search self identity to New York, Struggle from her body and See a Psychiatrist to fulfil her dream, raised her self esteem and wants to look thin and reflected with her family. REFERENCE Ahmed, E. & Braithwaite, V. (2004). Bullying and Victimization. Causes of Concern for Both Families and Schools. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Beane, A. (1999). Facts about bullies/victims and preventive advice. United States: Free Spirit Publishing Inc. Beane Allan L., Ph.D. (2003). Bully Free Program. Helpful Fact Sheets for Parents. United States: Free Spirit Publishing Inc. DeHaan, Laura Ph.D. (2009). Bullies. United States: NDSU. Elliot, Michele. (2005). Bullying Wise Guides. New York: Hodder Children's Books. Feist, Jess, and Gregory J. Feist. (2002). Theories of Personality 5th ed. Boston: MC Graw Hall. Olweus, Dan. (1993). Bullying at School. What we know and what we can do. London: Blackwell Publishing. Olweus, Dan. (2004). Bullying at School. London: Blackwell Publishing. Sejiwa. (2007). Bullying panduan bagi orang tua dan guru. Jakarta: Grasindo. Steel, Daniell. (2010). Big Girl. United States: Delacorte Press Publisher. Sullivan, Keith. (2000). The Anti Bullying Handbook. London: Oxford University. Internet Source: (http: Bullyingendshere.ca/ Effect of Bullying. Html) Accessed in 14th 2013 (http: Selfishness and Narcissism in Family Relationships - article by Dr. Lynne Namka.html) Accessed in February 2013 (http: Goodtherapy.org) Accessed in 12th 2013 (http: What causes bullying.html) Accessed in 11th 2014

Córdoba es la segunda ciudad más poblada de la Argentina, y posee el ejido municipal más extenso del país, siendo un importante centro industrial y de servicios del centro del país. Es además la cabecera de la segunda región metropolitana argentina, el Área Metropolitana de Córdoba (AMCBA). Si bien el desarrollo de sus áreas centrales y periurbanas es un tema bastante desarrollado académicamente, actualmente hay un vacío de conocimiento en la situación actual de las áreas pericentrales e intermedias de esta ciudad -aun cuando ocupan más del 30% del área urbanizada y donde habita la mayor parte de su población-. Es en estas áreas donde se ubica el objeto de estudio de esta tesis: los barrios pericentrales que forman un anillo alrededor del área central. Originados como extensiones suburbanas alrededor de 1940, y consolidados como barrios residenciales de clase media y media alta de baja densidad antes de 1970, ocupan lo que son hoy algunas de las áreas con mejor calidad ambiental y urbana de la ciudad. Los barrios pericentrales son considerados generalmente consolidados y estables; sin embargo, analizados en detalle, muestran complejas transformaciones: un vaciamiento poblacional constante, a pesar del crecimiento demográfico en general de Córdoba y el AMCBA; aumento de inmuebles abandonados; y a diferencia de sectores en una similar posición, no son objeto de grandes inversiones inmobiliarias de renovación urbana. Esta situación es invisibilizada, en parte por ser resultado de procesos con poco impacto relativo en la ciudad, y en parte porque estos procesos no están contemplados por los modelos urbanos locales vigentes –basados en la teoría racionalista y determinista de principios del siglo XX-, que conceptualizan a los barrios pericentrales como una "panacea urbana". Esta tesis puso en disputa estos modelos, partiendo de la discusión sobre un fenómeno informal detectado indefectiblemente (aunque no exclusivamente) en estos barrios pericentrales: la microdensificación emergente. La imposibilidad de colocar los inmuebles existentes en el mercado hace que los propietarios busquen nuevas formas de valorizar sus propiedades, de facilitar el acceso a la vivienda a sus hijos o de invertir sus ahorros de forma segura, obteniendo una fuente adicional de ingresos: en cada parcela edificada se aumenta la cantidad de unidades funcionales, aprovechando la superficie construible vacante o refuncionalizando las construcciones obsoletas, aunque manteniendo el grano y la escala de intervención respecto al tejido existente. La oferta de hábitat en estos barrios se diversifica, y no sólo evita la expulsión de población, sino que también atrae a nuevos habitantes. Además, en un tejido originalmente sólo residencial, incorpora actividades de comercio y servicios que enriquecen el tejido funcional. El proceso se realiza sin planificación general (y por supuesto fuera del marco legal): es la suma de acciones individuales que se reconstruyen como una "tendencia" o "patrón emergente", revitalizando el tejido urbano de forma sutil pero definitiva. Se planteó como hipótesis que la microdensificación emergente es un proceso de revitalización que aprovecha el potencial del tejido de estos barrios de forma más sostenible y eficiente que el modelo impuesto formalmente. 10 La tesis se encuadró bajo el enfoque sistémico de la complejidad. Este enfoque entiende a la ciudad como un sistema complejo y dinámico, en desarrollo constante; determinado más por las interrelaciones entre sus componentes y entre esos componentes y el contexto, que por las condiciones de cada elemento individualmente. La calidad y cantidad de estas interacciones es primordial, al punto de definir la condición urbana de una aglomeración. Según estas premisas, un sistema urbano sostenible y eficiente será aquel que, maximizando recursos materiales y humanos (y de acuerdo a la capacidad de carga del sistema) desarrolle de redes de intercambio múltiples, diversas y descentralizadas, que generen procesos de sinergia y desarrollo inclusivos. La investigación se estructuró entonces de forma tal de responder las siguientes preguntas: • En primer lugar, ¿cuáles son las condiciones específicas que catalizan la microdensificación en los barrios pericentrales de Córdoba? • Siendo la microdensificación una respuesta a una situación particular dentro del sistema urbano, ¿Cuál es el grado de sostenibilidad y eficiencia que aporta a los barrios pericentrales (en particular) y a Córdoba (en general)? • Y tras haber identificado su impacto en la estructura urbana, su potencial transformador y organizativo, ¿puede el estudio de los procesos emergentes hacer un aporte conceptual e instrumental a los modelos locales de planeamiento urbano? Primeramente, un análisis documental reconstruyó la condición específica de los barrios pericentrales, y el escenario actual de Córdoba con respecto a la producción y acceso al hábitat urbano. Luego se infirió un escenario tendencial a corto y mediano plazo, que sirvió para definir distintos patrones de territorialización, incluyendo el patrón "formal" de los barrios pericentrales. Se continuó con el análisis específico de la microdensificación, proponiendo un escenario posible a mediano plazo donde el patrón de microdensificación ha sido plenamente desarrollado, transformando cuali y cuantitativamente el tejido espacio-funcional y socioeconómico. A partir de estos resultados, se realizó un análisis comparativo de los distintos patrones de desarrollo urbano de Córdoba en cuanto a su sostenibilidad y eficiencia. Se demostró que el patrón de microdensificación en los barrios pericentrales es mucho más sostenible y eficiente que los patrones formales existentes, y se abrió la discusión que se desarrolla en la última parte de esta tesis: El argumento desarrollado en esta investigación y los resultados que de él se desprenden tienen un carácter analítico y explicativo útil para el análisis de otros escenarios en el contexto urbano argentino y latinoamericano. En primer lugar, sobre preferir la revitalización progresiva frente a la renovación total o la creación de nuevo suelo urbano en la periferia; promover una ciudad compacta, diversa e inclusiva tanto social como funcionalmente; basada en la multiplicación y diversificación de los agentes productores de ciudad; que considera estos procesos, así como los mecanismos de empoderamiento, participación y gobernanza como instrumentos para lograr mayor sostenibilidad y eficiencia en el desarrollo urbano. Por otro lado, esta tesis puso en relevancia el rol de los procesos emergentes en un sistema urbano como mecanismo vital para generar esta revitalización. Finalmente, se discute el aporte del enfoque sistémico para comprender, explicar y proponer intervenciones a la disciplina. ; Córdoba ist die Hauptstadt der gleichnamigen Provinz im Nordosten Argentiniens. Sie ist der Mittelpunkt der zweitgrößten Metropolregion des Landes (bekannt unter der spanischen Abkürzung AMCBA) und ein wichtiges kulturelles und wirtschaftliches Zentrum des Landes. Derzeit scheint die Stadt durch zwei gegensätzlichen Prozesse geprägt, die zeitgleich von statten gehen: Einerseits die Erneuerung des Zentralbereichs und der Umgebung durch Hyperverdichtung, mit dem damit verbundenen Verlust des sozialen und architektonischen Erbes und dem Zusammenbruch der vorhandenen Infrastruktur-Netzwerke. Anderseits die Expansion der gebauten Stadt auf ländliche und industrielle Gebiete der städtischen Peripherie, was aufgrund einer abnehmenden Belegungsdichte immer mehr zu einer Verdünnung der Stadtstruktur führt. Darüber hinaus konzentriert sich der Wohnungsbau auf immer kleinere Gruppen und dies obwohl sich sowohl der Wohnungsbau beschleunigt als auch das Angebot an urbanen Wohnräumen erhöht: Während private Immobilienprojekte fast ausschließlich auf Bevölkerungsgruppen mit hohem Einkommen und Investoren, die nicht in der Stadt wohnen, ausgerichtet sind, sind die staatlichen Investitionen im sozialen Wohnungsbau ausschließlich für die Bevölkerungsgruppen mit den niedrigsten Einkommen bestimmt. Dadurch entsteht ein Defizit an Wohnangeboten für die Mittelschicht Córdobas, die fast 45% der Stadtbevölkerung ausmacht. Diese Schwerpunktsetzung ist auch bei lokalen Stadtforschern und Stadtplanern zu erkennen. Die aktuelle Situation der perizentralen Gebiete und Zwischenbereiche der Stadt sind weniger präsent, obgleich diese mehr als 30 % der urbanisierten Stadtfläche einnehmen und von der Mehrheit der Stadtbevölkerung bewohnt werden. Um diese Wissenslücke zu schließen, stehen die perizentralen Stadtviertel, die das Stadtzentrum umschließen, im Mittelpunkt dieser Arbeit. Sie sind ab 1940 als Erweiterungen der Vorstadt entstanden und etablierten sich im Laufe der 1960er Jahre als Wohngebiete mit einer geringen Bevölkerungsdichte, die heute von der Mittelschicht bewohnt werden und die höchste Umweltqualität und urbane Qualität der Stadt aufweisen. Die Gesetzgebung begrenzt dabei die Bebauung der Grundstücke auf Einfamilienhäusern, um die gewünschte geringe Bevölkerungsdichte beizubehalten. Man könnte die Untersuchung von bereits konsolidierten und stabilen urbanen Sektoren als sinnlos betrachten. Doch, wenn sie im Detail analysiert werden, zeigen sich komplexe demografische, räumliche und funktionale Transformationen, die von Interesse sind. Obwohl sich über die Jahre hinweg in diesen Stadtvierteln das bis zu diesem Moment angeblich "perfekteste" Wohnmodell materialisiert hat, nämlich ein Modell, welches "alle möglichen städtischen Wohnbedürfnisse erfüllt", leidet das soziale Gefüge und die bebaute Umwelt darunter. Das aktuelle Szenario zeigt, trotz des demografischen Wachstums von Cordoba und der Metropolregion AMCBA, einen konstanten Bevölkerungsrückgang in diesen Stadtvierteln: Junge Leute verlassen die Wohngegenden, während die zurückbleibende Bevölkerung altert und die Anzahl an verlassenen Gebäude stetig steigt. Für die auf dem Immobilienmarkt angebotenen Gebäude ist es schwierig, den Immobilienwert zu halten geschweige denn Käufer zu finden. Im Gegensatz zu anderen Bereichen der Stadt, die sich in einer ähnlichen Position befinden, sind diese Stadtviertel nicht im Fokus großer Immobilienaktivitäten. Dies widerspricht ihrer privilegierten Lage innerhalb der Stadtstruktur. 2 Diese Entwicklungen wurden lange Zeit übersehen. Zum einen da sie das Ergebnis von Prozessen sind, die wenig Auswirkungen auf die Stadt haben und zum anderen weil diese Prozesse in den heutigen lokalen städtischen Wohnmodellen nicht berücksichtigt werden, welche auf rationalistischen und deterministischen Theorien aus dem Anfang des 20. Jahrhunderts basieren und diese perizentralen Stadtviertel als städtisches Allheilmittel betrachten. Es ist unmöglich eine Hypothese abzuleiten, die aktuelle oder zukünftige Szenarios der perizentralen Stadtviertel in Córdoba unter diesen Rahmenbedingungen erklärt. Daher stellt diese Arbeit solche Modelle und ihre Fähigkeit, die Entwicklung der Stadt zu erklären oder in ihr effektiv zu arbeiten, in Frage und schlägt einen theoretischen Rahmen vor, der zum Verständnis, zur Erklärung und zur effektiven Umsetzung in der Stadt beitragen soll. Dies erfolgt auf Grundlage der Auseinandersetzung mit einem informellen Phänomen, welches deutlich (aber nicht ausschließlich) in diesen perizentralen Stadtvierteln erkennbar ist: die aufkommende Mikroverdichtung. Aufgrund der bereits genannten Unmöglichkeit, existierende Immobilien gewinnbringend auf den Markt zu bringen, suchen Eigentümer neue Wege, um ihr Wohneigentum aufzuwerten, ihren Kindern den Zugang zu einer Wohnung zu erleichtern oder ihre Ersparnisse sicher zu investieren und sich dadurch eine zusätzliche Einnahmequelle außerhalb des traditionellen Immobilienmarktes zu sichern. Aus diesem Grund erhöhen die Eigentümer die Anzahl der funktionalen Einheiten auf ihrem Grundstück, indem sie freie Fläche bebauen oder veraltete Konstruktionen renovieren. Das Stadtgefüge wird dabei durch diese Eingriffe nicht tiefgreifend verändert. Des Weiteren wird das Wohnraumangebot in diesen Stadtvierteln umfangreicher und verhindert nicht nur die Verdrängung der alten Bewohner, sondern zieht auch neue an. Auch werden dem ursprünglichen Wohngebiet zusätzliche nicht-residentielle Nutzungen hinzugefügt, die das Stadtgefüge bereichern. Letztendlich hat die Mikroverdichtung der perizentralen Nachbarschaften eine spezielle Eigenschaft, und zwar seinen emergenten / aufkommenden Zustand: Der Prozess erfolgt ohne allgemeine Planung (und auch außerhalb des rechtlichen Rahmens). Hauptakteure dieses Wandels sind die Eigentümer selbst, die ohne jegliche vorherige Absprachen agieren. Ob aus Notwendigkeit oder aus Opportunismus heraus, es handelt sich dabei um einen fragmentierten Prozess. Es beinhaltet eine Vielzahl individueller Aktionen, die als ein "Trend" oder "neu aufkommendes Muster" innerhalb der allgemeinen Organisation der perizentralen Stadtviertel zu begreifen sind und das Stadtgefüge auf subtile aber endgültige Art und Weise erneuern. Die vorliegende Arbeit stellt die Hypothese auf, dass die aufkommende Mikroverdichtung in diesen Stadtvierteln von Córdoba ein Revitalisierungsprozess ist, der das Potenzial des Stadtgefüges nachhaltiger und effizienter nutzt als das formell auferlegte Stadtentwicklungsmodell. Aufgrund des offenkundigen Gegensatzes zwischen dieser Hypothese und den aktuellen Rahmenbedingungen der lokalen Stadtentwicklung, ist es notwendig, einen theoretischen Rahmen zu schaffen, der die offensichtlichen Widersprüche auflöst und die Arbeitshypothese einrahmt. Diese These ordnet sich dem systemischen Ansatz der Komplexität zu, der analytischen Erforschung von komplexen Systemen. Dieser theoretische Rahmen ermöglicht, die aufkommenden Prozesse als integraler Bestandteil einer Stadt (ein "urbanes System"), seine Entwicklung im Laufe der Zeit, seine Komplexität und die Faktoren, von denen die urbane Nachhaltigkeit und Effizienz abhängen, zu erklären. Der systemische Ansatz begreift die Stadt als ein komplexes und dynamisches System in ständiger Entwicklung; ein System, das eher durch die Wechselbeziehungen zwischen seinen Komponenten und zwischen diesen und dem Kontext bestimmt wird, als durch den einzelnen Zustand jedes Elements. Die Qualität und Quantität dieser Interaktionen steht dabei an erster Stelle und definiert sogar den urbanen Zustand eines Ballungsgebietes. Urbanität ist nicht allein durch ihre Größe oder ihre Dichte gegeben, sondern ist gemäß der Synergie definiert, die durch eine Vielzahl an verschiedenen Interaktionen und Wech3 selwirkungen zwischen unterschiedlichen Akteuren produziert wird. Dieser Prozess heißt Synoikismos. Die Entfaltung der technologischen, sozialen und politischen Entwicklungen und Innovationen, die den städtischen Zustand charakterisieren, ist das inhärente Ergebnis dieser Interaktionen und eine direkte Funktion ihrer Intensität, Vielfalt und Redundanz, sowohl räumlich als auch zeitlich. Laut diesen Voraussetzungen ist ein nachhaltiges und effizientes Städtesystem eines, das durch die Maximierung der menschlichen und materiellen Ressourcen (und der Systembelastbarkeit entsprechend) mehrere unterschiedliche und dezentrale Austauschnetzwerke entwickelt, die inklusive Synergie- und Entwicklungsprozesse erzeugen. Dies bedeutet zum einen eine energieeffiziente Stadt, auch effizient im Konsum jeglicher Ressourcen und zum anderen eine kompakte Stadt, welche mehrere Begegnungen zwischen verschiedenen Akteuren ermöglicht, die Beteiligung an politischen Mechanismen und die intensive Nutzung des öffentlichen Raums, die Fußgängermobilität und eine funktionale und soziale Vielfalt in der Stadt fördert. Dies schließt auch Flexibilität und Anpassungsfähigkeit an Veränderungen durch Widerstands- oder Transformationsprozesse ein. Laut den lokalen Stadtentwicklungsmodellen, sind aufkommende und informelle Prozesse, wie die Mikroverdichtung, ein Zeichen der Krise im städtischen System: Anomalien, die durch die Entwicklung von schädlichen Prozessen im Konflikt mit dem Rest der Stadtstruktur entstanden sind. Konflikte, die sogar zum Zusammenbruch führen können. Laut dem theoretischen Ansatz dieser Arbeit jedoch, können diese Prozesse auch als Versuch des Systems verstanden werden, sich selbst zu regulieren und sich an neue Situationen anzupassen: Als Antwort auf ein ungelöstes Spannungsszenario; eine Art und Weise, in der das System sich selbst organisiert, um auf diese Spannung zu reagieren, indem ein neues Gleichgewicht gesucht wird. Die Arbeit strukturiert sich anhand von diesem theoretischen Rahmen, um die folgenden Fragen beantworten zu können: • Erstens, welche besonderen Rahmenbedingungen führen zu der aufkommenden Mikroverdichtung in den perizentralen Stadtvierteln in Córdoba? • Begreift man die Mikroverdichtung als Antwort auf eine bestimmte Situation innerhalb des städtischen Systems, stellt sich folgende zweite Frage: Welches Ausmaß an Nachhaltigkeit und Effizienz ermöglichen die Prozesse der Mikroverdichtung in den perizentralen Stadtvierteln im Speziellen und in Córdoba im Allgemeinen? • Nach der Identifizierung der Auswirkungen dieser Prozesse auf die Stadtstruktur, sowie des damit einhergehenden transformativen und organisatorischen Potenzials steht die dritte Frage im Raum: Kann die Erforschung von aufkommenden Prozessen dieser Art einen konzeptionellen und instrumentellen Beitrag zur lokalen Stadtplanung leisten? Um diesen Fragen nachzugehen wurde im weiteren Verlauf der Forschung eine Dokumentenanalyse durchgeführt, um den spezifischen Zustand der perizentralen Stadtviertel, der das Phänomen der aufkommenden Mikroverdichtung ermöglicht, zu rekonstruieren. Diese Analyse vollzog sich in zwei Schritten: Als Erstes wurden die perizentralen Stadtviertel und der Grund für ihr besonderes Urbanisierungsmuster historisch rekonstruiert und dadurch als (nahezu) monofunktionelle Wohnviertel mit einer geringen Bevölkerungsdichte identifiziert. Als Zweites wurde das aktuelle urbane Szenario Córdobas hinsichtlich der Produktion von und dem Zugang zu städtischem Habitat analysiert, um urbane, regionale und globale Variablen zu entwickeln, die die Entwicklungstrends der Stadt bestimmen. Dieses Vorgehen ermöglichte die Formulierung eines umfassendes Arguments, das alle Prozesse erklärt, die bisher als "gleichzeitig aber widersprüchlich" erfasst wurden. Darüber hinaus erklärt und prognostiziert dieses Argument die "undenkbare" Situation von perizentralen Stadtvierteln. Nach der Rekonstruktion des aktuellen Szenarios wurde ein kurzes und mittelfristiges (10 Jahren) Trendszenario des Phänomens abgeleitet. Dies diente dazu, die unterschiedlichen 4 Entwicklungsmuster in Córdoba zu vergleichen und deren Auswirkungen auf die Stadtstruktur zu bewerten. Im weiteren Verlauf der Arbeit wurde die Analyse der Mikroverdichtung hinsichtlich der Veränderungen im sozialen, funktionalen und räumlichen Stadtgefüge fortgeführt. Als Ergebnis wurde ein mögliches Zukunftsszenario vorgeschlagen, bei dem das Muster der Mikroverdichtung formalisiert und somit das räumlich-funktionale und sozioökonomische Gefüge der Stadtviertel transformiert wurde. Anschließend wurden das Potenzial und die Stärken (und Schwächen) gegenüber dem mittelfristigen Trendszenario von Córdoba und den perizentralen Stadtvierteln spezifiziert. Basierend auf diesen Ergebnissen wurden verschiedene Stadtentwicklungsmuster von Córdoba mithilfe der Variablen analysiert, die als strukturelle Bedingungen für Nachhaltigkeit und Effizienz definiert waren. Mit dem Ergebnis, dass die Nachhaltigkeit und die Effizienz der Mikroverdichtungsszenarien deutlich größer war als in den aktuellen Trendszenarien. Die vorliegende Analyse konnte somit die Hypothese dieser Arbeit belegen. Im letzten Abschnitt der Arbeit wurde der Diskussionsteil eröffnet. Die erste Diskussion befasste sich mit der Entwicklung, die eine progressive Revitalisierung fördert anstatt einer vollständigen Erneuerung des Stadtgefüges oder der Schaffung von neuem städtischem Land in der ruralen Peripherie der Stadt. Zudem fördert sie sowohl auf soziale, räumliche als auch funktionale Art und Weise eine kompakte, vielfältige und integrative Stadt. Diese Entwicklung beruht auf der Multiplikation und Diversifizierung der Akteure, die im Städtebau involviert sind, und betrachtet diese Prozesse, sowie die Ermächtigungs-, Beteiligungs- und Staatsführungsmechanismen als Instrumente zur Erlangung einer größeren Nachhaltigkeit und Effizienz in der Stadtentwicklung. Das bedeutet, eine Stadt, die in der Lage ist, kreativere Synergien zu schaffen und so zu sozialen, technologischen und wirtschaftlichen Vorteilen kommt. Des Weiteren betonte diese Arbeit die Rolle der aufkommenden Prozesse in einem städtischen System. Die aufkommende Mikroverdichtung hat wenig Einfluss auf die städtische Struktur von Córdoba. Jedoch ist es ein wichtiger Mechanismus, um die Verarmung und den Verlust von Ressourcen in perizentralen Bereichen und Zwischengebieten zu verhindern, d.h. um den partiellen Zusammenbruch der städtischen Struktur zu vermeiden und gleichzeitig Urbanität in Gebieten zu schaffen, die als bloße Wohnungsviertel charakterisiert sind. In der Stadtplanung ist es wichtig, auf aufkommende Prozesse in der Stadtentwicklung und auf die Erzeugung von Synergien Wert zu legen. Ihre Einbeziehung in die kritische Analyse beinhaltet die Entwicklung von Planungsinstrumenten, die nicht nur die Notwendigkeit der Dezentralisierung der Stadtentwicklung und der Entscheidungsfindung erkennen können, sondern die auch in der Lage sind, die Ungewissheit als Variable zu integrieren. Darüber hinaus müssen sie flexibel genug sein, um Veränderungen und die Notwendigkeit für Korrekturen und Anpassungen im Laufe der Zeit zu erkennen. Das Argument dieser Arbeit hat einen analytischen und erklärenden Charakter, der für die Analyse von anderen urbanen Szenarien in Argentinien und Lateinamerika nützlich ist. Dies ermöglicht die Verallgemeinerung sowohl der Ergebnisse als auch der theoretischen Annäherung an städtische Phänomene, basierend auf dem Stadt-Verständnis als komplexes, für ihre Umgebung offenes System, welches weit entfernt vom Gleichgewicht ist. Der größte Beitrag dieser Arbeit zur Urbanistik ist das Verständnis der Rolle der aufkommenden Phänomene und die Analyse der Widersprüche und Spannungen innerhalb der traditionellen lokalen Stadtmodelle, die auch Ausgrenzungen und Ungerechtigkeit im Zugang zu Stadt hervorhebt. Die Rolle des Staates und des Immobilienmarktes in der Stadtentwicklung von Cordoba wurde denaturiert und eine dialektische Artikulation der Logik des territorialen Lebensraumes in der Stadt, die sowohl Produktions- und Zugangsstrategien als auch die scheinbaren Widersprüche in der Stadtentwicklung der lateinamerikanischen mittelgroßen Städten erklärt, wurde vorgeschlagen. ; Córdoba is the capital of the province of Córdoba, in Argentina. It is also the principal city of the second-most populous metropolitan area of the country, the Greater Córdoba Metropolitan Area (AMCBA according to its acronym in Spanish), with strengths in business, automotive industry, culture, education, and research. Currently, the city seems to develop in two simultaneous and opposing processes: On the one hand, renovation by densification of the central area and its extensions, with losses of social and built heritage, and the collapse of infrastructure networks that this entails. On the other hand, extension of the urbanized area over rural and industrial periphery, with dwindling occupancy densities that dilute the urban structure more and more in the territory. Besides that, although housing production accelerates -increasing its supply-, it is concentrated in ever smaller groups: while real estate projects are targeted almost exclusively at high-income sectors and investors who do not live in the city, State investment in social housing is allocated exclusively to lower income sectors. This situation produces a deficit in proposals aimed at the so-called "middle class", even though it makes up of almost 45% of the city´s population. In addition, these processes concentrate the interest of the greater part of both local academics and urban planners. This situation produces a knowledge gap in the current situation of Córdoba´s pericentral and intermediate areas, which occupy more than 30% of the city´s urbanized land (and where the majority of this city´s inhabitants reside). It is there where this thesis´ case study is located: the pericentral districts that surround the central area. They originated as suburban extensions around 1940, and consolidated as middle-class/low-density residential neighborhoods before 1970. Today, they occupy some of the best environmental and urban quality areas of the city. Even land-use regulation specifically limits occupancy to single-family dwellings on individual plots to maintain the desired low-density residential neighborhood pattern. We can discuss the futility of studying urban sectors considered already consolidated and stable; however, when analyzed in detail, pericentral areas show complex demographic, spatial, and functional transformations that contradict this characterization: Despite the fact that these neighborhoods materializes the supposedly "most perfect" residential model known until now, a model "that solves each and every one of the urban-life needs", its social and built fabric resents. The current scenario shows a constant population-shrinking process, in spite of the demographic growth of both Córdoba and the AMCBA. Young people leaves these neighborhoods, while the remaining population ages. Abandoned buildings constantly increase; the ones offered in the real estate market have difficulties to find buyers, or even to maintain their price, which contradicts its privileged status within the city. At the same time -and unlike areas in a similar position- these neighborhoods are not the object of major real estate investments. Local academics and urban planners overlook this situation, in part because it is the result of processes with relative less impact in the city, and in part because these processes are not covered by current local urban models -based on the rationalist and deterministic urban theory of early 20th century-, which conceptualize suburban neigh6 borhoods as an urban panacea. It is impossible to deduce a hypothesis that explains the current nor the trend scenario of pericentral neighborhoods of Córdoba in terms of that framework. Therefore, this thesis discussed those theoretical models, and its capacity to explain Córdoba´s development. It proposed a theoretical framework that allowed understanding, explaining, and operating effectively in the city. It did so based on the discussion of an informal phenomenon unfailingly (but not exclusively) detected in pericentral neighborhoods: the emergent micro-densification. Given the impossibility of advantageously placing their properties in the housing market -due to factors such as land-use restrictions, and specific conditions of the local real estate market-, the landowners seek new ways to valorize their properties, facilitate access to housing for their children, or profitably invest their savings, obtaining an additional income outside the "traditional" real estate market. They increase the number of functional units in their plots, occupying the vacant building area or refurbishing obsolete constructions, while maintaining the intervention scale in relation to the existing urban fabric. These neighborhoods´ housing supply diversifies; and it not only prevents the expulsion of population, but it also attracts new inhabitants. In addition, in an originally residential fabric, it incorporates non-residential activities that enrich the urban fabric. Finally, micro-densification in pericentral neighborhoods presents a differential quality: its "emergent" condition. The process carries out without general planning (and of course outside the legal framework); inhabitants/landowners decide to do so, without any prior agreement. It is an atomized and fragmented process, result of necessity or opportunism. It is the sum of individual actions reconstructed as a "trend", or an "emerging pattern" within the general organization of pericentral neighborhoods, revitalizing the urban fabric in a subtle but definitive way. This research hypothesized that emergent micro-densification in these neighborhoods is a process of revitalization that harnesses the potential of their urban fabric; it does so in a more sustainable and efficient way than the current urban development patterns. Faced with the manifest opposition between this hypothesis and the current local urFaced with the manifest opposition between this hypothesis and the current local urban development framework, it was necessary to construct a theoretical framework able to solve the apparent contradictions detected -that the latter cannot explain-, and frame the working hypothesis. Therefore, this thesis is framed under the systemic complexity approach, that is, the analytical study of complex systems. This theoretical framework has the capacity to explain emergent processes as integral part of a city, its development over time, its complexity, and the factors on which urban sustainability and efficiency depend. The systemic approach understands the city as a complex and dynamic system, in constant development; a system determined more by interrelationships between its components, and between those components and the context, than by the individual conditions of each component. The quality and quantity of these interactions is paramount, to the point of defining the urban condition of a human agglomeration in the territory: urbanity is not given merely by the size or density of a human agglomeration; it is defined in terms of the synergy produced by a large number of different interactions between different agents; a process called synekism. The generation of innovation, and technological/social/political development that characterize the urban condition is an inherent result of these interactions, and a direct function of the intensity, diversity, and redundancy of them in the territory, over time. 7 A sustainable and efficient urban system will be one that, by maximizing material and human resources (and according to the system´s load capacity), develops decentralized, multi-exchange networks; one capable of generating synergy and inclusive development. This implies an energy efficient city, but also efficient in the consumption of any type of resources; a compact city, which prioritizes participatory political mechanisms and intensive use of public spaces, but also pedestrian mobility, and functional and social diversity. It also implies flexibility and adaptability in the face of changes, through processes of resilience or transformation. According to local urban development models, emergent and informal processes such as micro-densification are a sign of crisis within the urban system: anomalies due to the development of harmful processes, in conflict with the rest of the urban structure; conflicts that may even lead to the city´s collapse. But according to the theoretical approach proposed in this thesis, these processes can also be identified as an attempt by the system to self-regulate and adapt to new situations: as a response to a scenario of tension; a way in which the system self-organizes, and responds to that tension seeking a new equilibrium. The research is then structured in order to answer the following questions: • First, what are the specific conditions that catalyze micro-densification in the pericentral neighborhoods of Córdoba? • Second, since micro-densification is a response to a particular situation within the urban system, what is the degree of sustainability and efficiency that transformations through micro-densification provides to pericentral neighborhoods (in particular) and to Córdoba (in general)? • Finally, having identified the impact of such processes on the urban structure, and its transformative and organizational potential, can the study of emergent processes make a conceptual or instrumental contribution to local urban planning? The research continued with a document analysis that reconstructs the specific condition of pericentral neighborhoods of Córdoba -which catalyzes the phenomenon of emergent micro-densification-. This stage developed in two parts: In the first place, we historically reconstruct pericentral neighborhoods of Córdoba, and the reasons for their urbanization pattern, which consolidates them as residential, (virtually) mono-functional, low-density, middle-class neighborhoods. Secondly, we analyzed Córdoba´s current scenario -with respect to the production and access to urban habitat- establishing urban, regional, and global variables that determine the city´s current development trends. This analysis allowed us to develop a comprehensive argument that explains all the processes that until now were conceptualized as "simultaneous but contradictory". It also explains and predicts the "unthinkable" situation of pericentral neighborhoods. After reconstructing the current scenario and defining different development patterns in Córdoba (including the "formal" pericentral neighborhoods´ pattern), we inferred a trend scenario in the short and medium term (10 years). We continued analyzing the micro-densification phenomenon, in terms of its social, functional, and spatial urban fabric transformations. As a result, a possible future scenario was proposed in which the micro-densification pattern has been formalized, transforming qualitatively and quantitatively the spatial-functional and socio-economic fabric. We specified their potential and strengths (as well as their weaknesses), against the future trend scenario of Córdoba and the pericentral neighborhoods. 8 Based on these results, we analyzed the different urban development patterns in Córdoba according to the variables defined as structural conditions of sustainability and efficiency: The sustainability and efficiency of the micro-densification scenario are much greater than those of the current trends scenario. Therefore, we verified the working hypothesis, and opened the discussion of this thesis. A first line of discussion dealt with development that fosters progressive revitalization, instead of complete renewal of urban fabric, or creation of new urban land on city´s rural periphery. Development that promotes a compact, diverse, and inclusive city, both socially, spatially and functionally; based on the multiplication and diversification of city-building agents. Development that considers these processes, as well as the mechanisms of empowerment, participation, and governance as instruments to achieve greater sustainability and efficiency in urban development. A city capable of generating more creative synergy, which translates into social, technological, and economic benefits. We denatured both the role of the State and the real estate market in the urban development of Córdoba; we proposed a dialectical articulation of different logics of urban development, explaining both the production and access strategies to habitat, and the apparent contradictions in urban development of Latin American middle cities. This thesis´ argument has an analytical and explanatory character, useful for analyzing other urban systems in Argentina and Latin America. It allows the generalization of both the results and the theoretical approach to urban phenomena, understanding the city as a complex system open to its surroundings and far from equilibrium. On the other hand, this thesis emphasized the role of emergent processes in an urban system. So far, emergent micro-densification has little impact on Córdoba´s urban structure. However, it is a vital mechanism to prevent pauperization and loss of resources in pericentral and intermediate urban areas -that is to say, to avoid the partial collapse of the urban structure-, while generating urbanity in areas characterized as mere residential fragments. It is essential to give importance in urban development and in generation of synergy to emergent processes. Incorporating them into critical analysis and diagnosis involves developing planning tools capable not only of recognizing the need to decentralize urban development and sharing decision-making, but also capable of incorporating uncertainty as a variable. In addition, they must be flexible enough to detect changes and the need for adjustment and adaptation over time. This thesis makes its greatest contribution to urban studies by helping to understand the role of emergent phenomena, highlighting contradictions and tensions within the traditional local urban models, and exclusions and inequities driven by those models.

Córdoba es la segunda ciudad más poblada de la Argentina, y posee el ejido municipal más extenso del país, siendo un importante centro industrial y de servicios del centro del país. Es además la cabecera de la segunda región metropolitana argentina, el Área Metropolitana de Córdoba (AMCBA). Si bien el desarrollo de sus áreas centrales y periurbanas es un tema bastante desarrollado académicamente, actualmente hay un vacío de conocimiento en la situación actual de las áreas pericentrales e intermedias de esta ciudad -aun cuando ocupan más del 30% del área urbanizada y donde habita la mayor parte de su población-. Es en estas áreas donde se ubica el objeto de estudio de esta tesis: los barrios pericentrales que forman un anillo alrededor del área central. Originados como extensiones suburbanas alrededor de 1940, y consolidados como barrios residenciales de clase media y media alta de baja densidad antes de 1970, ocupan lo que son hoy algunas de las áreas con mejor calidad ambiental y urbana de la ciudad. Los barrios pericentrales son considerados generalmente consolidados y estables; sin embargo, analizados en detalle, muestran complejas transformaciones: un vaciamiento poblacional constante, a pesar del crecimiento demográfico en general de Córdoba y el AMCBA; aumento de inmuebles abandonados; y a diferencia de sectores en una similar posición, no son objeto de grandes inversiones inmobiliarias de renovación urbana. Esta situación es invisibilizada, en parte por ser resultado de procesos con poco impacto relativo en la ciudad, y en parte porque estos procesos no están contemplados por los modelos urbanos locales vigentes –basados en la teoría racionalista y determinista de principios del siglo XX-, que conceptualizan a los barrios pericentrales como una "panacea urbana". Esta tesis puso en disputa estos modelos, partiendo de la discusión sobre un fenómeno informal detectado indefectiblemente (aunque no exclusivamente) en estos barrios pericentrales: la microdensificación emergente. La imposibilidad de colocar los inmuebles existentes en el mercado hace que los propietarios busquen nuevas formas de valorizar sus propiedades, de facilitar el acceso a la vivienda a sus hijos o de invertir sus ahorros de forma segura, obteniendo una fuente adicional de ingresos: en cada parcela edificada se aumenta la cantidad de unidades funcionales, aprovechando la superficie construible vacante o refuncionalizando las construcciones obsoletas, aunque manteniendo el grano y la escala de intervención respecto al tejido existente. La oferta de hábitat en estos barrios se diversifica, y no sólo evita la expulsión de población, sino que también atrae a nuevos habitantes. Además, en un tejido originalmente sólo residencial, incorpora actividades de comercio y servicios que enriquecen el tejido funcional. El proceso se realiza sin planificación general (y por supuesto fuera del marco legal): es la suma de acciones individuales que se reconstruyen como una "tendencia" o "patrón emergente", revitalizando el tejido urbano de forma sutil pero definitiva. Se planteó como hipótesis que la microdensificación emergente es un proceso de revitalización que aprovecha el potencial del tejido de estos barrios de forma más sostenible y eficiente que el modelo impuesto formalmente. 10 La tesis se encuadró bajo el enfoque sistémico de la complejidad. Este enfoque entiende a la ciudad como un sistema complejo y dinámico, en desarrollo constante; determinado más por las interrelaciones entre sus componentes y entre esos componentes y el contexto, que por las condiciones de cada elemento individualmente. La calidad y cantidad de estas interacciones es primordial, al punto de definir la condición urbana de una aglomeración. Según estas premisas, un sistema urbano sostenible y eficiente será aquel que, maximizando recursos materiales y humanos (y de acuerdo a la capacidad de carga del sistema) desarrolle de redes de intercambio múltiples, diversas y descentralizadas, que generen procesos de sinergia y desarrollo inclusivos. La investigación se estructuró entonces de forma tal de responder las siguientes preguntas: • En primer lugar, ¿cuáles son las condiciones específicas que catalizan la microdensificación en los barrios pericentrales de Córdoba? • Siendo la microdensificación una respuesta a una situación particular dentro del sistema urbano, ¿Cuál es el grado de sostenibilidad y eficiencia que aporta a los barrios pericentrales (en particular) y a Córdoba (en general)? • Y tras haber identificado su impacto en la estructura urbana, su potencial transformador y organizativo, ¿puede el estudio de los procesos emergentes hacer un aporte conceptual e instrumental a los modelos locales de planeamiento urbano? Primeramente, un análisis documental reconstruyó la condición específica de los barrios pericentrales, y el escenario actual de Córdoba con respecto a la producción y acceso al hábitat urbano. Luego se infirió un escenario tendencial a corto y mediano plazo, que sirvió para definir distintos patrones de territorialización, incluyendo el patrón "formal" de los barrios pericentrales. Se continuó con el análisis específico de la microdensificación, proponiendo un escenario posible a mediano plazo donde el patrón de microdensificación ha sido plenamente desarrollado, transformando cuali y cuantitativamente el tejido espacio-funcional y socioeconómico. A partir de estos resultados, se realizó un análisis comparativo de los distintos patrones de desarrollo urbano de Córdoba en cuanto a su sostenibilidad y eficiencia. Se demostró que el patrón de microdensificación en los barrios pericentrales es mucho más sostenible y eficiente que los patrones formales existentes, y se abrió la discusión que se desarrolla en la última parte de esta tesis: El argumento desarrollado en esta investigación y los resultados que de él se desprenden tienen un carácter analítico y explicativo útil para el análisis de otros escenarios en el contexto urbano argentino y latinoamericano. En primer lugar, sobre preferir la revitalización progresiva frente a la renovación total o la creación de nuevo suelo urbano en la periferia; promover una ciudad compacta, diversa e inclusiva tanto social como funcionalmente; basada en la multiplicación y diversificación de los agentes productores de ciudad; que considera estos procesos, así como los mecanismos de empoderamiento, participación y gobernanza como instrumentos para lograr mayor sostenibilidad y eficiencia en el desarrollo urbano. Por otro lado, esta tesis puso en relevancia el rol de los procesos emergentes en un sistema urbano como mecanismo vital para generar esta revitalización. Finalmente, se discute el aporte del enfoque sistémico para comprender, explicar y proponer intervenciones a la disciplina. ; Córdoba ist die Hauptstadt der gleichnamigen Provinz im Nordosten Argentiniens. Sie ist der Mittelpunkt der zweitgrößten Metropolregion des Landes (bekannt unter der spanischen Abkürzung AMCBA) und ein wichtiges kulturelles und wirtschaftliches Zentrum des Landes. Derzeit scheint die Stadt durch zwei gegensätzlichen Prozesse geprägt, die zeitgleich von statten gehen: Einerseits die Erneuerung des Zentralbereichs und der Umgebung durch Hyperverdichtung, mit dem damit verbundenen Verlust des sozialen und architektonischen Erbes und dem Zusammenbruch der vorhandenen Infrastruktur-Netzwerke. Anderseits die Expansion der gebauten Stadt auf ländliche und industrielle Gebiete der städtischen Peripherie, was aufgrund einer abnehmenden Belegungsdichte immer mehr zu einer Verdünnung der Stadtstruktur führt. Darüber hinaus konzentriert sich der Wohnungsbau auf immer kleinere Gruppen und dies obwohl sich sowohl der Wohnungsbau beschleunigt als auch das Angebot an urbanen Wohnräumen erhöht: Während private Immobilienprojekte fast ausschließlich auf Bevölkerungsgruppen mit hohem Einkommen und Investoren, die nicht in der Stadt wohnen, ausgerichtet sind, sind die staatlichen Investitionen im sozialen Wohnungsbau ausschließlich für die Bevölkerungsgruppen mit den niedrigsten Einkommen bestimmt. Dadurch entsteht ein Defizit an Wohnangeboten für die Mittelschicht Córdobas, die fast 45% der Stadtbevölkerung ausmacht. Diese Schwerpunktsetzung ist auch bei lokalen Stadtforschern und Stadtplanern zu erkennen. Die aktuelle Situation der perizentralen Gebiete und Zwischenbereiche der Stadt sind weniger präsent, obgleich diese mehr als 30 % der urbanisierten Stadtfläche einnehmen und von der Mehrheit der Stadtbevölkerung bewohnt werden. Um diese Wissenslücke zu schließen, stehen die perizentralen Stadtviertel, die das Stadtzentrum umschließen, im Mittelpunkt dieser Arbeit. Sie sind ab 1940 als Erweiterungen der Vorstadt entstanden und etablierten sich im Laufe der 1960er Jahre als Wohngebiete mit einer geringen Bevölkerungsdichte, die heute von der Mittelschicht bewohnt werden und die höchste Umweltqualität und urbane Qualität der Stadt aufweisen. Die Gesetzgebung begrenzt dabei die Bebauung der Grundstücke auf Einfamilienhäusern, um die gewünschte geringe Bevölkerungsdichte beizubehalten. Man könnte die Untersuchung von bereits konsolidierten und stabilen urbanen Sektoren als sinnlos betrachten. Doch, wenn sie im Detail analysiert werden, zeigen sich komplexe demografische, räumliche und funktionale Transformationen, die von Interesse sind. Obwohl sich über die Jahre hinweg in diesen Stadtvierteln das bis zu diesem Moment angeblich "perfekteste" Wohnmodell materialisiert hat, nämlich ein Modell, welches "alle möglichen städtischen Wohnbedürfnisse erfüllt", leidet das soziale Gefüge und die bebaute Umwelt darunter. Das aktuelle Szenario zeigt, trotz des demografischen Wachstums von Cordoba und der Metropolregion AMCBA, einen konstanten Bevölkerungsrückgang in diesen Stadtvierteln: Junge Leute verlassen die Wohngegenden, während die zurückbleibende Bevölkerung altert und die Anzahl an verlassenen Gebäude stetig steigt. Für die auf dem Immobilienmarkt angebotenen Gebäude ist es schwierig, den Immobilienwert zu halten geschweige denn Käufer zu finden. Im Gegensatz zu anderen Bereichen der Stadt, die sich in einer ähnlichen Position befinden, sind diese Stadtviertel nicht im Fokus großer Immobilienaktivitäten. Dies widerspricht ihrer privilegierten Lage innerhalb der Stadtstruktur. 2 Diese Entwicklungen wurden lange Zeit übersehen. Zum einen da sie das Ergebnis von Prozessen sind, die wenig Auswirkungen auf die Stadt haben und zum anderen weil diese Prozesse in den heutigen lokalen städtischen Wohnmodellen nicht berücksichtigt werden, welche auf rationalistischen und deterministischen Theorien aus dem Anfang des 20. Jahrhunderts basieren und diese perizentralen Stadtviertel als städtisches Allheilmittel betrachten. Es ist unmöglich eine Hypothese abzuleiten, die aktuelle oder zukünftige Szenarios der perizentralen Stadtviertel in Córdoba unter diesen Rahmenbedingungen erklärt. Daher stellt diese Arbeit solche Modelle und ihre Fähigkeit, die Entwicklung der Stadt zu erklären oder in ihr effektiv zu arbeiten, in Frage und schlägt einen theoretischen Rahmen vor, der zum Verständnis, zur Erklärung und zur effektiven Umsetzung in der Stadt beitragen soll. Dies erfolgt auf Grundlage der Auseinandersetzung mit einem informellen Phänomen, welches deutlich (aber nicht ausschließlich) in diesen perizentralen Stadtvierteln erkennbar ist: die aufkommende Mikroverdichtung. Aufgrund der bereits genannten Unmöglichkeit, existierende Immobilien gewinnbringend auf den Markt zu bringen, suchen Eigentümer neue Wege, um ihr Wohneigentum aufzuwerten, ihren Kindern den Zugang zu einer Wohnung zu erleichtern oder ihre Ersparnisse sicher zu investieren und sich dadurch eine zusätzliche Einnahmequelle außerhalb des traditionellen Immobilienmarktes zu sichern. Aus diesem Grund erhöhen die Eigentümer die Anzahl der funktionalen Einheiten auf ihrem Grundstück, indem sie freie Fläche bebauen oder veraltete Konstruktionen renovieren. Das Stadtgefüge wird dabei durch diese Eingriffe nicht tiefgreifend verändert. Des Weiteren wird das Wohnraumangebot in diesen Stadtvierteln umfangreicher und verhindert nicht nur die Verdrängung der alten Bewohner, sondern zieht auch neue an. Auch werden dem ursprünglichen Wohngebiet zusätzliche nicht-residentielle Nutzungen hinzugefügt, die das Stadtgefüge bereichern. Letztendlich hat die Mikroverdichtung der perizentralen Nachbarschaften eine spezielle Eigenschaft, und zwar seinen emergenten / aufkommenden Zustand: Der Prozess erfolgt ohne allgemeine Planung (und auch außerhalb des rechtlichen Rahmens). Hauptakteure dieses Wandels sind die Eigentümer selbst, die ohne jegliche vorherige Absprachen agieren. Ob aus Notwendigkeit oder aus Opportunismus heraus, es handelt sich dabei um einen fragmentierten Prozess. Es beinhaltet eine Vielzahl individueller Aktionen, die als ein "Trend" oder "neu aufkommendes Muster" innerhalb der allgemeinen Organisation der perizentralen Stadtviertel zu begreifen sind und das Stadtgefüge auf subtile aber endgültige Art und Weise erneuern. Die vorliegende Arbeit stellt die Hypothese auf, dass die aufkommende Mikroverdichtung in diesen Stadtvierteln von Córdoba ein Revitalisierungsprozess ist, der das Potenzial des Stadtgefüges nachhaltiger und effizienter nutzt als das formell auferlegte Stadtentwicklungsmodell. Aufgrund des offenkundigen Gegensatzes zwischen dieser Hypothese und den aktuellen Rahmenbedingungen der lokalen Stadtentwicklung, ist es notwendig, einen theoretischen Rahmen zu schaffen, der die offensichtlichen Widersprüche auflöst und die Arbeitshypothese einrahmt. Diese These ordnet sich dem systemischen Ansatz der Komplexität zu, der analytischen Erforschung von komplexen Systemen. Dieser theoretische Rahmen ermöglicht, die aufkommenden Prozesse als integraler Bestandteil einer Stadt (ein "urbanes System"), seine Entwicklung im Laufe der Zeit, seine Komplexität und die Faktoren, von denen die urbane Nachhaltigkeit und Effizienz abhängen, zu erklären. Der systemische Ansatz begreift die Stadt als ein komplexes und dynamisches System in ständiger Entwicklung; ein System, das eher durch die Wechselbeziehungen zwischen seinen Komponenten und zwischen diesen und dem Kontext bestimmt wird, als durch den einzelnen Zustand jedes Elements. Die Qualität und Quantität dieser Interaktionen steht dabei an erster Stelle und definiert sogar den urbanen Zustand eines Ballungsgebietes. Urbanität ist nicht allein durch ihre Größe oder ihre Dichte gegeben, sondern ist gemäß der Synergie definiert, die durch eine Vielzahl an verschiedenen Interaktionen und Wech3 selwirkungen zwischen unterschiedlichen Akteuren produziert wird. Dieser Prozess heißt Synoikismos. Die Entfaltung der technologischen, sozialen und politischen Entwicklungen und Innovationen, die den städtischen Zustand charakterisieren, ist das inhärente Ergebnis dieser Interaktionen und eine direkte Funktion ihrer Intensität, Vielfalt und Redundanz, sowohl räumlich als auch zeitlich. Laut diesen Voraussetzungen ist ein nachhaltiges und effizientes Städtesystem eines, das durch die Maximierung der menschlichen und materiellen Ressourcen (und der Systembelastbarkeit entsprechend) mehrere unterschiedliche und dezentrale Austauschnetzwerke entwickelt, die inklusive Synergie- und Entwicklungsprozesse erzeugen. Dies bedeutet zum einen eine energieeffiziente Stadt, auch effizient im Konsum jeglicher Ressourcen und zum anderen eine kompakte Stadt, welche mehrere Begegnungen zwischen verschiedenen Akteuren ermöglicht, die Beteiligung an politischen Mechanismen und die intensive Nutzung des öffentlichen Raums, die Fußgängermobilität und eine funktionale und soziale Vielfalt in der Stadt fördert. Dies schließt auch Flexibilität und Anpassungsfähigkeit an Veränderungen durch Widerstands- oder Transformationsprozesse ein. Laut den lokalen Stadtentwicklungsmodellen, sind aufkommende und informelle Prozesse, wie die Mikroverdichtung, ein Zeichen der Krise im städtischen System: Anomalien, die durch die Entwicklung von schädlichen Prozessen im Konflikt mit dem Rest der Stadtstruktur entstanden sind. Konflikte, die sogar zum Zusammenbruch führen können. Laut dem theoretischen Ansatz dieser Arbeit jedoch, können diese Prozesse auch als Versuch des Systems verstanden werden, sich selbst zu regulieren und sich an neue Situationen anzupassen: Als Antwort auf ein ungelöstes Spannungsszenario; eine Art und Weise, in der das System sich selbst organisiert, um auf diese Spannung zu reagieren, indem ein neues Gleichgewicht gesucht wird. Die Arbeit strukturiert sich anhand von diesem theoretischen Rahmen, um die folgenden Fragen beantworten zu können: • Erstens, welche besonderen Rahmenbedingungen führen zu der aufkommenden Mikroverdichtung in den perizentralen Stadtvierteln in Córdoba? • Begreift man die Mikroverdichtung als Antwort auf eine bestimmte Situation innerhalb des städtischen Systems, stellt sich folgende zweite Frage: Welches Ausmaß an Nachhaltigkeit und Effizienz ermöglichen die Prozesse der Mikroverdichtung in den perizentralen Stadtvierteln im Speziellen und in Córdoba im Allgemeinen? • Nach der Identifizierung der Auswirkungen dieser Prozesse auf die Stadtstruktur, sowie des damit einhergehenden transformativen und organisatorischen Potenzials steht die dritte Frage im Raum: Kann die Erforschung von aufkommenden Prozessen dieser Art einen konzeptionellen und instrumentellen Beitrag zur lokalen Stadtplanung leisten? Um diesen Fragen nachzugehen wurde im weiteren Verlauf der Forschung eine Dokumentenanalyse durchgeführt, um den spezifischen Zustand der perizentralen Stadtviertel, der das Phänomen der aufkommenden Mikroverdichtung ermöglicht, zu rekonstruieren. Diese Analyse vollzog sich in zwei Schritten: Als Erstes wurden die perizentralen Stadtviertel und der Grund für ihr besonderes Urbanisierungsmuster historisch rekonstruiert und dadurch als (nahezu) monofunktionelle Wohnviertel mit einer geringen Bevölkerungsdichte identifiziert. Als Zweites wurde das aktuelle urbane Szenario Córdobas hinsichtlich der Produktion von und dem Zugang zu städtischem Habitat analysiert, um urbane, regionale und globale Variablen zu entwickeln, die die Entwicklungstrends der Stadt bestimmen. Dieses Vorgehen ermöglichte die Formulierung eines umfassendes Arguments, das alle Prozesse erklärt, die bisher als "gleichzeitig aber widersprüchlich" erfasst wurden. Darüber hinaus erklärt und prognostiziert dieses Argument die "undenkbare" Situation von perizentralen Stadtvierteln. Nach der Rekonstruktion des aktuellen Szenarios wurde ein kurzes und mittelfristiges (10 Jahren) Trendszenario des Phänomens abgeleitet. Dies diente dazu, die unterschiedlichen 4 Entwicklungsmuster in Córdoba zu vergleichen und deren Auswirkungen auf die Stadtstruktur zu bewerten. Im weiteren Verlauf der Arbeit wurde die Analyse der Mikroverdichtung hinsichtlich der Veränderungen im sozialen, funktionalen und räumlichen Stadtgefüge fortgeführt. Als Ergebnis wurde ein mögliches Zukunftsszenario vorgeschlagen, bei dem das Muster der Mikroverdichtung formalisiert und somit das räumlich-funktionale und sozioökonomische Gefüge der Stadtviertel transformiert wurde. Anschließend wurden das Potenzial und die Stärken (und Schwächen) gegenüber dem mittelfristigen Trendszenario von Córdoba und den perizentralen Stadtvierteln spezifiziert. Basierend auf diesen Ergebnissen wurden verschiedene Stadtentwicklungsmuster von Córdoba mithilfe der Variablen analysiert, die als strukturelle Bedingungen für Nachhaltigkeit und Effizienz definiert waren. Mit dem Ergebnis, dass die Nachhaltigkeit und die Effizienz der Mikroverdichtungsszenarien deutlich größer war als in den aktuellen Trendszenarien. Die vorliegende Analyse konnte somit die Hypothese dieser Arbeit belegen. Im letzten Abschnitt der Arbeit wurde der Diskussionsteil eröffnet. Die erste Diskussion befasste sich mit der Entwicklung, die eine progressive Revitalisierung fördert anstatt einer vollständigen Erneuerung des Stadtgefüges oder der Schaffung von neuem städtischem Land in der ruralen Peripherie der Stadt. Zudem fördert sie sowohl auf soziale, räumliche als auch funktionale Art und Weise eine kompakte, vielfältige und integrative Stadt. Diese Entwicklung beruht auf der Multiplikation und Diversifizierung der Akteure, die im Städtebau involviert sind, und betrachtet diese Prozesse, sowie die Ermächtigungs-, Beteiligungs- und Staatsführungsmechanismen als Instrumente zur Erlangung einer größeren Nachhaltigkeit und Effizienz in der Stadtentwicklung. Das bedeutet, eine Stadt, die in der Lage ist, kreativere Synergien zu schaffen und so zu sozialen, technologischen und wirtschaftlichen Vorteilen kommt. Des Weiteren betonte diese Arbeit die Rolle der aufkommenden Prozesse in einem städtischen System. Die aufkommende Mikroverdichtung hat wenig Einfluss auf die städtische Struktur von Córdoba. Jedoch ist es ein wichtiger Mechanismus, um die Verarmung und den Verlust von Ressourcen in perizentralen Bereichen und Zwischengebieten zu verhindern, d.h. um den partiellen Zusammenbruch der städtischen Struktur zu vermeiden und gleichzeitig Urbanität in Gebieten zu schaffen, die als bloße Wohnungsviertel charakterisiert sind. In der Stadtplanung ist es wichtig, auf aufkommende Prozesse in der Stadtentwicklung und auf die Erzeugung von Synergien Wert zu legen. Ihre Einbeziehung in die kritische Analyse beinhaltet die Entwicklung von Planungsinstrumenten, die nicht nur die Notwendigkeit der Dezentralisierung der Stadtentwicklung und der Entscheidungsfindung erkennen können, sondern die auch in der Lage sind, die Ungewissheit als Variable zu integrieren. Darüber hinaus müssen sie flexibel genug sein, um Veränderungen und die Notwendigkeit für Korrekturen und Anpassungen im Laufe der Zeit zu erkennen. Das Argument dieser Arbeit hat einen analytischen und erklärenden Charakter, der für die Analyse von anderen urbanen Szenarien in Argentinien und Lateinamerika nützlich ist. Dies ermöglicht die Verallgemeinerung sowohl der Ergebnisse als auch der theoretischen Annäherung an städtische Phänomene, basierend auf dem Stadt-Verständnis als komplexes, für ihre Umgebung offenes System, welches weit entfernt vom Gleichgewicht ist. Der größte Beitrag dieser Arbeit zur Urbanistik ist das Verständnis der Rolle der aufkommenden Phänomene und die Analyse der Widersprüche und Spannungen innerhalb der traditionellen lokalen Stadtmodelle, die auch Ausgrenzungen und Ungerechtigkeit im Zugang zu Stadt hervorhebt. Die Rolle des Staates und des Immobilienmarktes in der Stadtentwicklung von Cordoba wurde denaturiert und eine dialektische Artikulation der Logik des territorialen Lebensraumes in der Stadt, die sowohl Produktions- und Zugangsstrategien als auch die scheinbaren Widersprüche in der Stadtentwicklung der lateinamerikanischen mittelgroßen Städten erklärt, wurde vorgeschlagen. ; Córdoba is the capital of the province of Córdoba, in Argentina. It is also the principal city of the second-most populous metropolitan area of the country, the Greater Córdoba Metropolitan Area (AMCBA according to its acronym in Spanish), with strengths in business, automotive industry, culture, education, and research. Currently, the city seems to develop in two simultaneous and opposing processes: On the one hand, renovation by densification of the central area and its extensions, with losses of social and built heritage, and the collapse of infrastructure networks that this entails. On the other hand, extension of the urbanized area over rural and industrial periphery, with dwindling occupancy densities that dilute the urban structure more and more in the territory. Besides that, although housing production accelerates -increasing its supply-, it is concentrated in ever smaller groups: while real estate projects are targeted almost exclusively at high-income sectors and investors who do not live in the city, State investment in social housing is allocated exclusively to lower income sectors. This situation produces a deficit in proposals aimed at the so-called "middle class", even though it makes up of almost 45% of the city´s population. In addition, these processes concentrate the interest of the greater part of both local academics and urban planners. This situation produces a knowledge gap in the current situation of Córdoba´s pericentral and intermediate areas, which occupy more than 30% of the city´s urbanized land (and where the majority of this city´s inhabitants reside). It is there where this thesis´ case study is located: the pericentral districts that surround the central area. They originated as suburban extensions around 1940, and consolidated as middle-class/low-density residential neighborhoods before 1970. Today, they occupy some of the best environmental and urban quality areas of the city. Even land-use regulation specifically limits occupancy to single-family dwellings on individual plots to maintain the desired low-density residential neighborhood pattern. We can discuss the futility of studying urban sectors considered already consolidated and stable; however, when analyzed in detail, pericentral areas show complex demographic, spatial, and functional transformations that contradict this characterization: Despite the fact that these neighborhoods materializes the supposedly "most perfect" residential model known until now, a model "that solves each and every one of the urban-life needs", its social and built fabric resents. The current scenario shows a constant population-shrinking process, in spite of the demographic growth of both Córdoba and the AMCBA. Young people leaves these neighborhoods, while the remaining population ages. Abandoned buildings constantly increase; the ones offered in the real estate market have difficulties to find buyers, or even to maintain their price, which contradicts its privileged status within the city. At the same time -and unlike areas in a similar position- these neighborhoods are not the object of major real estate investments. Local academics and urban planners overlook this situation, in part because it is the result of processes with relative less impact in the city, and in part because these processes are not covered by current local urban models -based on the rationalist and deterministic urban theory of early 20th century-, which conceptualize suburban neigh6 borhoods as an urban panacea. It is impossible to deduce a hypothesis that explains the current nor the trend scenario of pericentral neighborhoods of Córdoba in terms of that framework. Therefore, this thesis discussed those theoretical models, and its capacity to explain Córdoba´s development. It proposed a theoretical framework that allowed understanding, explaining, and operating effectively in the city. It did so based on the discussion of an informal phenomenon unfailingly (but not exclusively) detected in pericentral neighborhoods: the emergent micro-densification. Given the impossibility of advantageously placing their properties in the housing market -due to factors such as land-use restrictions, and specific conditions of the local real estate market-, the landowners seek new ways to valorize their properties, facilitate access to housing for their children, or profitably invest their savings, obtaining an additional income outside the "traditional" real estate market. They increase the number of functional units in their plots, occupying the vacant building area or refurbishing obsolete constructions, while maintaining the intervention scale in relation to the existing urban fabric. These neighborhoods´ housing supply diversifies; and it not only prevents the expulsion of population, but it also attracts new inhabitants. In addition, in an originally residential fabric, it incorporates non-residential activities that enrich the urban fabric. Finally, micro-densification in pericentral neighborhoods presents a differential quality: its "emergent" condition. The process carries out without general planning (and of course outside the legal framework); inhabitants/landowners decide to do so, without any prior agreement. It is an atomized and fragmented process, result of necessity or opportunism. It is the sum of individual actions reconstructed as a "trend", or an "emerging pattern" within the general organization of pericentral neighborhoods, revitalizing the urban fabric in a subtle but definitive way. This research hypothesized that emergent micro-densification in these neighborhoods is a process of revitalization that harnesses the potential of their urban fabric; it does so in a more sustainable and efficient way than the current urban development patterns. Faced with the manifest opposition between this hypothesis and the current local urFaced with the manifest opposition between this hypothesis and the current local urban development framework, it was necessary to construct a theoretical framework able to solve the apparent contradictions detected -that the latter cannot explain-, and frame the working hypothesis. Therefore, this thesis is framed under the systemic complexity approach, that is, the analytical study of complex systems. This theoretical framework has the capacity to explain emergent processes as integral part of a city, its development over time, its complexity, and the factors on which urban sustainability and efficiency depend. The systemic approach understands the city as a complex and dynamic system, in constant development; a system determined more by interrelationships between its components, and between those components and the context, than by the individual conditions of each component. The quality and quantity of these interactions is paramount, to the point of defining the urban condition of a human agglomeration in the territory: urbanity is not given merely by the size or density of a human agglomeration; it is defined in terms of the synergy produced by a large number of different interactions between different agents; a process called synekism. The generation of innovation, and technological/social/political development that characterize the urban condition is an inherent result of these interactions, and a direct function of the intensity, diversity, and redundancy of them in the territory, over time. 7 A sustainable and efficient urban system will be one that, by maximizing material and human resources (and according to the system´s load capacity), develops decentralized, multi-exchange networks; one capable of generating synergy and inclusive development. This implies an energy efficient city, but also efficient in the consumption of any type of resources; a compact city, which prioritizes participatory political mechanisms and intensive use of public spaces, but also pedestrian mobility, and functional and social diversity. It also implies flexibility and adaptability in the face of changes, through processes of resilience or transformation. According to local urban development models, emergent and informal processes such as micro-densification are a sign of crisis within the urban system: anomalies due to the development of harmful processes, in conflict with the rest of the urban structure; conflicts that may even lead to the city´s collapse. But according to the theoretical approach proposed in this thesis, these processes can also be identified as an attempt by the system to self-regulate and adapt to new situations: as a response to a scenario of tension; a way in which the system self-organizes, and responds to that tension seeking a new equilibrium. The research is then structured in order to answer the following questions: • First, what are the specific conditions that catalyze micro-densification in the pericentral neighborhoods of Córdoba? • Second, since micro-densification is a response to a particular situation within the urban system, what is the degree of sustainability and efficiency that transformations through micro-densification provides to pericentral neighborhoods (in particular) and to Córdoba (in general)? • Finally, having identified the impact of such processes on the urban structure, and its transformative and organizational potential, can the study of emergent processes make a conceptual or instrumental contribution to local urban planning? The research continued with a document analysis that reconstructs the specific condition of pericentral neighborhoods of Córdoba -which catalyzes the phenomenon of emergent micro-densification-. This stage developed in two parts: In the first place, we historically reconstruct pericentral neighborhoods of Córdoba, and the reasons for their urbanization pattern, which consolidates them as residential, (virtually) mono-functional, low-density, middle-class neighborhoods. Secondly, we analyzed Córdoba´s current scenario -with respect to the production and access to urban habitat- establishing urban, regional, and global variables that determine the city´s current development trends. This analysis allowed us to develop a comprehensive argument that explains all the processes that until now were conceptualized as "simultaneous but contradictory". It also explains and predicts the "unthinkable" situation of pericentral neighborhoods. After reconstructing the current scenario and defining different development patterns in Córdoba (including the "formal" pericentral neighborhoods´ pattern), we inferred a trend scenario in the short and medium term (10 years). We continued analyzing the micro-densification phenomenon, in terms of its social, functional, and spatial urban fabric transformations. As a result, a possible future scenario was proposed in which the micro-densification pattern has been formalized, transforming qualitatively and quantitatively the spatial-functional and socio-economic fabric. We specified their potential and strengths (as well as their weaknesses), against the future trend scenario of Córdoba and the pericentral neighborhoods. 8 Based on these results, we analyzed the different urban development patterns in Córdoba according to the variables defined as structural conditions of sustainability and efficiency: The sustainability and efficiency of the micro-densification scenario are much greater than those of the current trends scenario. Therefore, we verified the working hypothesis, and opened the discussion of this thesis. A first line of discussion dealt with development that fosters progressive revitalization, instead of complete renewal of urban fabric, or creation of new urban land on city´s rural periphery. Development that promotes a compact, diverse, and inclusive city, both socially, spatially and functionally; based on the multiplication and diversification of city-building agents. Development that considers these processes, as well as the mechanisms of empowerment, participation, and governance as instruments to achieve greater sustainability and efficiency in urban development. A city capable of generating more creative synergy, which translates into social, technological, and economic benefits. We denatured both the role of the State and the real estate market in the urban development of Córdoba; we proposed a dialectical articulation of different logics of urban development, explaining both the production and access strategies to habitat, and the apparent contradictions in urban development of Latin American middle cities. This thesis´ argument has an analytical and explanatory character, useful for analyzing other urban systems in Argentina and Latin America. It allows the generalization of both the results and the theoretical approach to urban phenomena, understanding the city as a complex system open to its surroundings and far from equilibrium. On the other hand, this thesis emphasized the role of emergent processes in an urban system. So far, emergent micro-densification has little impact on Córdoba´s urban structure. However, it is a vital mechanism to prevent pauperization and loss of resources in pericentral and intermediate urban areas -that is to say, to avoid the partial collapse of the urban structure-, while generating urbanity in areas characterized as mere residential fragments. It is essential to give importance in urban development and in generation of synergy to emergent processes. Incorporating them into critical analysis and diagnosis involves developing planning tools capable not only of recognizing the need to decentralize urban development and sharing decision-making, but also capable of incorporating uncertainty as a variable. In addition, they must be flexible enough to detect changes and the need for adjustment and adaptation over time. This thesis makes its greatest contribution to urban studies by helping to understand the role of emergent phenomena, highlighting contradictions and tensions within the traditional local urban models, and exclusions and inequities driven by those models.

Tom L. Van Cleave, May 29, 2013 ; The Weber State University Oral History Project began conducting interviews with key Weber State University faculty, administrators, staff and students, in Fall 2007. The program focuses primarily on obtaining a historical record of the school along with important developments since the school gained university status in 1990. The interviews explore the process of achieving university status, as well as major issues including accreditation, diversity, faculty governance, changes in leadership, curricular developments, etc. ; This is an oral history interview with Tom Van Cleave conducted on May 29, 2013 by Ruby Licona. During the interview, Tom discusses his memories of attending Weber as a student as well as his career at Weber State University. Tom retired from Weber State University in 2011 as the Director of Planned Operations. ; 52p.; 29cm.; 2 bound transcripts; 4 file folders. 1 sound disc: digital; 4 3/4 in. ; Oral History Program Tom L. Van Cleave Interviewed by Ruby Licona 29 May 2013 i Oral History Program Weber State University Stewart Library Ogden, Utah Tom L. Van Cleave Interviewed by Ruby Licona 29 May 2013 Copyright © 2014 by Weber State University, Stewart Library ii Mission Statement The Oral History Program of the Stewart Library was created to preserve the institutional history of Weber State University and the Davis, Ogden and Weber County communities. By conducting carefully researched, recorded, and transcribed interviews, the Oral History Program creates archival oral histories intended for the widest possible use. Interviews are conducted with the goal of eliciting from each participant a full and accurate account of events. The interviews are transcribed, edited for accuracy and clarity, and reviewed by the interviewees (as available), who are encouraged to augment or correct their spoken words. The reviewed and corrected transcripts are indexed, printed, and bound with photographs and illustrative materials as available. Archival copies are placed in Special Collections. The Stewart Library also houses the original recording so researchers can gain a sense of the interviewee's voice and intonations. Project Description The Weber State University Oral History Project began conducting interviews with key Weber State University faculty, administrators, staff and students, in Fall 2007. The program focuses primarily on obtaining a historical record of the school along with important developments since the school gained university status in 1990. The interviews explore the process of achieving university status, as well as major issues including accreditation, diversity, faculty governance, changes in leadership, curricular developments, etc. ____________________________________ Oral history is a method of collecting historical information through recorded interviews between a narrator with firsthand knowledge of historically significant events and a well-informed interviewer, with the goal of preserving substantive additions to the historical record. Because it is primary material, oral history is not intended to present the final, verified, or complete narrative of events. It is a spoken account. It reflects personal opinion offered by the interviewee in response to questioning, and as such it is partisan, deeply involved, and irreplaceable. ____________________________________ Rights Management All literary rights in the manuscript, including the right to publish, are reserved to the Stewart Library of Weber State University. No part of the manuscript may be published without the written permission of the University Librarian. Requests for permission to publish should be addressed to the Administration Office, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, Utah, 84408. The request should include identification of the specific item and identification of the user. It is recommended that this oral history be cited as follows: Van Cleave, Tom L., an oral history by Ruby Licona, 29 May 2013, WSU Stewart Library Oral History Program, University Archives, Stewart Library, Weber State University, Ogden, UT. iii Tom Van Cleave May 29, 2013 Abstract: This is an oral history interview with Tom Van Cleave conducted on May 29, 2013 by Ruby Licona. During the interview, Tom discusses his memories of attending Weber as a student as well as his career at Weber State University. Tom retired from Weber State University in 2011 as the Director of Planned Operations. RL: I'm Ruby Licona, faculty member in the Stewart Library at Weber State University. Today, May 29, 2013, we are talking with Tom Van Cleave who retired as Director of Planned Operations at Weber State in 2011. He has been on campus for quite a while and we thought it would be good for him to tell us his perspective of things that have occurred on campus during that time. Tom, why don't you start out telling us a little bit of your background and how you happened to become associated with Weber State? TV: I was born right here in Ogden, Utah 66 years ago. I went to Ogden High School and graduated in 1965. I took my first class here at the university in 1966. I was working at the Marqus ROT Corp as a painter at the time, and I took a drafting class here. Actually, it was a blueprint reading class which sparked my interest. At the time, in order to register they had the old punch cards. Registration was in the shop area of the technical education building where you showed up and went place to place to get your cards so you could register. I took most of my drafting classes in the technical education building. I'd take one class a quarter because I had a job and a family, so I couldn't really stay focused with my education. I would take a few classes and drop out and then take a few more classes later. RL: You were not a four-year student. 1 TV: I was not. I was most definitely a nontraditional type of a student. I went from job to job and I ended up at a place called the Amalgamated Sugar Company. You would know it as White Satin Sugar. I furthered my education there working for a mechanical engineer. His name was Harvey Bingham. I will never forget this man as long as I live. He was the mentor type. I would ask him a question and every engineer had a boatload of books, so he would pull a book and say, "Okay here's the section. I want you to read this, then come back and we will talk about it." In that process, he became more of my mentor than anything else. In 1973, the engineering section I worked in as a draftsman decided they wanted the engineer group at the sugar factories. They wanted me to move to Nyssa, Oregon, but I wanted to continue my education. Nysaa, Oregon is 50 miles away from Boise State or anyplace where I could get my degree. As a consequence, I had to decline that. I ended up working for a family-owned business called Precision Built Homes which later became Precision Built Systems. It didn't take me too long to realize that the growth opportunities were just not there. I saw an ad in the Ogden Standard Examiner that they wanted an architectural draftsman. I applied for it and so did two other people that I worked with at Precision Built Systems. I interviewed with Bob Folsom, who was the Director of Campus Planning at the time. Bob was an architect and a very intelligent guy. RL: Was he Director of Campus Planning for Weber State? TV: Yes, that's right. Anyway, I interviewed with him and then time went by and I thought the university had forgotten all about me. I didn't know what the 2 bureaucracy was. I was used to private industries where it was, "You want the job? Okay, you're hired." They finally called and wanted me to come to work. Needless to say, I was elated because I had a long association with Weber State and I really thought this was going to be ideal for me. Plus, I could continue my education. I used to ride motorcycles at the time. I had a Yamaha YZ 400 and I was into racing and things like that. Just one week before I came to work here, I had a motorcycle crash and separated my shoulder. Of course, it was my right shoulder. RL: Which you used as a draftsman. TV: That's right. Bob Folsom hired a two-armed draftsman and a one-armed one showed up. He kind of looked at me and was a little bit surprised that I showed up with my arm in a sling. I thought, "Oh no, I'm out of here." He dealt with it pretty well. I learned how to draw by grabbing my sling with my left hand and moving the pencil with my right. That was back when we did all board drafting. I realized that this was my opportunity and I had to make the best out of it. Bob was very encouraging in that he wanted people to take advantage of what Weber had to offer. RL: That was in 1978? TV: Yes. That was 1978 that I was hired in. I'd take classes and I finally got into the mechanical engineering program which was basically nonexistent prior to 1979. Over time, I was able to take enough classes to finally graduate. I had graduated with my Associate's in Engineering Graphics in 1974. 3 RL: When did you graduate with your Bachelor's? TV: That wasn't until 1986. RL: Better late than never. TV: Oh yes. I'll tell you, it was a tough uphill climb for me. I had a family to support and a lot of times I'd have to work two jobs to make ends meet. RL: Do you remember any of the faculty that you worked with when you first got here? TV: I most certainly do. I took my first drafting classes in the engineering technology building on the west wing down on the south side. Later on, I took more classes at what we used to call the "TUB" which was the temporary union building. It was on the east side of building four. I remember taking drafting classes there in the wintertime and you could almost hear the wind whistling through. It was an old barracks is what it boiled down to. That's where the union building was housed in the late 1950's while the permanent union was being built. You never knew what you were going to get in that building. One of the more memorable professors I had was Park Guymon. He was a chemistry professor. He was tough, but even though I took those classes over 30 years ago, I still know the periodic chart fairly well. He worked us hard, but he was fair with everyone. He was one of the best professors I have ever had. He was super intelligent and just a great guy. Especially when you'd get him talking about horses, he could talk about horses forever. He was one of the better ones. Another professor, Carl Wood, in the mechanical engineering program was a hands-on type of a guy. He might still be here, or it's just been a few years 4 ago that he left or retired. He could give you not just the theory of things, but the practical application of things. It was the same thing with Robert Parker. Dr. Parker was the type of professor that when you walked into the classroom and sat down, you'd have everything in front of you and a pencil in hand because the second he hit the door he was walking, talking and asking questions. By the time you realized what he asked, he would call you up to the board to explain the problem. You had to be on top of your game to stay with Dr. Parker. He was a great guy. RL: What did he teach? TV: He taught strength of materials, finite element analysis, and other classes within the mechanical engineering program. RL: You mentioned that while you were with Amalgamated Sugar, Mr. Bingham was a mentor for you. Was there a faculty member at Weber that took on that role when you came back as a student? TV: Some did in limited roles. Carl Wood was one and Bob Parker was another. There were others, but the names escape me right now. RL: You've mentioned several and obviously they made an impression, but sometimes somebody stands out more than others. TV: If anyone it would have to be Park Guymon. He was not in my major, but he taught me how to work hard, how to be prepared and how to think and rationalize things out. I have to tell you a story about a final exam I took from Park Guymon. I remember the final exam I was pumped, I was primed, I was ready. I walked in there and he handed me the test and I'd been studying and studying, but I 5 started down and went through a whole page and none of the questions looked familiar to me. I started to sweat. That's when you wish, "I hope the hole opens up and swallows me right now." I looked around and everybody has just got their head down and they're going. I thought, "I'm a dead man." Finally, on the second page, I found one that I knew. That started the process rolling. I took the full two hours to do that test. When I was done, I walked out to the parking lot on the east side of the science lab building and I couldn't find my car. I had no clue where that thing was. As I walked around I thought, "Oh my heck, somebody stole my car." It finally occurred to me that I had parked on the west side. I'll never forget that chemistry final as long as I live. RL: Did you finally go back and answer some of the things on the first page? TV: Oh yes. I got the ball rolling and I think I got a 92 or a 90 on that test. It was one of those feeling I've never had a feeling like that in my life—the "I am sunk" feeling. If anybody was a mentor I think it would be Park. I still see him to this day and I stop and say, "Hi," to him. His wife is absolutely wonderful, I remember her too. He is just a great guy. It's been all these years. RL: He's been mentioned to me by several people, not necessarily in interviews, but around different situations. Actually, one of my surgeons and another physician also had him as undergraduate students here at Weber State. You're right. They are delightful people. TV: I had a lot of professors, but he's the one that just stands out the most. Dr. Parker was from Chicago and he had kind of an accent. You'd ask him a question and he'd say, "Yea, yea, yea, yea." That was one of the more humorous 6 things. Then you'd take some of his exams and you'd think, "Oh my, the humor is over." Another one I had was Norman Smith. He taught thermodynamics and heat transfer. I remember Dr. Smith gave us take home exams. I had never had a take home exam before in my life. I thought, "Alright, we have a take home exam. I am living large. Life is going to be good." Of course, I postponed it and started working on it on a Sunday and we had class on Monday. I must have spent eight to ten hours working on that one exam. It was a total nightmare. I learned really fast about take home exams. I had a couple more and they lived up to the expectations. He was a very intelligent man. We did a lot of formula derivation. Back then I was thinking, "Okay, I really don't need to derive those formulas. Guys a lot smarter than me came up with them so they must have figured it out so I don't have to, right?" No. We went through them step-by-step. It got you thinking. Rather than thinking, "I need this class to get out of here." It got you thinking about the applications. He was a brilliant man. He didn't stay with us too long before he moved on. I think from every professor I had I took something with me. Carl Wood was just one of the nicest guys you ever want to be around. I remember in one class he had the class down to his house for a barbeque after the class was over just to treat us. He was very patient and was able to explain everything. I was able to use a lot of that on the job through the analysis type of thing. RL: So you were working full-time at that time? TV: Yes. RL: Were you able to take advantage of a tuition cut or anything? 7 TV: Back then we were on the quarter system and we'd get five credit hours free and 10 percent off at the bookstore. I remember my first drafting book I bought at the bookstore. I thought, "This is outrageous." It was this big, thick drafting book. I think it was $22.00. I about died. RL: That was a fortune at the time. TV: It was. Considering I was making about $2 an hour back then, so that gives you an idea. RL: What about on the work scene? You mentioned Folsom. Were there other people that functioned as mentors for you in the workplace? TV: I replaced a guy named Wayne Venable. Wayne had a heart attack and died rather suddenly. At the time, we only had about 7,200 students here. When I was hired in, there was me, Bob Folsom, and a guy named Fred Kendall. He (Fred) was the nicest guy I've ever run across in my life. Fred was the type of guy who would never speak an ill word about anybody. He was just that type of a personality. There was also a secretary and a student aid. That was it for the whole campus. They called it Campus Planning and Construction. As things grew and progressed we were able to hire more people. A lot of what I learned was from the guys in the shops. We were in the Architectural Services Department on one corner of the campus and the guys in the shop were up on the hill in what is now the Facilities Management Building. I tried to involve these guys in the shops especially in the practical applications. I could punch all the numbers in the world and I knew what had to happen and knew the design parameters of a particular piece of equipment. But, then you 8 start getting into installs and what actually makes it work and how to control it. That's when I started talking to the guys in the shops. I gravitated toward these people because they were very smart individuals and very good at their trade. I learned a lot of practical things from the people in the shops. There were guys that had been plumbers for 30 years and guys that had been electricians for about the same amount of time. They knew how everything was supposed to work. I learned a lot from those people. I also learned a lot from Division of Facilities Construction and Management inspectors. They were on the construction end and they managed most of our major projects on the campus like the new buildings and major remodels and things like that. RL: The things that we now have to contract out. TV: Yes. I just had a vast variety of influences on that. Bob was very much an architect and more of an artist. I remember I took a class in art and architecture. I remember Bob saying that if engineers designed all the buildings on campus, they would all look like boxes. They have to have an architectural element to them. Historically, engineer types and architecture types have clashed. The engineer types want mechanical rooms with all the space in the world, while architects say that's very valuable space that could go to other things. There's always this clash type of a thing, which leads me to my next step. In 1991, Weber State College became a university. I remember that quite well, they had quite the celebration. I moved from working for Bob and he said he was disappointed to lose me because I'd like to think I did a really good job. I did get a lot of compliments from the faculty. 9 RL: You had been here at least ten years by that time. TV: It's interesting because I only planned on spending four years. I knew when I had it good. It didn't take me too long to figure that out. Anyway, I went to work for Dave Maxson, who was the Director of Physical Plant. Dave was one of the nicest guys that ever walked the face of the earth. He had a hospital background. My job was to bridge the gap between the architectural side and the practical side. I knew both ends of the business. I think I was successful in doing a lot of that. When I was working for Bob Folsom, I got here right after the Dee Events Center was dedicated and the Engineering Technology building was dedicated the year after. The next building was the Wattis business building. We had so much trouble with that building from the operations and maintenance end. It had stacked fan systems so if you have something go wrong with one fan system you have to disassemble one to get to the other. It had very cramped and compact mechanical rooms. It was very impractical. It had great big cooling coils on the fan systems and you had to actually cut a hole in a wall to get the old coils out and the new ones in. Be it my influence or complaining or whatever you want to call it, I was the go-between. As the next building, student services, was to be built it was the first time we were actually involved in the planning process. I went to all the planning meetings and the construction meetings. Sometimes my suggestions weren't taken well and other times they were. It was a give and take kind of a thing, realizing that the architects had their point of view and the maintenance side had our point of view and we were trying to make those two 10 things mesh. Student Services was the first building that I was heavily involved in and it was a valuable learning experience. I learned a lot from a lot of people. I was able to temper my own feelings. That's when I learned how to realize the other person's point of view. I take a lot of pride in that one. RL: It's growing up. TV: Yes, that right. Of course, it served me well as my career progressed with personnel issues. I worked for Dave for about ten years. Back then, we had a Director of Architectural and Engineering Services, Director of Physical Plant, and we also had a Director of Electronic Systems and Repair whose name was Sid Jensen. I had one of these projects going on that we had to have his help on right away. I went down to explain my problem to him and Sid says, "I need all this paperwork filled out in quadruplicate. It has to be signed off by anybody and everybody and you're six weeks out to get the parts." He proceeded for about five minutes and I thought, "My gosh, I will never get this done." He finally talked himself down and says, "Oh okay, will this afternoon be okay?" Sid was the type of guy that had to get a chunk out of you. He had to do it and he loved it the entire time. Once you caught onto him, he had a heart of gold and he'd do anything in the world for you, but you'd have to endure it first. They did some studies across campus and they decided it didn't make a whole lot of sense to have three separate directors running three separate entities and they should all be working together. RL: You needed an umbrella to cover. 11 TV: That's right. They hired consultants to analyze our whole situation and that has evolved into what is called the facilities management department. Mike Perez was the guy that showed up on the scene. He came from SMU. They had a structure at SMU that was kind of what we were looking for, so Mike knew the ropes. He was quite a personality and you always knew when he was in the room. He was just the type that would attract people, very outgoing and a smart guy. He was a super sharp individual. We were used to the old ways of doing things and Mike started out by learning the ropes. He and his wife came from Texas. RL: When did he come here? TV: It must have been in 2000 that he came. RL: Is he still here? TV: No, he went on to the University of Utah. Anyway, I remember they were born and raised in Texas and I remember the day he got here we had an April 1st snowstorm. His wife had one of those big trench coats like what the football players wore with a hood. She was all huddled up and she looked like, "What in the world did Mike drag me into? The frozen tundra of Utah?" Their son, Michael, was out throwing snowballs and he thought it was the greatest thing. I'll never forget the look on his wife's face. Mike went through a whole series of meetings, planning sessions and mentoring and we evolved. RL: What was his title? TV: At the time, he was Director of Facilities Management. 12 We used manage this place by reacting. If there was a problem, we reacted. There wasn't anything that was planned as far as maintenance was concerned or anything preventive. We ran it until it broke and then we repaired it. We had limited resources and limited technology to enable us to start planning this. We had started our facilities management work order system just before Mike got here. The realization was that we needed to start planning better. I remember the old Maximo program that just basically generated work orders. Prior to that time, the work orders were scribbled on a piece of paper and we called whoever on the radio to go fix it. That was the extent of it. We started refining. He was only with us for about three years, but he made a lot of changes. He brought us all under the same umbrella. Don't get me wrong, there was resistance. To Mike's credit, he pulled it off. He's a high energy guy who would send emails at three in the morning or he'd be in Texas and send me emails. The University of Utah recruited him so that gives you an idea of the type of job he was doing for us. He replaced one of the legends down at the University of Utah, Randy Turpin. Randy even had a building named after him at the University of Utah. He was the Director of Physical Plant or Plant Operations. RL: They stole our person to improve their situation. TV: They had a void they needed to fill and they needed the right guy to do it. RL: What was your position under him? TV: I was the assistant director under Mike. When Dave Maxson, Bob Folsom and Syd Jensen all left within a short period, I assumed the role of the director. Dave had brought me along enough that I knew how things worked. I knew how the 13 budget worked and I was able to use that information that Dave gave me to manage that for quite a spell. It must have been six months or better before they hired Mike Perez. After Mike left, there was another long period because they couldn't find the right person for the job. We had interview after interview as the university was looking for the right person. I was managing the department during this time period also. RL: You mentioned that Kevin Hansen managed Air Force bases all over the world. Did we recruit him away from Hill Air Force Base or did he come in from elsewhere? TV: He retired from the Air Force. He'd managed Air Force bases in Anchorage, Alaska and Cape Canaveral, Florida. We're talking multi-million dollar budgets that he managed. He retired from the Air Force and ended up in Logan City Public Works. This was a long process that we went through. We had candidate after candidate showing up, but it was just not the right fit for us. The administration wanted the right person for that job. I remember the first time I met Kevin I thought, "Oh my gosh, a retired colonel, we're all in a boatload of trouble." We had several downloading sessions. He brought me under his wing more or less. We talked department-to-department and person-to-person about how we each saw things. We had several sessions of that. We were going to a conference in St. George and we talked the whole way there. Kevin saw things in an entirely new light than we were used to seeing. He said the first thing he noted was that the Administration Building had an old wooden sign. It was actually a metal sign framed with 4x4's and it was kind of leaning up against the west wall. 14 Those were the kinds of things he saw, but we had been seeing it all along so it was just part of the landscape for us. That's just one small example of what he saw. RL: Is that when we went through that major signage change all over the campus. TV: That's right. He wanted to turn this place into a first class organization. It wasn't without pain, don't get me wrong, because we had people that were pretty much entrenched, that could not see the light and resisted. You're bound to get resistance with any change. I remember back when we used to go down to the state surplus and get our service vehicles. By the time they hit state surplus, these things had been used to death. RL: 300,000 miles on a little truck. TV: Right. That's not outside the realm of possibility. We were trying to piece things together and it was a mish mash of things. We had an old Popsicle truck that the plumbers used. That's where we were at the time. Kevin was able to change that through budget management. You'll notice all the service vehicles now match. They're all in good shape and we rotate them. We don't have to worry that much anymore about them starting in the wintertime. That's just another example of the things he accomplished. RL: That relates back to some of the old Mike Perez thinking where you don't just react, you plan ahead. TV: That's right. It adds a professionalism that was lacking. At the loading dock at the facilities management building, we had a lineup of old beat up chairs that were scavenged from gosh knows where sitting on the dock out there. The guys would 15 go sit out there in the summertime. These things were worn out and beat up. We had a yard full of transformers that were taken out when we upgraded from 4160 volt to 12470 sitting out in the back lot. Our back lot was a junk yard. Kevin really drove the point home that this was not the way were going to run this facility. The chairs disappeared, the transformers disappeared and he was going to change this into a first-class organization. He asked me one day which section within facilities management I wanted to manage. I told him immediately that I am more in tune with the maintenance operations. That's how my job title got changed to Director of Plant Operations. I managed what they call skilled crafts like the electricians, the plumbers, the carpenters, the painters, and HVAC personnel. RL: The ones who would be licensed and certified in the outside world. TV: Right. I also oversaw energy management. I remember my first energy project when Dave Maxson was still here. It was in 1995. We got a grant from the state of Utah for changing light bulbs. We had T-12's and we were changing them to T-8's. There were all these people trying to promote certain things and that's where the analysis I performed came in. RL: What does T-12 and T-8 relate to? TV: These are florescent tubes that have two types of ballasts in them. They had the old magnetic ballasts and the new ones were electronic. That's when I started to get involved in the energy management end. It kind of got to be my passion. I did a lot of analysis of the wattage and the light levels to determine which was going to be the best. They had several different types out there at the time. People 16 were trying to promote T-10's and a primitive form of LED's. I finally had to make the decision while working with other engineers and the first building we changed to the new T-8's was the science lab building. That was the first building we retrofitted under this grant that we got from the Department of Energy for the state of Utah. The Lind lecture hall soon followed. At the time, Allied Health Science building phase one was already in place and they were looking at the Allied Health Sciences Building phase two. I had to convince architectural engineers and administrators that the T-8's were the best thing to put in the new health sciences building rather than the T-12's. I had to show them all the energy efficiency and so on. The numbers just really fell out and I was able to convince them to put the T-8's. The Allied Health Science building phase two was the first new campus building to have the T-8 florescent tubes in it. RL: Then you went around and retrofitted the other buildings. TV: That's right, over time. We still stumble into the T-12's sometimes, but pretty much all of them are now T-8's. RL: The experience you had with that is what led to your part-time position that you took on after retirement. TV: Bingo. RL: That's energy analysis? TV: Yes. I'm the Utility and Energy Analyst now. I do the fun stuff. I tell everybody my story and say that I basically went from four meetings a day down to one or two a 17 week, which suits me just wonderfully. I think I got away from my passion when I got promoted up. RL: We've gotten a picture of how you've progressed through your work career here on campus. You said you grew up here in Ogden, do you have early memories of Weber prior to coming here as a student? I know people talk about Weber and I'm sure at that time were referring to it as Harrison High School, kind of looking down their nose. After people get here they have a whole different perspective on things. I've also spoken to some people who remember running around on the campus and sledding down the hills when we got snow. What are your early memories of the campus? TV: My brother graduated from the old Weber College down on 25th Street. I remember the Moench building. I couldn't have been any more than five or six years old when he graduated. I remember the gym especially because of all the ramps going up to the spectator area. It was so fun for a five of six year old kid to go running down those ramps. RL: Was that the building down by the public library? TV: Yes, that's was old Moench building. It was a very striking building. I'm sure you've seen pictures of it. My best friend, Brent, used to live near me on 28th Street just below Harrison and moved right across the street from the current university site. There used to be a big white two story building at the front of campus at about 3400 South. It had a pond out in the front that had little mosquito fish and goldfish in it. We'd sneak in there at night and try to catch them, but were very unsuccessful at that. 18 RL: It sounds like they were the kind of thing that even if you had caught them you couldn't do anything with them. TV: We couldn't, but we were kids and we didn't think too far ahead. I remember the old married student housing on the west side of the Browning Center where the visual arts building is now. Another friend of mine had a sister that lived in there with her husband back in 1963 or 1964. I've had a long association with Weber State. RL: You've been here as a student and as an employee under quite a few different presidents on campus. I would imagine that when you came President Miller was still here? TV: President Miller was still here, but he was no longer president. He was still very much a presence. I was working for Bob Folsom as a draftsman and this gentleman came through and stopped by to talk to me and wanted to know how it was going. I didn't know this guy. He just seemed like a pretty cool guy. RL: Was he president when you came as a student? TV: Yes he was, but I didn't know him personally. I remember President Miller and his wife also. They were just the sweetest people you ever want to be around. After he came through that day, I went to Bob Folsom and asked, "Who's that guy that just came through?" He said, "Oh, that's President Miller." The president's home at the time was right at the top of 4100 South. It is office space for the athletics department now. His wife lived there. I met her and got to know her better when I was working for Dave Maxson. She was just the most wonderful person you ever want to be around. She was very appreciative of 19 anything you could do for her. She would bring us treats up at the office every once in a while when I worked for Dave. She would just stop by with donuts or cookies as a note of appreciation for what we did. RL: Each administration had its own flavor, doesn't it? When you started working here it would have been President Bishop? TV: I came right after President Bishop left. President Brady was the first president that I worked under. I got to know him and his wife somewhat. They had a home here on Edgehill Drive. The college bought it off the market, but it needed some renovations. I was put in charge of the renovations, so I got to meet with President Brady. One thing about President Brady, he had a closet full of blue suits. Every time I saw him he was wearing a blue suit. His rationale was that it was one less decision he had to make in the course of a day. I worked with his wife, Mitsy, quite a bit. She was a wonderful lady. She was highly appreciative and a very classy lady. RL: You actually were in a position where you interacted with them at their home and not just on campus. TV: That's right. RL: Any particular incidents that you remember with that home? TV: President Brady liked to play basketball and I remember we put a basketball court in his backyard. I made all the drawings and our carpenters did all the form work and poured the concrete. That was one of the more notables. We made some changes to the lighting and landscaping over there that she appreciated. I 20 was able to work with them at their own home which is one of the little perks of my job. RL: I've heard a lot of stories about his walking around the campus knowing a lot of the students, and of his interaction with the faculty. Was he just as approachable for the staff? TV: I was nervous about approaching people like the president who was really up there when I was just a lowly draftsman at the time. I was hesitant to approach him. I remember he had signs all over campus. He would write his thoughts and put them on signs and put them around campus. That was another little thing that he did. He was a very nice man, but very formal. I interacted much better with his wife who was less formal. My interactions with him were strictly on little projects. RL: After he left, we would have had President Nadauld. He was also fairly formal, wasn't he? TV: At times. I've got to tell you a funny story about President Nadauld. This was before the Stromberg Center was built. We used to have faculty-staff basketball leagues at the old Swenson Gym. President Nadauld was very competitive and he loved basketball, but he is not all that big of a man. At the time, I was about my present size. I was in better shape, but I was a pretty good-sized boy. Anyway, we were playing basketball with teams and I went out to set a pick. President Nadauld ran into me and then hit the floor. I went about as white as your sweater. I thought, "Oh my gosh, I just decked the president." I thought my employment was over, but he actually got up and he smiled about it. He said, "Nice pick." There's still a guy on campus that will never let me forget that. His 21 name is Mike Whetton, and every time I see him, to this day, he reminds me of the time I decked President Nadauld. We used to have fishing derbies at the campus in the pond. Physically challenged kids would show up and we'd plant fish in the upper pool and the guys from physical plant would go down and help these kids catch fish. You'd see these kids that are confined to wheelchairs who would just light up with their first fish. It was so rewarding to witness that. It was an annual thing with President Nadauld. After he left, the derbies pretty much died off. I really thought that President Nadauld was a very personable individual. I appreciated what he did, especially with that fishing derby. That was an indicator of what the man was really like. He was very compassionate and just a good man all the way around. RL: He was president when I arrived here. From my perspective, I didn't approach him because he was the president. There were a couple of times when we interacted and he really wasn't unapproachable, it's just what you build into the position. When he left, we got Paul Thompson. He made a lot of changes on campus and had more of an emphasis on recruitment and diversity issues in terms of expanding the faculty and bringing in more people of color. I don't know if that began with President Nadauld, but I know that there were internships that he and Bob Smith made possible for faculty members and there was more emphasis for students. The campus face has changed in terms of the student population with more international students and Asian, Latino, and African American students. What have you seem in terms of the makeup of the staff? 22 Since you have worked with people on the staff in different buildings, did you notice any particular changes as far as diversity when we started having the push on campus? TV: Not so much immediately. I was on the construction end. One of my favorite people on this campus is Forrest Crawford. RL: Absolutely. TV: He is absolutely the greatest guy I have ever met in my life. RL: He started out here as a football player. TV: That's right. I'm going to digress further. There was a guy here, Darnell Haney, who used to play football for the Oakland Raiders, who came from Utah State. I knew Darnell because I was coaching little league football at the time in Washington Terrace and I coached his son. That's how I got to know Darnell. I remember I was doing a project in the union building and I was talking to Lynn Kraaima when I noticed his eyes kind of shift. At the time, there was a promotion going across campus about a new club and restaurant opening up in town called Bigfoot's. Anyway, I looked at Lynn kind of funny and then this great big furry paw hit my shoulder. I turned around and the most enormous creature I've ever seen in my life in a Bigfoot costume had ahold of me. It was Darnell Haney. I think I set the world record for the standing high jump thanks to Darnell. I wasn't directly involved in the diversity effort, but I reaped the benefits by getting to know these people. RL: What were the changes that you noticed that were brought about? 23 TV: That is a hard one for me because I had the benefit of getting to know the people that got hired here, some of the guys I think back on like Henry Yamaguchi who worked up there. RL: I just wondered if you saw a difference in the face of the staff. TV: I'd have to stop and think about that because I didn't really pay much attention to it. To me they were just good guys and that's what matters. One of the better interactions I've had. I love to work out at the gym and I lift a lot of weights up there and I love interacting with the student athletes. These young men and women are about as fine a people you'll ever meet in your life. I love to talk to people and getting to know these student athletes has been one of the more amazing experiences in my life. I have people stop me that I don't recognize and they say, "I work out at the gym, we talk about this and this." I've got to tell you a story about Fine Unga. He used to be a running back under Mike Price. I've seen him around for years. He looks like he could still play. One of his relatives, I think it was his nephew, was BYU's all-time leading rusher, Harvey Unga. I've been a Chicago Bears fan since I was a little kid. I just mentioned it to Fine and asked if it was a relative of his who got drafted by Chicago. We got to talking and I mentioned to him that one of the things on my bucket list is to go back to Bears Stadium to see a Bears game. Later on, said to me, "Well, if Harvey makes the team, we'll go back and see a game." I just spaced it off again and then he brought me a hat that said, "Number 45, Harvey Unga." I said, "What is up with this?" He said, "Harvey made the team." I said, "Wow, that's cool!" He said, "You pick the game and we'll go back." 24 RL: Did you get seats on the sideline? TV: We are going back on August 15, 2013 to see the Bears game at the Chicago Stadium versus the San Diego Chargers. One of the other notables was Frank Otis who played basketball for us. I'd be out and about and he'd stop me and I'd get to know him. RL: Did you get to play basketball with Damien? You couldn't pull a pick on him. TV: Damien's about five leagues ahead of me. He'd probably jump over the top of me. There again, Damien is another fine man. I was in a meeting and Kyle Tresnack stopped me because he recognized me. Bonnie and I are the ones with the towels behind the basket and we wave them at the opposing players when they're trying to make free throws. He picked up on that. The things you pick up on and just these wonderful experiences, you cannot put a price tag on them. It's just part of the overall experience up here. RL: With Thompson, there was an era when we started having more strategic planning on campus, which falls in line with what you were seeing in facilities management. I don't know if the two are related or if it was just individuals that happened to be working on the same kinds of things. After President Thompson, we got Ann Milner, who is very highly thought of and I have not heard of anyone who was not sad to see her step down. TV: I am among those. I've known President Milner for a long time. I knew her when she was working for continuing education. Right after she became president here in about 2004 or 2005, we had a request from her to tour the infrastructure of the campus. She was very interested in the infrastructure of the campus wanted to 25 go see the chilled water plant, and the heat plant, and wanted to go through the tunnels. I didn't know quite how to take this. Kevin Hansen assigned me to take President Milner on a tour. RL: Through all the mole holes on the campus? TV: Some of the places I'd say, "President Milner, you really don't want to go down here." She's the only one that wanted to know how this place worked and what the infrastructure was like. We didn't have any centralized air conditioning on this campus until 1968. They put two lithium bromide steam powered absorption chillers in the basement of the science lab building. As the campus grew, we had to add another central chiller. It was our first centrifugal that was installed in a separate vault way below basement grade on the south end of the science lab building. Once we got the new electric powered centrifugal in place, we abandoned the old absorption chillers which were a maintenance nightmare because they were old and antiquated. RL: It's like the difference between air conditioning and swamp coolers. TV: Pretty much. The absorbers were an energy hog, very inefficient, troublesome, and a constant maintenance issue. The centrifugal at the time was a 1250 ton carrier and it pretty much took care of the campus. We're talking the early 1980's. The campus continued to grow and expand and we were running that chiller for all it was worth. We had no redundancy. We didn't have a backup plan if that chiller went down. I remember on a July 4th weekend in the late 1990's, the central campus chiller went down. At the same time, we had a stand-alone unit at 26 the Browning Center, which was installed during construction in the late 1960's that went down on the same day. This was July 4th weekend, we had two chillers down and we had nowhere to turn. We couldn't get anyone up here because people were out of town. We finally got ahold of someone from Carrier Corporation and he worked on the central chiller throughout most of the weekend. The Browning Center chiller was 24 feet down and it had two lines, one is the chilled water line that goes to the building and the other is the condensing line which goes to the cooling towers. The ground shifted and sheered the condenser lines, so we started digging. We had to bring in great big track hoes and we just started digging and digging. When we got down there we ran across all these cables that were sagging. Those were the feeder cables to the transformers in the basement. We had to get electricians up here to take care of that. In the meantime, we struck hardpan and hit groundwater and the basement of the Browning Center started to flood. You wonder how many things could go wrong with that project. Scott Jensen was the director of the Browning Center and had events scheduled. Needless to say, he was pretty anxious to get this done. An employee named Destry Labrum and I tried to line up electricians and anybody we could find. I lived here for two or three days until we got that done. I hardly slept at all. I remember telling Destry that the sweetest sound I've ever heard in my life was that central campus chiller. There was a reason we used to have earphones right there at the door. That thing was a high pitched screamer. 27 At that time, I thought that that old carrier finally getting back online was the prettiest sound I've heard in my life. It underscored the whole idea that if we lose a chiller, we're dead in the water. That started the process rolling. In the meantime, we were doing a make-do kind of thing. We took out the old absorption chillers and we kept adding new chillers, but I did a lot of studies, which showed that we were still running out of capacity. The campus was growing faster than what we could keep up with and what we could support. I think that was part of the reason why President Milner wanted to see what was going on. I explained to her everything that we were doing. I even took her down to the vault with the old screamer and we both had our hands over our ears. We needed more capacity and redundancy in our plant. RL: She was very successful in her time in getting funding for new buildings and for remodeling on campus. We had Elizabeth Hall… TV: There was some visionary stuff going on with Vice President Simkins. He could see the need, so the cooling towers were in place before we got the central plant. President Milner was successful in convincing people to support the new chilled water plant. We're talking 5 or 6 million dollars. Now, we have full redundancy. We are totally backed up. If we lose a chiller, we have total back up. Same with the heat plant. RL: We'll continue as we get the funding for the new science building. TV: That's right. We have capacity there to handle it. RL: Were you around during the construction of the science buildings or was that already in place? 28 TV: The science lab constructed before I arrived as part of the major building boom on campus, which happened between 1968 and 1972. RL: So you would have been here as a student? TV: I would have been here as a student. As a matter of fact, I took classes from Park Guymon and we had our labs in the science building. RL: You'll come full circle because now they will get a new building. TV: That is a good thing. Honestly, the science labs have been a maintenance nightmare for us. Back then, the way they used to fireproof everything was with that spray-on asbestos. We have to be careful because they can't do a lot in that building without removing the asbestos first. We can't even work on things. It's old and worn out. A lot of the components, like the exhaust fans on the roof, you can't get parts for anymore because they don't make them. We have to buy brand new exhaust fans with a little bit of a different configuration and adapt them to keep the building operational. RL: You described President Milner as very much hands-on from the ground up. I would imagine that having that type of an administrator makes life a little easier for facilities management operations. That area did not report directly to the president, it always reported to a vice president, is that correct? TV: That's correct. RL: You just mentioned Vice President Al Simkins. Was there someone else in his place prior to his arrival that you remember? Were there influences on facilities management? 29 TV: The first vice president I remember really well was Dr. Folger who was a very personable type of guy and a very intelligent individual and he was very approachable. Even being a lowly draftsman, I was able to talk to him on a limited basis. I was very rank conscious, but he was very approachable. He came from the business end of things and had a doctorate in business. I wasn't here too many years when Dr. Folger retired. RL: Did he come in from faculty? TV: He came in from faculty I believe. He could have been an academic dean. After that was Dr. Jerry Story. I didn't interact with Dr. Story very much. Bob Folsom interacted with him quite a bit as far as anything to do with the campus. I didn't really know the man very well. He seemed like he was a nice enough guy and he'd talk to you, but I wasn't able to interact with him on a one-on-one basis. After that it was Dr. Simkins. RL: He was here for quite a while. TV: Until Dr. Tarbox showed up. RL: That would have been about 2005. With Al Simkins, you mentioned earlier that he had been interested in setting the plan in place to prevent catastrophes and to plan ahead for some redundancy and so forth. TV: Dr. Simkins was the visionary. He could see what was coming down the pike and saw the need to combine his departments. He saw what had to happen and was able to implement that. I was able to interact with Dr. Simkins through one of my all-time favorite people named Craige Hall. RL: Who became vice president over there in 1991. 30 TV: Yes, he was the associate vice president, I believe. I knew Craige when he was the director of the library here. We did some remodeling projects. He was one of the most approachable and fun guys I've ever been around, a super golfer who was terrific. We had a lot in common and he was very approachable. I just can't say enough good things about Craige Hall. RL: He was the director of the library for twenty something years and also happened to be put over the computer center. I believe when he went to the vice president's office, they moved the computer center so that it was still under him. He had quite a variety of things. He had physical plant, all of the budget and financial stuff, the athletes and the NCAA relationships and all of the facilities things. You just thought you went to a lot of meetings. TV: I remember when Craige got appointed to what we called mahogany row on the third floor. My previous dealings with certain faculty members that had been promoted to that level had not been very good. I got the feeling that once they were promoted to that level that they became very rank conscious. I didn't know what to expect when I had my first meeting with Craige Hall in his new office. I was kind of sitting at attention and he looked at me kind of funny and said, "Thomas, how the hell are you?" I said, "Fine." I guess I still didn't loosen up enough because he took his shoes off and put his feet on the desk and said, "Well, take your shoes off, put your feet up, let's talk about things." It just put me at ease. We were able to interact in that manner, keeping in mind that he's still at vice president level and I'm not, but he had that way of putting you at ease and he'd listen to you and address your concerns. He was every bit a manager who 31 could bring people together. Define the term "manager," that would be Craige Hall. I got to know his wife, Deanna, very well also. She was a wonderful person too. Those two matched up so well. I remember some of the stories Craige would tell me about the younger days when he was running for student body president of high school and some of the things they did like an airplane drop with all these leaflets. They got in trouble for that for all the litter they were throwing out of airplanes. Some of the stories that he would tell were just absolutely wonderful. I was able to interact very well with Craige Hall. He's a great guy. Vice President Tarbox was without a doubt one of the smartest individuals I've ever been around. He is extremely intelligent. RL: He didn't come in from faculty, he came in from outside. TV: That's right. He came in from the Board of Regents. We always called him Norm from the Board of Regents. You found out early on that if you have a meeting with Norm, you better have all your ducks in a row and be able to answer any question that he could throw at you. He's very detailed and highly intelligent, but he was kind of pressing the need for the new chilled water plant and later on the new boiler addition in our heat plant to replace the two worn out boilers. Both of the boilers were over 50 years old. On the facilities side, he was very much the visionary. No doubt, Craige had some influence there. RL: You had Simkins who laid all the ground work. 32 TV: He did lay all the groundwork. Norm was able to take over and run with it. Our whole energy management program as we see it was championed by Norm. RL: Okay, that's been the era that we've been in for the last few years with this ongoing green project and so forth. TV: Actually, the revolving loan fund. He championed this idea. We hired a young man as an energy manager, Jake Cain, who ended up working for me. He undertook this project to prove to administration that conserving energy and revolving and taking the energy savings and reinvesting it in the institution was actually a good idea. I remember he presented that to Norm and it's something I'd been pressing for years to get a portion of our energy savings to reinvest in new energy products. We basically proved to Norm that we were getting a much higher rate of return on our investment through energy savings than we were in any other investment that the university had at the time. Norm championed that whole idea and we now have other universities coming to us and asking, "How did you do that?" That's the type of visionary he was. He still is as a matter of fact. I think the world of Norm. He and Craige are wonderful. Every once in a while I run across Simkins in the grocery store and of course my wife, Bonnie, knows everybody. RL: She was in Human Resources for a while, wasn't she? TV: Yes, that's right. At one time she was working with the football team under Dave Arslanian. She was in charge of all the travel arrangements and had to feed the athletes and things like that. These are 18 or 19-year- old kids that have never been away from home before and she was kind of the team mom. I met her in 33 1990 when she was working for Sam Zeveloff. She went from Sam to football, and then went to work for Nandi in Student Affairs. She worked for Jan Winneford for a while and then went to Human Resources. As a consequence, she knows everybody on this campus. My standing joke when it comes to Bonnie is, "People know me not as Tom, but as Bonnie's husband." My real name is Bonnie's Husband Van Cleave. I kid her a lot about that. I could carry on about Bonnie, but that's not part of this here. We just have so much fun together. RL: Well, she's part of the campus history too. TV: She is. Absolutely. She was my gift. She keeps me grounded and we get along so wonderfully. RL: In your working with buildings and construction around campus and so forth, you probably also had involvement with some of the deans and the different colleges. Anyone in particular that had an impact? TV: Warren Hill. I enjoyed working with Warren. RL: Warren Hill who is kind of grounded came here from Pueblo, Colorado and he got here in the early nineties. TV: Right. I got to know Warren. I still see him on occasion. He's one of the greatest guys and super smart, very analytical. We got along pretty well. He was very influential and he has the type of personality that you go out of your way to try to help him out. People just gravitate to him. He's very outgoing and just a great person to be around. My interaction with other deans has not been that extensive. RL: We had some long-term people like Dean Sadler over in social sciences. 34 TV: I took a class with Dean Sadler right after he got here. I think he got here in 1968. I've known Dr. Sadler since forever ago and he's just another one of those great individuals. I interacted with him quite a bit. He was super charismatic and a great individual. He'd appreciate anything you could do for him and he'd listen to you. RL: They had some major problems in the social science building. TV: We had several problems in that building, which was built in the sixties We had insect infestations. I know that. We tried re-caulking and that building was another constant battle for us. The infrastructure is very dated. We also had heating and air conditioning problems. RL: I was thinking about the leaky roof. TV: Yes, we did have roof leaks. That building is an old building and it's in need of a total renovation. It's been a nightmare for us. RL: Was that one of the first major buildings on this campus? TV: Yes, it was built in that time period between 1968 and 1970. I do a lot of analysis of these buildings and there was a big building boom on this campus that took place between 1968 and 1973. The whole north end of the campus was totally torn up at that time. The education building was built soon thereafter. I remember seeing a campus master plan at one time and there was supposed to be a skyway bridge between the social science building and the education building. You can still see where it was supposed to be, especially on the social science building. On the second floor, midway on the east side of the building, there are some glass panels that don't quite match up with the rest of them. At one time 35 they were double doors. We finally realized that the sky bridge was not going to be built, so there was a remodeling project to get rid of those double glass doors. We've had our share of leaky roofs. Right after Mike Perez got here, we had one of those canyon winds that was super bad. We lost a lot of roofs that day. Perez and I went to the top of the stadium to see what the damage was. We were out there hanging on for dear life watching the roof of the Allied Health Science Building disappear. RL: That building was fairly new. TV: Yes, at that time it was fairly new. I also remember all of our campus roofs had to be red. They had the tar and gravel build up type of roof made with what they call Red Scoria, which is lava rock. Canyon winds tend to pick those things up and make unguided missiles out of them. We replaced a lot of windshields after that windstorm. RL: Broken windshields of the employees? TV: Students and employees had broken windshields from the flying Red Scoria, especially in the A-1 parking lot. The social science building had that Red Scoria roof as did administration. As we started replacing roofs, we started the single ply roofs. That's what started the process rolling. We still had to have red because those were the campus standards at the time. I have a confession. The first white roof on this campus is on the science lab building. I was responsible for that project and I picked white. RL: Were you thinking of heating? 36 TV: Absolutely. I was thinking about the air conditioning and the reflection of that roof in the summertime. I kind of violated the campus standard and I don't know if Bob Folsom realized that or not. Anyway, that is my confession. RL: They can't get you for it now. TV: They can't come after me. Now we are all going with cool roof as our standard. The Stromberg Center roof is being replaced now. I think the Browning Center still has the Red Scoria roof on it as does student services. RL: When the student union building was remodeled and added to, was the roof changed then? TV: That's right. That was built with the cool roof concept. There are a lot of lighting innovations and a lot of variable frequency drives in there. In a nutshell, rather than a big fan system with a 100 horsepower motor that ramps up right away, when you hit the switch, the variable frequency drives allow you to ramp up slowly to avoid sudden starts and a big spike in your energy consumption. That's hard on the motor, the bearings, the belts and you name it. There are two different ways that we're billed for energy. First, is our consumption in kilowatt hours and second, is our demand in kilowatts. When you get a big spike on an electric motor and you've got them all coming on within a certain timeframe, your bill goes up. The variable frequency drives are now our standard. We started incorporating those in the late 1990's. Another great energy saving feature of VFD's is that they provide us with the ability to run our fan systems at a reduced percentage of total load, depending upon the demands of the building. 37 RL: I would imagine those white roofs have made quite a bit of difference in reflection. TV: Absolutely. We have done so many things and those cool roofs have definitely paid off. RL: You've been here long enough that you were here to deal with that rounded cover that we had over the library. We used to watch when the wind came up and it would be moving and buckling. TV: Are you talking about the skylight? RL: Yes. TV: I remember having to replace that. There was a wind storm and we had the guys from the carpenter shop throwing ropes and cables on trying to tie it down and doing anything we could do to keep that thing from getting airborne. Of course, it was tearing up the roof all the way around it. RL: We made sure we didn't have to walk from wing to wing in there because we didn't know if the roof would disappear and you'd get sucked out too. TV: It was all hands on deck trying to save that skylight. It's one of those things where it's put in place and you don't know what the consequences are going to be until you get a severe event like some of those that we had. There have been some innovations that have failed us. The Dee Events Center was built with an epoxy type of a roof. It was a much different configuration than what you see on the roof now. RL: Epoxy like super glue? 38 TV: Yes. They'd just build it up and coat it in fiberglass and epoxy. The downside is that it was not exactly proven technology at the time, and after a while the combination of all the elements the thing started to peel and we had leaks in the Dee Events Center. The roof looked terrible. It looked like a giant hamburger bun. Through the process of evolution, we ended up with the roof that we have now. It was one of those things that didn't work out very well for us. Sometimes learning experiences come hard and that was one of them. RL: We've progressed through the different buildings. We had the student services building and Elizabeth Hall which is a little bit different. You said that we got away from the campus standard when we got away from the red roof. What about a standard as far as bricks or building colors? TV: Actually, that is still in effect. The brick color is called golden buff. That's our campus standard brick and you see it everywhere. RL: Except the business building. How did that happen to turn out the way it did? TV: That was a sore spot with Bob Folsom. We had a dean at the time that wanted something unique. RL: What year would that have been? TV: That would have been about 1980 or 1982. It was one of the first major buildings built after I arrived on campus. I remember Bob Folsom was very upset about the glass, but Sterling Sessions forced that issue through. He was a very forceful individual and he was determined that he was going to have his way and he got it. It was a major sore spot with Bob Folsom that he was able to do that. There 39 are still some elements on that building that are the standard brick, but it isn't pronounced. RL: At that time, the glass building would have been the trend, wouldn't it? TV: Correct, but Bob was the architect and everything had to match. The student service building is also somewhat innovative with the exposed concrete and things like that. The architect's name was Astel Erickson. I was involved in that building. We had some nightmares in the student services building too. From an energy standpoint, it was highly inefficient. We have all these great big high intensity discharge lighting. They are 175 watt HID and 250 HID and they were pointed upward through a skylight so that people could enjoy the ambience at night. I remember fighting him about that. They're up there 24 feet and I wondered how in the world we were going to change those light bulbs. I was basically told that was a maintenance problem. So, we just let them burn out. That was our energy efficiency. It no longer shines up to the skylight in the middle of the night. I never saw the architect drive by too often to see that. He was the same architect that did the Allied Health Science Building phase one. We had a lot of leaks in that building from the sloped glass. You'd get a pinhole and it'd start to work, but the wind would make it move and it would leak. We've done that about three times to try and keep the leaks out and it still leaks. It's just inherent in that type of structure. RL: The new dorms have normal windows and no big glass feature. It looks as though the new Stromberg addition is going to have a lot of glass. Is that going to 40 have a lot of glass in an open area? What will that do in terms of glass facing toward the west as far as requiring more air conditioning because of the heat with the late afternoon sun? TV: Remember when I was saying that if engineers built everything they'd all look like Wal-Marts? That building was kind of an ugly building and it needed some help. It was not a very welcoming building. I see both sides of the equation. West facing glass is an energy manager's nightmare, but you have to be sensitive to the overall picture of things. That building is going to be spectacular. They've done everything they can as far as minimizing the impact on the HVAC. We have the low emissivity glass that is going to be throughout. The sun shining through is still going to have an impact, but we're trying to minimize that impact. RL: Has it grown as the project has progressed? TV: No, this was from square one. RL: Was it? The early drawings that we had seen, it was a much smaller approach and it was really just going to be an entryway. Now it looks like major facilities are being added. TV: It's funny you should mention that because I kind of picked up on that myself. From the conceptual drawings that I saw, this has grown. I'm not in the project management end anymore, so I'm not sure how this evolved. It is going to be a big addition. RL: Now you're doing the energy analysis, not necessarily having anything to do with construction? 41 TV: Yes. I do a lot of energy analysis and scheduling of our buildings. We waste a lot of energy at night because the lights are on and nobody is home. The building automatic and control is a complex system where all the buildings are tied into our central automation center. Of course, we have controllers, wires, panels, and variable frequency drives in all of our fan systems so there are a lot of things that can go wrong. Part of my job is to look at all the spikes in consumption. I get read outs as often as I want to download them. I can see all the spikes in consumption and I figure out what is causing the spike or the increase in the loads in a specific building. We are soon going to be able to meter every building on this campus for electricity, chilled water, steam, water, domestic water, and natural gas, but to do that we have to have all of these meters installed. They all have to have certain set points and parameters to set them. Another part of my job is to dig out all of the information for a particular building and what it requires so they can adjust the control set points to the demands of the building. RL: While you're working on this project, have you been able to find things that have required big changes that you were able to influence? TV: We've made a lot of big changes. Have you been to Dee Events Center lately? RL: Not lately. TV: The primary responsibility for this belongs to Jake, but I'm kind of a sounding board too. That kid is smart. Don't tell him I said that, okay? In the Dee Events Center arena, we had forty-something 1500 watt HID lamps. Including the ballasts that were probably pulling at least 2,000 watts a piece. Multiply that by forty-something and all of a sudden you've got a big electricity load and also a 42 big heat load because of the heat coming off the bulbs. The amount of light you get off an incandescent light bulb is about 10 or 15 percent of the actual energy input and the rest is all heat. That gives you an idea of what goes on at the top of that dome where all the heat rises anyway. We're using all LED's now. I give the credit to Jake for this one. RL: That's quite a bit cooler, isn't it? TV: Absolutely, and it's reduced the load on our chilled water plant. Plus, they're so quiet. The humming from the bulbs is gone. The first time I was in there I thought, "My gosh, it's quiet in here and all the lights are on." It's one of those side benefits from an operations perspective. We had so much trouble with those ballasts on those HID lamps. The heat was killing them and we were replacing some pretty high priced ballasts on a frequent basis as well as the light bulbs. Those LED's are supposed to last for about 20 years or some phenomenal number. It cuts back on the maintenance burden. This is a win-win. We actually had engineers show up to see how we did it. We had the University of Utah show up and ask how we did it. We have people calling us from all over the nation asking how we did it and they want to come see it. Needless to say, that makes Kevin Hansen just delighted. One of his goals was that he wanted people to come to Weber State and see what we're doing, rather than us going to them to see what they're doing. RL: You save travel money. TV: Absolutely. Plus, it puts us on the map. It's one of those really neat things that we're doing. Have you seen all the solar panels on the roof of the Swenson 43 Building? That supplies all the hot water for the swimming pool. It's almost a freebie. It cuts back on spending for natural gas. RL: Well, it cuts back on the whole global warming thing as well. TV: Absolutely, anything we can do. We've also seen a huge savings from our central chilled water plant. We send water out of the chilled water plant at 44 degrees. It goes down the campus through the pipes and goes to all the buildings and it comes back to us at about 56 degrees. When it hits the building, you don't want 44 degree air coming out of the registers, so we temper it by running a boiler. It hits the reheat coils which are supplied by hot water. So, basically, we're cooling off all this air and then heating it up at the room level. There's something wrong with this picture. So, when we had to shut down our central steam system for the new boiler installation, we thought, "Let's use this opportunity to accomplish several things, like some much needed repairs in our tunnel system and raise the set point on our chilled water plant to where we are now pushing down 54 to 55 degree water, and let's see what happens." Last year, we hit one million dollars in savings over our base year by doing just that. Rocky Mountain Power has kind of a love-hate relationship with us. They've built new plants to supply us, but we're saving a lot of energy and a lot of money for the campus. Those are the fun things that we get to do. I remember Jake telling me that, after we raised the set-point on our chillers, Rocky Mountain Power sent their technicians to our sub-station on two separate occasions to verify that the meter was working properly. The energy savings were that substantial. 44 We're working on projects now where I'm still identifying each individual fan system and scheduling when it runs and how often we should change the filters from both an energy perspective and an operational cost savings perspective. It takes more energy to push air through a dirty filter than it does a clean one. We still have to maintain a certain quality of air coming through our campus. I think we overachieve in that aspect. We're using a Merv-13 filter, to replace the old Merv-8. The rating has to do with the amount of particles that are trapped. The higher the number, the more particles you trap. With these Merv- 13's we're able to maintain the air quality and we only have single stage filters instead of two-stage filters to do the same thing. We're saving money on the operations end and by changing them on a regular basis we save energy. You make it a win-win situation for everybody. The customer is happy and we're happy. We're saving money from not only energy, but from our operations maintenance budget. RL: I was going to ask you if we are making enough power that it does not have to be purchased by Rocky Mountain. TV: We're not to that point yet. We have several proposals in the works. Right now between the Davis campus and the union building, we might be at 8 percent of our total usage. We have plans in the works for Davis in particular. There's a lot of wide open space out there. It's in the planning stages and we're running the numbers to see if we can fund it. We want to generate at least 40 percent of our energy consumption for the Davis. This is in the future. That's what keeps me hanging around and showing up to see what happens next. 45 RL: Could you have windmills? TV: We're thinking about that. The permitting is a nightmare. I think a guy at the mouth of Weber Canyon found that out the hard way that it's a nightmare. You have to have a certain velocity of wind. The mouth of the canyon is really high velocity wind. RL: It can't be sporadic. It has to be steady. TV: You don't want this thing to get airborne on you. It has to be somewhat constant wind flow rather than in the morning the wind blows like heck at the mouth of the canyon and it dies off in the afternoon. I don't know if Davis has the velocity. There are a whole bunch of studies that we have to do. RL: Solar panels are good anyway. TV: Solar panels are great. The cost is coming down and the efficiency is going up and that's why I bought them for my house. I'm looking at a four to five year payback on my investment with all of the tax incentives and rebates applied. They become more and more viable all the time. It's also a good recruiting tool. Students show up and they see the solar panels everywhere. The new generation is thinking green and they pick up on these things. It's a recruitment tool, an energy efficiency tool, and it cuts down on the wear and tear on our equipment. RL: Earlier you talked about people who mentored you over the years. Have you had opportunities to pay it forward? TV: I try and take every opportunity. We have a bunch of young guys up there. RL: A lot of enthusiasm, but you have to curb it a little bit, don't you? 46 TV: I'm able to mentor these young guys and show them the how and the why. Jake is to the point now that he can fly on his own. He knows about the politics and how to get things done. I'm still kind of a sounding board and we discuss things. In my many years there, we had a lot of people who were content to complain about their position in life, but didn't want to do anything about it. I remember one young man that used to work for me. He came to me and told me that he wants my job. I said, "Okay, well here's what you have to do." I started laying it out for him and said, "You need your degree and you already have one of those, but the next person that sits in my chair will have a master's degree." His response was, "I can't do that." I said, "If you still want my job, this is the way you're going to have to get it." He decided not to go back to school and all I heard were his reasons why not rather than, "I can do that." The person who took over in my position has a master's degree. It has become more prevalent in what is now a profession thanks to Mike Perez and Kevin Hansen. It is now a profession, not just a bunch of maintenance guys in bib overalls. RL: It's not an internship. TV: That's right. We have some bright young guys coming up. There's a young plumber up there named Dustin. He's a real character in his own right. He wants to know how things work. He's planning his future, he's taking classes, and he's getting his degree. I have an electrician who is the same way. They can see what they have to do to succeed. RL: It's not just hands-on, it's got to be an underpinning understanding. 47 TV: Right. The hands-on is the foundation. You know how things work, but now you have to figure out why it works. Those are the type of guys you try and mentor. There's another young lady who works for us named Jenn Bodine. She's about the smartest person I've run across too. She has her master's degree, but now she's curious about mechanical type stuff. She's going back to school to get her mechanical engineering degree. I say, "Hey Jenn, I'm going down on campus, do you want to come? Let's go see how this works." That's what I get to do. That's another fun part of my job. I get to do those things now, whereas I didn't have time before. RL: Okay, so we've touched on your time as a student and how you've progressed professionally. We've talked about your relationship with administrators and other individuals on campus. What haven't we covered that's important from your time here at Weber? TV: One of the more outstanding personalities from our facility is John Burkes. John was born and raised in Tupelo, Mississippi, and came to Weber State University about four years after I did. I met John one day at the old racquetball courts in the Swenson Gym. He was looking for a game and so was I. Over the course of the next 20 plus years, we became quite good friends. We played golf together, played a lot of racquetball and went on fishing trips together, the most notable of which was to the Kenai River in Alaska. I learned how to play racquetball by taking classes from Lyn Corbridge. Even though "Corb" is a few years older than I am, I could never beat him one-on-one. I also played a lot of racquetball with Ron Deeter and Scott Loughton. Mike Vause is another real character that I 48 came to know quite well. The English Department seemed to have a lot of them for some reason. RL: Connections that one wouldn't necessarily associate with as someone in your position and yet it's more of a social thing, but I'm sure it comes in handy as you're trying to do your job. TV: It's those intangibles that you cannot put your finger on. It's not all about salary and benefits. It's the other perks like the interpersonal relationships, the gym time, and the ability to interact with the deans and professors. RL: Let's face it, in higher education regardless of your position, you're not here for the money. TV: You're not going to die rich from this place, but it's good all the way around. You have to look at the total picture. That's what kept me here for all these years. Many years ago, the student body president here at the time, Mike Aarve, wanted a "W" on the mountain like the big "Y" at BYU and the "U" at the University of Utah. I remember it went through a whole bunch of stages and I asked, "You want that thing where?" He wanted it above the campus. There's a road there that sits right up on the side of the bald face hill. I thought, "How in the world are we going to do that?" You can't pump the concrete up there. At the time, all they had was a bunch of rocks or a white wash that was the "W." Anything to do with concrete or anything like that was totally impractical. So, they hatched this idea that they wanted a living "W" on the mountain made out of trees. This was in 1982, and I remember that specifically because Dean Hurst 49 and I were on top of the administration building with a transit and we had guys all over the side of this mountain laying out this "W." RL: Was Dean over in development at the time? TV: I think he was. I had a broken collarbone at the time from the same motorcycle that I got my separated shoulder from. I had the radio and Dean had the transit and we were making these guys move all these 2x6's. They were going all over this mountain laying out this great big "Flaming W" and it was huge. The students all got together and raised the funds. We put a drip irrigation system in with a pump and I think the pump house is still there. I can't remember the exact number, but we hauled up thousands of trees. RL: What kind of trees? TV: They were Dwarf Sumac. We had a daisy chain of students and football players and digging them in with peat moss and we got all those dog gone trees up there. When we finished, we walked down and started admiring our work. Later on, it became apparent that something was going on up there because the trees were disappearing. What happened was we planted all those trees and the deer went nuts. They had a built-in smorgasbord. The official parting line was, "It's all the alkaline in the soil that killed the trees." A young man in our office was doing layout work for the new "Flaming W" a couple of years ago and he told me that the stumps are still there. That was one of our more notable, funny failures. RL: Oops. Was that paid for with student funds? TV: I don't know exactly how they paid for it all, but I think lot of it was donor funds. 50 RL: Well, it was a good idea. TV: Nobody researched that very well. RL: Now we have the flaming "W" that's lit just a couple of times a year. Is that done on extension cords or did you actually have to wire the mountain side? TV: Actually, they have a portable generator they take up there. Remember I was talking about, Lynn Kraaima? That was his responsibility. He'd haul a generator up there every year for homecoming and light the "W." It's a different configuration now than what it was back then. It's all done by generator now. I don't know who's taken that over since he died. He was one of the other great guys I met up here. I've met a lot of great people up here. RL: There's got to be a reason why we all come back and we all stay here. TV: That's right. There's got to be a reason to get us to keep getting out of bed in the morning. RL: Is there anything else that you want to talk about? TV: I could talk forever about this place, but those are the more notables. RL: I certainly appreciate you taking the time to come and talk with us. TV: I'm honored. I'm really honored with this. RL: You've given us a totally different perspective of the campus. Weber is made up of a lot of people at different levels with different responsibilities and you've shared some things about what you've worked with over the years. It all started out with a Weber education. 51 TV: That's right. It all started out with trying to catch those old fish in front of the campus. We do have an aerial photo of campus that was taken in the early 1960's that shows that house and the pond. RL: What was that house used for? TV: I'm not too sure what the house was used for at the time. We had a lot of residences that were along Harrison Blvd. There used to be a road that came right down past the bell tower. I remember parking my car there so I could go to my classes in the TUB. It connected with the road by the administration building and there was a row of houses in there. The university acquired a lot of houses over the years. RL: Speaking of white buildings and houses. Were you here when the president's residence burned down? TV: I was not. I came right after that. That's when Joseph Bishop was here. RL: So your memories are of different white buildings? TV: Yes, this was on Harrison Boulevard and the aerial photo shows it. It's a validation of what I think I remember from my junior high school days. RL: That's wonderful. Thank you for taking the time to come talk with us. We appreciate it. TV: Thank you for the opportunity. This has been great for me. It's been a lot of fun. 52

Issue 12.1 of the Review for Religious, 1953. ; Review t:or ~eligious Volume XII January December, 1953 Publlshed'at ~ THE COLLEGE PRESS Topeka, Kansas , "Edited by THE JESUIT FATHERS SAINT MARY'S COLLEGE St. Marys, Kansas REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS is indexed in ÷he CATHOLIC PERIODICAL INDEX ¯ The C rt:husi ns Jerome Breunig, S.J. ~"HE centuries-old Carthusian Order is breaking ground in the | NewWorld and the eyes of America are watching with interest. Through the generosity of a benefactress and with the approval of the Bishop of Burlington, the Most Rev. Edward F. Ryafi~, a pio-neer band, consisting of two Carthusian priests and two lay brothers with some Americancandid~ates, has established the first ~ommunity at Sky Farm near Whitingham in the Vermont hills. The very name Carthusian is pronounced, with reverence on Catholic lips, and in .many minds it represents the ultimate in austerity and deep spiritual-ity. The coming of the Carthusians brings many questi~ons to mind. Is there place for them today? Aren't they passe, a respected' relic of the past? Just how old are they? Who founded them and why? Do they differ from the Trappists? What do they do? What did they do? How do they live? Is it true that they do not eat meat, that they do not heat their rooms, that they always wear a hairshirt? Are there Carthusian nuns? Many of these and similar questions are answered in the Apos-tolic Constitution of Pius XI, Umbratilem, in the booklet, The Car-thusian Foundation in America, and in tw~o recent books that com.- plement each other: The Cartbusians, which gives a detailed factual' description ,of their life, and The White; Paradise, which is a glowing account of his visit to the chartethouse ~it La Valsainte in.Switzer-land by the gifted autho£-conv~rtI, Peter van der Meer de Walcheren. Mo~t of the information in this article is taken from these four sources. Any questioning of the validity; and modern relevance of the Carthusians should be cut short by Umbratilem, the Constitution issued on July 8, 1924, when the Statutes of the Carthusian Order were. approved in conformity with the new dode of Canon Law. This important document on the contemplative life states clearly at the, outset that Carthusians h~ive chosen the better part, and holds up their life to the, admiration and imitation of all. ".All those, who, according to their .rule~ lead a life of solitude 'remote from the din and follies of" the world, and who not only ~3 JEROME BREUNIG Reoiew for Religious assiduously cbntemplate the divine mysteries and the ~ternal truths, and pou~ forth ardent.and continual prayers to God that his king-- dom may flourish and be daily spread more widely, but who also atone for the sins of other men still more than for their own by mortification, prescribed or voluntary, of mind and body--such indeed must be said to have choser~ the better part, like~ Mary of Bethany. "For no more perfect state and rule of life than that *can be pro-posed for men to take up and embrace, if the Lord calls them to it. Moreover, by the inward holiness of those who lead the solitary life in the silence of the cloister and by their most intimate union with Gbd, is kept brightly shining the halo of' that holiness which the spotless Bride of Jesus Christ holds up to the admiration and imita- ~tion of all." The document also mikes it clear that there is need for Carthu- .sians today. "For, if ever it was needf_ul that there should be ancho; rites of that sort in the Church of God it is most specially expedient nowa'days "when we see so (nany Christians-living without a thought for the things of the next world and utterly regardless of their eter-nal salvation,° giving rein to their desire for earthly pelf and the pleasures of the flesh an'd adopting and exhibiting publicly as well as in their private life pagan manners altogether opposed to the Gospel. ¯ . . It is, besides, easy to understand how they who assiduously fulfil the duty of prayer and penance contribute much l~ore to the increase of the Church and the welfare of mankind than those who labo~ in tilling the Master's field; for unless the former drew down from heaven a shower of divine graces to water the field that" is being tilled, the evangelical laborers would reap forsooth from their toil a more Scanty crop." The Founder An authentic hunger for God led a diocesan priest-educator in the eleventh century to formulate a" way of life that h'appily blends community life with thelife of solitude and keeps the advantages of each form. This life was first put into practice in 1082 by the same priest and six companions at Chartreuse in the Alps of Dauphin~, in Southern France, and endures to our day. From the extant r~cord of tributes after his death, this priest, whom we know as St. Bruno, was one of the great men of his time. Besides noting Bruno's talents as a preacher, writer, and educator, these tributes single out three vir-tues for which the saint was conspicuous: spirit of prayer, extreme January, 1953 THE CARTHUSIANS mortification, and filial devotion to Our Lady, virtues also conspicu-ous in his Order. Born in Cologne, St. Bruno (1030-i l~J)'studied at the episco-pal school at Rbeims. After his ordination he remained at this school for 25 Years as '.teacher~, principal, and "diocesan superintendentl) of schools. After a short term as chancellor of the diocese he evaded the efforts of the clerg~ to make him their bishop by "~scaping" to Chartreuse in 1082. In .I090 Pope Urban II called his former teacher, St. Bruno, to Rome to be his counsellor. The orphaned community wavered in their vocation for a time and later even deserted by.following their founder to Rome, but after a year they returned to their hermitages at Chartreuse. Though Sty. Bruno made the ground plan for the Carthusian Order, it was the fifth general, Guigo the Venerable (1109-1136) wh6 xvrote the Consuetudines, the first Statutes of the Order. "The Consuetudines are the Carthu-sian gospel, Guigo our evangelist and Saint Bruno our founder and lawgiver" (The Carthusians, 17). The Life of Solitude In Rome is a famous statue of St. Bruno by~Houdon. It is so lifelike, the comment is: "It would speak if his rule did not compel him to silence." Silence and solitude, so essential to the Cartbusian life, are insured by providing each monk with a separate hermitage consisting of four distinct rooms and an enclosed ghrden plot. There is a storeroom and work shop, usually on the first floor, and, above, an ante-chamber called the Ave Maria, because it honors a statue of, Our Lady, and an "'inner chamber" or living room. A private wash-room is also provided. In the cell proper the monk has a prayer-stall, desk and book cas~, a bed, and a small table for meals. Except on Sundays and feast days the meals are brought to an opening in each cell. There is never any breakfast and m~at'is never permitted even in sickness. From September 14 to Easter the evening meal is cut down to a collation of dry bread and whatever is the most com-mon drink of the country. Penitential as it is; the diet seems to insure longevity rather than shorten life. The cell is the monk's "living toom." Except for community exercises and the occasional recreation periods the monk never leaves his hermitage. He lives for God and God alone. Here he devotes whole hours to study, to spiritual reading, and to prayer, including mental prayer, the part of the Divine Office not said in choir, the JEROME BREUNIG . Reoieto for Religious Office of Our Lady. and sometimes the Office of the Dead¯ Since "the harp needs a rest,", th~ monk relaxes from time to time with light manual work such as sawing wood for his fire, cultivating his gar-den. making religious articles, and caring for the hermitage. No siesta is permitted and the night's sleep is always broken into two periods of about three and a half hours each by the night Offce. The Comrnunit~ Life The community life which tempers the solitude provides a~ frame-work with a fixed daily'order and sustains the courage of each monk by mutual good example. 'jBrother helped by brother-makes a strong city." The main daily communal exercises are the chanting of the night Office and of Vespers and the conventual Mass. On Sundays and feast days the rest of the Office except Compline is-chanted, meals arc taken in the refectory, and there is a recreation period. Besides there is a weekly walk outside the enclosure.- ,This period is called, the spatiarnenturn and lasts about three and a half hours. Dom I.e Masson an outstanding general of the order'(1675~- 1703). says of this exercise: "It is only with the greatest reluctance that I excuse from the spatiarnentum, and then. on!y to tbe aged. So great, it appears to me. is the utility of this walk for good both of body and soul . More easily and willingly would I exempt a car-thusian monk from the night Office for some days, or from fasts, of th~ Order. than from the spatiarner~tum." (The Cartbusians. 62.) What They Did Onl.y eternity will unfold the~ contribution of the Carthuslan Order to~ the glory, ~: God- and .the salvation of souls. Even in recorded history the order is eminent in providing the Church with saints, beati, and saintly bishops, archbishops, and a few cardinals. Perhaps the greatest s!ng[e contribution is the'treasure of writings in ascetical and m~stical theology. The only wealth of any kind in a charterbouse was to be found in the library. Scbolarship'was always held in high esteem and the monks helped enrich other libraries as well as their own ldy providing both copyists and eminent writers. Besides St. Bruno,' who is said to have written bi~ famou~ commen~ ¯ tary on the Epistles of St. Paul when at Chartreuse, the list of writers includes Ludolf of Saxony, whose Vita Cbris~ti was so influential for centuries~ Dionysius the Carthusian called the Ecstatic Doctor, who has written more than St: Augustine; John Lansperg, who ~_~te of Devotion to the Sacred Heart before St: Margaret Mary l and Lau- danuar~t, 1953 THE CARTHUSIANS rentius Surius, whose Vitae still help supplement the work of the ~3011andists. The official document of the Church Ur~bratilem is quite articu-late about the contribution of the Carthusians to the. religious life. "In his great kindness, God, who is ever attentive to the needs and well-being of his Church, chose Bruno. a man of eminent sanctity, for the work of bringing the contemplative life back to the glory of it~ original integrity: To that intent Bruno founded the Carthusian Order. imbued it thoroughly with his own spirit and provided it with those.laws which might efficaciously induce its members to ad, ,vance speedily along the way of inward sanctity and of the most rigorous penance, to the preclusion of every sort of exterior, ministr) and office: laws which would also impel th~em to persevere with steadfast hearts in the same austere and hard life. And it is a recog-nised fact that through nearly nine hundred years the Carthusians have 'so wel! retained the spirit of their Founder, Father "and Law- , giver that unlike other religious bodies, their Order has never in'~o long a space of time needed any amendment, or, as they say, reform." The badge of the order is appropriate. It is a globe surrounded by~ a cross and seven stars, with the motto: Star crux dum votoitur orbis terrarum The cross remains firm while the world keeps spinning around. If, persecution is a mark of Christ's followers, the Carthusians can certainly, be identified. "They have persecuted Me. they will also persecute you.'" Three Carthusian priors .were among the proto-martyrs of Henry VIII: fifteen more mohks died on the scaffold or starved to death in prison during the English persecution which practically suppressed the order in that country.~ Spain pre-vented a Carthusian foundation in Mexico in 1559, compelled the charterhouses to separate from the order in 1784, and suppressed them in 1835. The, French Revolution was the greatest blow. In ",1789 there were about 122 charterhouses. Almost all,of-them were suppressed, first in France and then throughout Europe as the French armies over-ran the continent. The restored houses in France were again disrupted in 1901 as a result of the Association Laws. Tile. Italian houses were suppressed during the course of the Risorgimento. The Carthusian Order in 1607 had about 260 houses with 2,500 choir monks and 1,300 lay brothers and donn~s. At the pres-ent time there are 18 established charterhouses witil a total of over 600 members. There are four charterhouses in France, five in Italy and Spain, and one each in Switzerland, Jugoslavia, Germany, and England. 7 January, ) 953 The Carthusian Nuns In 1245 Blessed John of Spain,, Prior of,the Charterhouse of Montrieux, was ordered to adapt the Carthusian Rule for a group of nuns at the Abbey of Pr~bayon in Provence. Since then there have never been more than ten convents for Carthusian nuns. The nuns; live in private rooms not separate buildings, have two recreations a day, eat in a common refectory, and are not obliged to wear the hair-shirt. They spend eleven hours a day in prayer, meditation, and work, and are allowed eight hours, sleep. The nuns have always been distinguished for their austere sanctity and strict observance. Out-standing among them ar~ Blessed Beatrix of Ornacieux and St. Rose-line of Villaneuve. Both lived durin'g the fourteenth century. The body of the latter is still incorrupt. At present there are four con-vents for nuns, two in France and two in Italy. BOOKS ABOUT THE CARTHUSIANS The following can be obtained from The Carthusian Foundation, Sky Farm, Whitingham, Vermont: The'Church and the Carthusians. The teaching of Pope Plus XI as contained in the Apostolic Constitution Umbratilem; Introduction, translation and Latin text. Pp. 18. $.10. The Cartbusian Foundation in America. Pp. 24. With pictures and illustrations, $.25. The Carthusians: Origin --- Splrlt--Familg Life. First p~inted in 1924. Re-printed in 1952 by the Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland, Pp. 107. $1.75. The White Paradise. The Life of the Carthusians. By Peter van der Meer de Walcheren. Witha preface by ~Jacques Maritain. David McKay Co., New York, 1952., Pp. 91. $2~00. THEOLO~Cf DI~EST Theglogy Digest, a new publication edited by ' Jesuits at. St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, is for priests, religious, seminarians, and laity who are interested 'in present-day theological thought, but who perhaps find it hard to maintain and cultivate this interest. The Digest aims to help such readers to ke~p informed of current problems and developments in theology by presenting a concise sampling of current periodical writings in America and Europe. The digests-deal with the vari-ous branches of theological learning--Apologetics. Dogmatic Theology, Scripture, Moral Theology and Canon Law, Ascetics, Liturgy, and Church History--with emphasis on the speculative rather tbar~ the pastoral aspects of theology. Published three times yearly. Subscription price in U,S.A.] Canada, and coun-tries of Pan-American Union, $2~00. Foreign, $2.25. Send subscriptions to: Theology Digest, 1015 Central, Kansas City 5, Missouri. "So Trust in God as it:. ," Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ! [AUTHOR'S NOTE: For nearly everything in this brief account I gladly and grate-fully acknowledge my indebtedness to the article by C. A. Kneller, S.J., "'Ein Wort cleshl, lonatius oon Logola,'" in the Zeitschri?t t~uer Aszese und M~stil~, 1928, 253-'257. There one will find a fuller treatment of the matter and the original texts.] ONE could hardly be familiar with modern spiritual literature and not have encounfered one or the other, or both, of these sayings attributed to St. Ignatius: "So trust in God as if all success depended on yourself, and not at all on God; but take all pains' as if you were going to do nothing, and God alone every-thing"; and the other: "S~ trust in Go.d as. if all success depended on Him, and not at all on yourself; but take all pains as if God were going to do, nothing, and you alone everything." Both rules have become commonplace. The firsl~, more paradoxical, form occurs in various editions of the Thesaurus Spiritualis Soci~tatis desu, an official collection of documents of prime importance in the spiritual formation of mem-bers of the Society and in the hands of all of them. This version was first published by the Hungarian Jesuit Gabriel Hevenesi (d. 17i5) in a little book entitled lgnatian Sparks. For every,day of the year he proposed an aphorism of St. Ignatius. They were to have some-thing of the effect, if we may use an anachronistic cgmparison, of a spark-plug upon one's daily life and fervor. The book rhust have been excellent: it went through dozens of editions, one of them being ~s late as 1909. This di'ctum, "So trust . .," is put down for January 2, a fact which suggests that in' Hevenesi's opinion it was one of the best of the maxims which he' found in St. Ignatius. The dictum has been censured as contrary to the Catholic doc-trine of grace. It implies, the objection runs~ that man carinot do anything, not even merit, toward his eternal salvation. But the maxim is not concerned with how divine and human activities are united. I~t purports to give a working rule on how to combine one's expectations with one's exertions. It has.also been argued that the saying does not make sense, and that therefore it could not have been uttered b'y St. Ignatius. In an article on "The Tensions of Catholicism" in ThoughtI 1. Thought (December, 1950), 630-662. AUGUSTINE ~. F.LLARD Reoieuv/'or Religious Father Andr~ Godin.states that Catholic hope can deteriorate in two different vfay:~. The first is.by way of "the rationalizing tendency: to march toward salvation with assurance and in a spirit of con-quest." The secohd is the "affective tendency: to attain salvation ~hrough fear and tremblirig.'; The true "Catholic equilibrium of "the two tendencies" is "to act as though all depends on God and to pray as though all depends on us." He notes that ."the formula is sometimes r~versed, but then it ,s~ems extremely banal.''~ Father Godin takes "this celebrated formula" to mean that in Christian action there should be both humility and hope, and in pra, yer anguish as wellas ardent appeal. It excludes both Quietism and Pelagian-ism. One's life becomes a unified whole, in which there are both "the tranquil certitude of Christian hope 'and the. anxiety of invocation in .prayer." . If one were perfectly united with God and as it' were identified with Him, one might well trust in God as if all success depended on oneself, that is, really, on God, and tak~ all ~pains as if. God were going to do everything, that is again, God and oneself co-operating with Him. ~Father Pinard de la Boullaye, in his Saint Ignace de Logolq Directeur d'Ames, quotes it in French translation. He ~ays that it was inspired.by the doctrine of St. Paul: "I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the growth" (I Cor.3:7). It should warn us, he adds, not to be negligent in any way on the-plea that after all it is reallyGod who accomplisl~es things. But Father Pinard de la Boullaye seems to betray a sense that there is something wrong with this direction by supplementing it immediately with another "quota-tlon from St. Ignatius (and Hevenesi also) strongly emphasizing foresight and constant self-correction: "To plan in advance,, what one is going to do, and then to examine what one has done, are two of the most.reliable rules for acting r.ightly,''~ The counsel to trust in God as if nothing depended on Him, and to exert oneself as if one's efforts were to have no effect, seems indeed to be more than a paradox or an oxymoron: how understand it as something other than a perfect absurdity? One so advised might ask, "How am I to go about formulating such a trust? What is the point in doing something expressly acknowledged to be of no avail ?" Although this first form of the maxim is in every Jesuit's 2.Ibiil~, p: 64~. 3. Thesaucu~"Spiritualis Societatis Jeiu (Bruges, 1897); No. 9, p. 604.~ 10 ~la'nua~'~ 1953 So TRUST IN G6D Tbesaurus~ oddly enough it is not the one more Commonly heard, or encountered. One is more, apt~ to meet, substantially this advice:. "Trust in God as if everythifig depended on Him, and exeft yourself as if you were'doing everything by' yourself." Given "this contrary and more intelligible .turn, the principle is said to ha;ce been a favorite guiding rule of the late eminent Arch-, bishop John I~eland of St. Paul. However, with him it underwent a further minor change: "We ought to act as if everything depe'nded on us, and pratt as if everything depended on God." Praying is sub-stituted for trusting. One of the most famohs pulpit-orators of the last century, namely, the French Jes6it Xavier de Ravignan, distin-guished for the conferences he used to give in the Cathedral of Notre Dame, Paris, in advising some of his younger religious brethren how to prepare themselves for preaching, said: "Listen to St. Ignatius, " who gives us this'meaningful counsel, 'One must do all as if one were alone in acting, and one must expect everything from God as if one ¯ had done nothing.' " This form of the saying is very common' on leaflets given to .retreatants, on :religious-calendars, holy cards, and so on. Another slightly different turn given to it is this: "Let Us ;act as bravely as if we could d6 everything, and still abandon ourselves to Providence as if we ~ould do nothing." A person who hears, that St. Ignatius advises one to act a~ if everything depended on ~ne's self and then again 'as-if nothing at all depended on one's self, may rightly '.wonder what St. Ignatius really said. Reason for wondering is enhanced when one notices the long interval of time that elapsed between Ignatius and Hevenesi, namely, .150 years. If, too, one should try to. find the' original 'words of St. Ignatius in hi~ printed works or in other first-class sources, one's wonderment could become still greater. Neither the first nor the second form of this saying is a direct~ quotation from the saint. However, the substance or idea of toe ~econd form does occur repeat-edly in the documents written by him or by his contemporar{es about Hevenesi gives, as his authority the Bologna Jesuit Carnoli (d. 1.693), Who published a life.of St. Ignatius at Venice ~n 1680. In a chapter on the faith and hope of the saint he relates the follow-ing incident. Off a certain occasion Ignatius, accompanied by Riba-' deneira, a confidant and frequent companion of his, called on~ the Spanish ambassador in Rome, the Marquis de Sarria, ~nd met with a cool reception. Ighatius's suspicion ~as that the M~rquis was piqued AUGUSTINE (3. ELLARD . . Review for Religious because~ his influence with the Pope was not considered great and his intercession was not much in demand. Then Ignatius explained to Ribadeneira that thirty years earlier the Lord had taught him to employ all permissible means in the divine service, but not to build his hope upon them. Hence neither upon the noble Marquis nor upon any other creature would he base his confidence. Carnoli does not give his source. In fact at that time it was not in print. Now it is, namely Ribadeneira's work, De Actis P. N. lgnatii.* In No. 108, the pertinent place, Ribadeneira writes: "He said to me that he thought of telling him that thirty-six [sic] years ago our Lord had given him to understand that in. matters of His holy servic'e, he ought to use all the possible legitimate means, but then to place his confidence in God, not in those means." Ribadeneira himself wrote a biography of St. Ignatius, and in the account of this visit quotes him as saying: "I shall tell him [the Ambassador], an'd I shall say it plainly, that thirty years [sic] ago I 'learned from God that in doing the work of God, I should seek all helps, but in such a way that I consider my hope to rest, not in those aids, but in Godralmselr. . s In a letter to St. Francis Borgia St. Ignatius gives expression to the same thought: "Looking to God our Lord in all things . considering it wrong to trust and hope merely in any means or efforts by themselves, and also not regarding it as secure to trust entirely in God without using the help He has .given, since it seems to me in our Lord that I ought to avail myself of all aids . I have ordered . "6 I The same Ribadeneira wrote a treatise entitled "On the Method of St. Ignatius in Governing," and in it he says: "In the matters belonging to the service of ou~ Lord that he undertook, he employed all human, means to succeed in them, with as-much care and efficiency as if success depended on them, and" he confided in God and kept himself dependent on divine Providence as if all those other human means that he took were of no effect.''7 Pinard de la B'oullaye gives several other .references to old writings which witness to St. Igna-tius's use of the sam~ principle.8 4. Monumenta Historica Societatis Jesu, Monumenta lgnatiana, Set. ,~, v. 1. 391 ; cf. 400. ¯ 5. Pedro de Ribadeneira, Vitq lgnatii Loyolae (Cologne, 1602), Lib. 5. cap. 9, 615ff. 6. Monumenta'Ignatiana, Set. 1, t~. 9 (Sept. 17, 1555), 626. 7. Ibid., Set. 4, v. 1, 466. 8. Pinard de la Boullaye, Saint lgnace de Loyola Directeur d'Ame~, p. 299. 12 January, 1953 So TRUST IN GOD This principle is also characteristic of the spirit that animates the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. In one of the most important parts of them, after stating that, to preser;;'e and perfect the Society, supernatural means should be given the priority, the Founder says: "This foundation having been laid . natural means also . . . are conducive to the same end; if however they be learned and used sin-cerely and only for the service of God, not that our trust should rest upon them, but rather that, in accordance with the order of His supreme providence, we should in this way co-operate with divine grace.''9 The very same idea, in almost identical words, is proposed in the rules for priests.1° Perhaps the latest development in the long and complicated record of this aphorism :is the,following. About the beginning of 1951 Father Joseph De Lapparent, editor of Vari~t~s Sinotogiques~ wrote to Father John B. Janssens, the General of the Society, com-plaining'that the text of this dictum as it occurs in all the different editions of the Thesaurus Spiritualis was defective. In reply Father Janssens says: "Although that form of.the saying is not without -some sense~ it must be confessed that it is twisted and far-fetched, and does not perfectly correspond to very many sayings of St. Igna-tius, as one can see in the notes already published by your Rever, encen and in the study of Father C. A. Kneller, S.J., "Ein Wort des hl. Iqnatius yon Loyola.' "'~ Father Janssens goes on to say that in getting out the Spanish edition of the Thesaurus pubiished at San-tander in 1935 the'editor did well to change th~ text to: "So trust God as if all success depended on Him, not at all from, yourself; however, exert yourself as if God were going to do nothing, and you alone.everything."~3 ~ Before the times if St. Ig.natius the well known theologian, spir-itual writer, and chancellor of the University of Paris, John Gerson (1363-1429) had said something very. similar: "Presumption re-fuses to co-operate with God, and despair will not wait for ~he co-operation of God with it. The middle course is so to act that everything may be attributed to divine giace, and so to trust in grace 9. Constitutiones Societatis desu, Pars X, n. 3. 10. Regulae Societatis desu (1932), No. 14. 11. Nouvelles de la Mission de Shanghai, Sept. 15, 1944; Oct. 31, 1947; Dec. 30, 1948. 12. Zeitschrift fuer Aszese und M~stik (1928), 253-257. , 13. Acta Romana Soc&tatis desu (1952), 137-138. 13 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD as not to give up one's own activity, doing what one can.'°14 Bossuet's conception of the matter was thus expressed: "One ought to expect everything from God, but nevertheless t0 act also. For one ought not only to pray as if God alone should do every-thing, but also to do what one can, and use one's own will with. grace, for everything is done through this co-operation. But neither should we ever forget that it is always God who takes'the initiative, for there precisely lies the basis of humility.''is St. Vincent de Paul puts it ~hus: "I cons,ider it a good maxim to avail oneself of all the means that are licit and possible for the glory of God, as if God should not help us~ provided that one expect all things' from His divine Providence, as if we did not have any human means."16 An Englishman, who like St. Ignatius, has a name in history as a military 'man and a religious leader, but was~ very unlike him in other respects, namely, Oliver Cromwell, is said to have given his followers this admonition: "Put your trust in G6d; but mind to keep your powder dry!" 14. "'De Si~nis Bonis et Malis;'" Opera (Ed. Dupin)~ III, 158 d. 15. Meditations sur l'Etaangile (40e jour).: cf. Pinard de la Boullaye, op.cit.29.9. 16. Letter t6 Markus Cogl~e (April 24, 1652), Oeuvres (Ed. P2 Coste, Paris, 19.21) ,rlV, 366. EXAMINATION OF THE PAST TWENTY-FIVE YEARS" , Proposed for Superior.s General 1. Has the love of God grown in proportion to the graces offered: daily Com-mumon, develop~ent.'of liturgical life, deeper study of Holy Scripture, increased de-vouon to Our Lady, doctrine of the Mystical Body, and way of spiritual childhood? Are there more souls of prayer in our communities? Is there a deeper sense-of God? 2. Has true charity increased within our communitie~ in thought, word, and deed? 3. Is tension caused by the quantity of work undertaken, to the detriment of patience and humility which ,should win hearts and draw them, to the religious life? -4. Has motherly charity in government rather than mere administration given a true idea of the holocaust of charity? '5. Has the pursuit of technical and p~ofessional progress obscured ~he need fo~ poverty, disinterestedness, a, nd0great lo~;e for the poor? / 6. Is the Gospelspirit of self-denial, penance, and reparation not only unques-tioned but stronger~to defend religious holiness against the spirit of the world? 7. Is more consideration given to religious who are tired and over-strained, and ".what means are taken to guard against that conditibn? 8. Have fi'iendliness between congregations, collaboration in work, the "spirit of the Church," increased? 14 Lengt:h ot: Lil:e of Religious Men: Marianist:s, 1820-195! Gerald J. Schnepp; S.M~ and John T. Kurz, S.M. ~'JHAT is the average age at death of male religious? Has their W~ length ~o~ life increased, decade by decade, with the rest of the population? Are there differences by country? Finally, how does the average age at de~ath of religious' compare with that of males in the general pdpulation? Answers to these questions are now availhble for 2,380 Marian-ists who died in the Society of Mary between 1820 and 1951. Source of the st~atistics is the latest edition of the Necrolo~g of ibe Societg of Marg which lists the name, age at death, and year and place of death of each religious who persevered.1, The Soci~ety of Mary was founded in 1817 in Bordeaux,-France, "by Very Reverend William Joseph Cha~inade: during the decade 1820-29, seven religious2 were called to their eternal reward and in succeeding decades, increasing numbers died. The congregation comprises three categories of persons: Priests, Teaching Brothers, and Working Brbthers. For the present study,s no breakdown by categories is given because, first, the Necrol-ogo does not distinguish the two types of Brothers, and secondly, the number of Priests is too small (perhaps ten per cent of the total) tO supply an adequate sample over the 130-year period covered.4 Let us take up, in order, the answers to the four questions posed. The mean or average age at death of the entire group of 2,380 Marianists is 55.7 years, with a standard deviation of 22.4 years: 1purpose of, the Necrology (Dayton, Ohio: Mount St. John Press. 1952), which also lists the exact day of death, is to recall to the li~'ing members the names of the deceased, for remembrance in their prayers: the list for the following day is read in community after the evening meal. 2Here and throughout the article is included the first Marianist to die, Brother An-thony Cantau, who passed away in Bordeaux in 1819. 3The present article is based on John Kurz, S.M., Length of Life of Male Religious (Unpublished M.A. thesis, Saint Louis University, 1952). 4Research on the lengih of life of religious priests' w~uld be of interest in the light of one study which shows that, the average age 'at death of Catholic priests in Eng-land is five per cent above the average for the general population. See Louis J. Dublin, Alfred J. Lotka, and Mortimer Spiegelman, Length of Life (New York: The RonaldPress Co., 1949), p. 219. '. 15 GERALD J. SCHNEPP and JOHN T. KURZ Ret~iew for Religious this means that approximately two-thirds of the ages at death fall between 33.3 years and 78.1 y~ars. The median age, or mid-point ¯ in the distribution, is 61.5 years. A total of 844 Marianists, or 35.5 per cent, lived out the traditional "thr~e score and ten" 70 years or beyond. These figures, it should be kfiown, are weighted by com-paratively low ages at death in the earlier years of the S'ociety. Even so, they indicate a fairly "respectable" life span. Measured in terms of service, assuming that each Marianist began his active life at the age of 18, this represents 89,726 years of service which the Society of Mary has given to the Church from 1820 to 1951.5 Concerning the second question, it is known that life expectancy all over the civilized world has been increasing during the past 130 years, the period of time covered by this study. Improved living con-ditions, better nutrition, and advances in medical science undoubt-edly all played a part in this development. Likewise, the extraordi-nary development of science and industry, along with the improve-ments in agricultural and processing techniques c6mbined to improve the quality, quantity, and variety of food. These factors had an in-fluence on the lives of all who lived during this period, including the religious who are the subjects of.this study. The facts concerning the 2,380 Marianists are presented in Table 1. During the first three decades, all deaths (except one) occurred at age 54 or less, and hence the mean ages at death are very low 23.9, 25.9, and 28.1 years. This is to be expected in a young society, since, if any deaths are to occur, they are likely to be deaths of rela-tively young religious. The length of time involved is not sufficient to enable men who joined at the usual age 15 to 25 to reach much beyond 50. But there is a steady upward progression through-out the series, with slight breaks during the 1910-19 and 1940-49 decades. The explanation ~eems to be that both were decades in which world wars occurred; in some European countries, religious in the younger age brackets served in the armed for~es, and some of them were killed. Further, during the '1910-1919 decade, the influenza epidemic interfered with normal life expectancy. In general, then, Table 1 indicates that Marianist life expectancy,has increased, decade by decade, reaching a high of 67.2 years during the 1930-39 decade. In order to make comparisons with the general population, how-ever, it is necessary to consider~ the figures for each country separately; SThis figure would be considerably larger, of course, if the services of those still living were included. Z TABLE I--Ageat Death and Decade of Death (1820-19Sl) for 2,380 ,Mar;an;sts 1820-29 1830;39 AGE GROUP 1 3 3 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 7 23.9 3 8 2 0 1 ~1 1 0 0 O 0 0 0 " 0 0 0 16 25.9 1840~49 12 14 13 2 4 4 1 1 0 0 °0 0 0 0 0 1 52 28.1 -- 1850:59 12 21 17 9 6 5 5 3 I 3 2 0 1 0 1 0 86 32.4 14.8 1860-69 5 I0 18 I1 6 8 4 8 6 5 '5 4 1 0 0 0 91 40.7 16.4 1870:79 14 28 19 I1 I0 6 10 I0 10 13 14 15 5 3 0 0 168 44.3 19.5 1880-89 1.7 22 13 10 15 8 12 10 22 17 I~ 16 8 5 ,,3 1 193 48.2 20.4 1890-99 18 34 ~20 9 5 ~,6 13 13 17 23 29 32 22 13 1 0 255 :51.8 "21.6 1900-09 5 28 I0 '4 8 "12 5 11 '17 26 32 37 30 18 8 5 256 59.2 20.6 I~10-'19 12 34 18 19 16 l0 8 16 12 23 39 46 41 30 10 3 337 57.1 20.1 1920-29 6. 23 7 . 7 4 7 I1 15 22 19 28 37 35 25 13 3 262 61.1 20.2 1930-39 2 lO 14 ll 9. 1 8 14 19 ~l 34 52 56 36 34- 14 345 67.2 18.0 1940-49 3 II 21 7 lO 6 3 8 ll 20 17 37 46 60 15 13 288 66.1 20.6 1950-51 1 .2 0 0 0 0 2 3 0 5 3 2 2 2 2 0 24 61.2 Total 111 248,175 100 94 74 83 112 137 185-217 278 247 192 87 40 2380 55.7 22.4 GERALD J. SCHNEPP and JOHN T. KURZ ¯ Reoiew for Religious this will help~to answer the third question. °World-wide figures, even if available,¯ would be misleading, since the f~ctors affecting length of life do not operate uniformly all over. It is also necessary to consider tbh figures for males 'only, since female.life expectancy is generally greater; for example, in the United States at the present time, male life expectancy is about 66 years, whereas femal~ life expectancy is about 71 years. Ten countries are represented as places of death for the 2,380 Mafianists.included in this study bui~ com-parative figures can be presented only for' France (1,314 deaths) ; Switzerland (171) ; United States (370) ; Belgium (141) ; ~and Austria (11i6) ' Statistics for .Spain (175 deaths) are unavailable in regard to the male population; smallness of sample rules out com-parative figures for the'other four countries: Japan (52) ; Italy (22) ; Russia (17) ; and C~na (2). TABLE 2 I-ireExpectancy o~r Males af Age 17 ~n France, Swlfzerland, United States, Belgium, and Austria Compared to Age at Death of MaHanlsts, by SpeciRed Time Intervals MARIANISTS WHO DIED IN FRANCE Years Average Age I. FRANCE Life Expect. atAge 17(1) ~861-65 63.4 1877-81 62.9 1891-00 63.8, 1898-03 63.3 1908-13 64.4 1920-23 65.9 1933-38 66.9 II. SWI'I'ZERLAN D 1910-11 65.5 1921-30 68.4 1931-41 70.0 I939-44 71.3 III. UNITED STATES 1930-39 70.1 1945 72.1 IV. AUSTRIA 1930-33 68.4 V. BELGIUM 1928-32 69.2 Years at Death 1860-69 42.0 1870-79 45.6 1890-99 55.2 1900-09 62.8 1910-19 " 53.3 1920-29 66.0 1930-39 ~ 71.0 MARIANISTS WHO blED 1910-19 ' 66.6 1920-29 67.5 1930-39 70.8 1940-49 74.9 No. of Deaths During Decade 77 ,153 223 129 1'99 97 116 IN" SWITZERLAND. 30 40 MARIANISTS WHO DIED IN THE UNITED STATES 1"930-39 - 70.3 ~' 87 1940-49 68.6 MARIANISTS', WHO DIEDIN AUSTRIA 1930-39 71.4 27 MARIANISTS WHO DIEDIN BELGIUM 1920-29 70.0 32 (1) Life Expectancy at Age 17 computed by interpolation from Dublin, Lotka, and Spiegelman, Length of Life and here expressed, for comparison, as expected age at death (li{e expectancy at 17, plus 17). References for the various countries: France, p. 346 ; Switzerland,' p. 348 ; United States, p, 324 ; Austria and Belgium, p. 346. January, 1953 LENGTH OF LIFE As is noted from Table 2; the comparisons are not perfect, "be-cause statistics from the various countries are not always available by decades. Since it may be assumed that all the Marianists had sur-vived at least the first 17 years of life (17 is the ordinary age for taking first vows), the figures, for the various countries are presented on the basis of life expectancy at age 17. A cursory examination of the tables will bear out this general conclusion: Mariani~t life ex-pectancy is about the same as, or somewhat more favorable than, that of the general male population of each country in the years since 1900; prior to' that time,. Marianist life .expectancy was somewhat lower, and in the early years of the Society; considerably lower, than the general male life expectancy. Another way of looking at this is to return to the figures in Table I. If only the 1,512 Marianists who died since 1900 are considered, it is found that 712 or 47.1 per cent lived to age 70 or beyond. Another matter of interest is the average length of life by coun-try. Tbis is available for our study but not for the male population of the ten countries over the span of years that Marianists have been working in those countries. The figures, in' order from highest to lowest, are: Belgium, 69.2 years; Switzerland, 65.8 years; United States, 60.5 years: Italy, 58.4 years: Spain, 57.5 years;: France, 53.6 years: Austria, 52.9 years: Japan, 46.8 years; Russia, 39.8 years; and'China, 22.5 year~. It should again be pointed out that these averages are b;]sed on a small number of cases in-,regard" to Japan, Italy, Russia, and China. For the rest, cautious comparison with the over-all average of 55.7 years seems to be justified. The only couff-tries with a large number of deaths which fall below this. general average are France and Austria. Compulsory military service and war undoubtedly are factors in both cases; and, for France, the cradle of the Society, it must be remembered that figures extend back to 1820 when general life'expectancy was not so high as it became in later years. The over-all conclusion, from this study is that life expectancy of Marianists for the past 50 years has been about the same as that of the general male population. Since the unmarried population has a lower life expectancy than the general population,6 ~tbese Marianist figures demand some explanation. Why do these Marianists-- 6"Among white males at ages 20 and over in the United States in 1940, the single had a death rate just 1 2/5 times that of the married." Dublin, Lotka, and Spiegelma~, op. cir., p. 140. 19 GERALD J. SCHNEPP and JOHN T. KURZ Ret~iew for Religious all unmarried of course--have a higher life expectancy than 'other unmarried males in the population? Explanations readily suggest themselves: the screening process by which only healthy persons are accepted in'to the congregation; the fact that most of these men were male teachers, an occupational classification with a higher than aver-age life expectancy? lack of financial and dbmestic worries; regular-ity of life, i~ncluding regular hours for prayer, work~ recreation, meals, and sleep; easy access to good medical care; and, in the United States, exemption from military service. Less certain as a factor is the loss, through defection, of individuals who, if they had perse-vered, might tend to decrease the average age at death. Although it is impossible to state, from the present study, that these are the factors at work, they are mentioned here as suggestions for a more ambitious project which might be undertaken in the future. It would also be profitable to make similar studies of other religious orders and con-gregations of men and of women; to consider Priests and Brothers separately; and to make some inquiries int.o the causes of death. The general value of such studies is to provide an answer to the recurring criticism that religious life, from a physical and/or psycho-logical point of view, is unnatural and harmful. For the particular order or con. gregat!on, such studies are valuable in guiding the ad-ministration in such matters as recommendation of religious for ad-vanced studies; appointments to serve as superiors: .policies on diet and medical care; adaptation of religious life to modern conditions; and provision for the aged members who, according to all indica-tions, will be progressively more numerous in the future, propor-tionately, than ever before. Since these considerations may seem to put too much emphasis on the natural, it must not be overlooked that the Will of God in regard to the death of each religious is a fact; however, we may be certain that God does not prohibit but rather commands that all natural means be used to prolong that life as long as possible. 7Ibid, p. 219. OUR CONTRIBUTORS THOMAS SULLIVAN, the designer of a special Communion card for patients (REVIEW, Sept. 1952, p. 248),is chaplain at St. Luke,s Hospital, Aberdeen, South Dakota. GERALD J. SCHNEPP and ALBERT MUNTSCH are-professors of sociology at St. Louis University, St. Louis, ,Missouri; the latter has been teaching 49 years. JOSEPH F. GALLEN teaches canon law at Woodstock College, Wood-itock. Maryland. AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD and JEROME BREUNIG are members of' the editorial board. 20 Canonical oVisi!:at:ion ot: Nigher Superiors ,Joseph F. GaIlen, S.J. THE visitation of the houses 9f a religious institute by the higher. superiors and the local Ordinary, since it is prescribed by canons 511-512, is called the canonical visitation. The pur-pose of this article is to explain the visitation of higher superiors. 1) Frequencg of visitation. The Code of Canon Law does not determine the frequency of the visitation of higher superiors. In the practice of the Sacred Congregation of Religious in appro',;ing the constitutions of lay congregations, which is and should be closely imitated by diocesan institutes, the far more common norm is ~hat the superior general, personally or throug~ anothe~ religious, visits the entire congregation at least every three years, even in congrega-tions that are divided into provinces. Many institutes not divided into provinces, realizing that they lack the customary annual visita-tion of a provincial; prescribe a greater frequency of visitation by the superior general, for example, every second year, at least every second year, or annually. This desirable greater frequency cannot be pre, scribed in many congregations because of their large number of sub-~ jects, the great territorial extent of the institute, or both, A much lower number of congregations command a visitation by the superior general only once every six years, but at least this is commanded in the .practice of.the Holy See for lay institutes, even in those that are very extensive and large. By far the greater number of institutes im-pose an annual visitation by the provincial; a small number limit this obligation to one visitation in three years or two in three years. The annual visitation' is the much more preferable norm and it may always be made, even when not commanded by the constitutions. Some constitutions permit the provincial ~o omit the visitation during the year that the house has been or is to be visited by the supe-rior generhl, but a prudent provincial will hesitate to use this privi-lege unless some rare business of greater moment demands or counsels the omission of the visitation. A provincial cannot make the annual appoint.ments satisfactorily to himself or to others unless he knows both his subjects and the facts. 2) Moral oblioation of making the visitation. Canon 511 per- 2.1 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Relfgious mits .the particular constitutions to determine the frequency and even to omit any prescription, as to the frequency of the visitation. If the constitutions have 'commanded a determined frequency, canon 511 imposes an obligation immediately in conscience on the higher supe-riors to make the visitation according to this frequency. The omis-sion 'of the visitation, without a justifying, reason, is thus a sin. Many canonicalauthors hold that this obligation is grave.1 The~sin .is certainly.grave if the culpable omission of the visitation is the ~:ause of the existence or continuance of a serious relaxation of reli- :gious discipline or of any another seriously harmful situatio'n.2 3) The obligation is personal. Canon 511 permits a higher :superior to designate another to make the prescribed visitation only when he is l~gitimately prevented from doing so himself. Legitimate impediments are the following and others of about the same import: sickness, infirmity, old age, the great territorial extent or large num-ber of subjects of the institute or province, other business 'of serious mom, ent, and long or frequent absences on visitation that impede the proper government of the institute or province. It is evident' that such reasons will frequently excuse from only part of the visitation': Houses omitted from a visitation should ordinarily be given the pref-erence in the following visitation. A few of the excusi.ng reasons will lose" some and even all of their cogency if the higher superior is given an efficient secretary and freed from the work of a typist' and clerk. The lack of proper "courtesy is also a time-consuming element in the lives of higher superiors. Matter~ that fall within the compe-tence of local superiors should not be brought to higher superiors. Subjects should ordinarily not seek an interview for matters that can be despatched by letter. Whgn an interview is necessary, proper courtesy demands that a subject request an interview by'l~tter. The telephone should be used only when a request or a matter is urgent. It.is obviously inconsiderate and discourteous to drop in on a higher superior at any time and to expect an interview. We can .all al~o render the lives of higher superiors more useful, fruitful, and peace-ful by coming to the point quickly and sticking to it. Reasons ex-cusing from making the visitation are to be interpreted more liberally for the superior general than for the provincial. 1. Beste, 335; De Carlo, n~ 92: Fanfani, n. 70; Fine, 981: Gerster, 263; Geser, q. 364; Piatus Montensis, ,,L 636; Pruemmer, q. 170; Schaefer, a. 558; Vromant, n, 396, 2); Wernz-Vidal, III, n. 145. ¯ 2. Cf. Wernz-Vidal, III, n. 148. 22 danuar~lo 1953 : CANONI~U., VISITATION The'.understanding of the constitutions in a particular institute may be that the higher superior has full liberty either to make the visitation personally or to delegate another as visitor. This interpre-tation is more likely to be verified if the constitutions omit the.clause of candn 511, "if legitimately impeded," and is far more readily ad-mitted for the superior general than for the provincial. Aliteral in-terpretation of canon 511 leads to the conclusion that a higher supe-rior must delegate another for any visitation that he cannot make personally. This is also the: teaching of authors and is at least gen-erally true. However, if a personal visitation is mostrarely omitted, I do notbelieve that there exists a certain obligation to delegate an-other as visitor unless a, situation in the institute, province, or house clearly demands a visitation. Higher superiors are to be slow to ex-cuse themselves and to delegate a visitor. Su,bjects quite generally find it difficult to talk to a-delegated visitor. 4) Constitutions that do not prescribe ~isitations. Canon 511 does not directly command higher superiors to make visitations; it merely enforces any obligation of visitation imposed by the constitu-tions., If the particular constitutions do not impose a visitation, the higher superior has no.obligation but he always has the right of making a visitation. Some constitutions do not oblige the superior general to make visitations, but this would be unthinkable in the case of a provincial and also in that of a superior general of an institute not divided into provinces, , Canon ~I 1 is principally concerned with centralized institutes and thus with general and provin'cial superiors, who are the higher superiors in such institutes. These institutes can also have superiors of vice-provinces, quasi-provinces, regions, missions, districts, and vicariates, who should, as a general principle, follow the same norms-of visitation 'and of frequency as provincials. The canon also extends to the superiors of monastic congregations and confed.erations and ac-cordingly now affects the superior general or president lind regional superiors in federations and confederatiohs of nuns established cording to the counsel of the apostolic constit.ution, Sponsa Christi. ~,The constitutions of some institutes of ,religious. women factu-' ally consisting of many houses and engaged in the active life., contain no prescriptions on visitation, because by law they, are nuns or.con-. gregations of sisters whoseconstitutions.have been,taken from orders of nuns. The mothers superior of such institutes should make visita-tions according to the norms detailed-abo~e for .superiors general. 23 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reoieto for Religious Theseinstitutes are factually centralized, and the purpose of a visita-tion is at least as necessary in them as in a canonically centralized in-stitute. 5) Designation of a delegated oisitor. The usual norm of con-stitutions of brothers and sisters permits a superior general to appoint -a visitor for a particular matter or an individual house but demands the consent of the general council for the delegation of a visitor for the entire congregation if this visitor is not a member of the general council.3 Some constitutions extend the necessity of ~his consent to any delegated general visitor and to a visitor designated by the supe-rior general for an entire province. The same norm ordinarily regu-lates the nec, essity of the consent of his council in the delegation of a visitor by a provincial superior. 6) Companion of oisitor. The constitutions of brothers and sisters almost universally prescribe that a superior general, provincial, or delegated visitor is to have a religious of perpetual vows as com-panion. 4 The companion can be of great assistance to the visitor by handling the latter's correspondence. He could also be delegated for the visitation of' pl.aces, i.e., the chapel and sacristy, cloister, refectory, kitchen, recreation or common room, library, and the living quarters of the religious. The whole house shofild be visited'. The general or provincial bursai would frequently be an apt companion. He could examine the books and investigate thoroughly the financial and material condition of the house. 7) Purpose of ~isitation. The 'importance that the Church places on the visitation of higher superiors and the seriousness with which canonical authors consider its obligation manifest evidently that the visitation is not to degenerate into a mere ~egal formality. The primary purpose is to learn and correct defects of religious dis-cipline, s "This includes the observance of the vows, "the laves, decrees, and. instructions of the Holy See, the constitutions, legitimate cus-toms, ordinations of the general chapter, and the regulations of higher superiors. Such a purpose implies the encouragement, of the fervent, the prudent correction of delinquents, and the prescribing of apt means to restore, preserve, and increase fait.hful and constant ob-servance. Higher superiors are to ax;oid the energy of the reformer but they-are also to shun the passivity of the quietist. Some people 3. Cf. Normae, nn. 256: 271, 9*. 4. 'Cf. Normae, n. 257. 5. Cf. Wernz-Vidal, III, n. 148. 24 January, 1953 VISITATION hold that the least government is the best government; others incline to the view that the worst government is no government. If a local Ordinary finds a serious situation in any house in his canonical vis-itation, the conclusion is almost infallible that higher superiors have been derelict in their duty. A paternal or maternal government does not exclude in religious superiors,, as it does not in our Holy Motherl the Church, decisive action when this is demanded by the circum-stances. The higher superior is~also to learn the spiritual and tem-poral needs and desires of subjects and to grant these according to the principles of the religious lifel the common good, and prudence. The purpose of the visita,tion is also to investigate the govern-ment of provincial and local superiors and the administration of the temporal property of the house and province. Defects of govern-ment and administration are to be prudently corrected. There is a general need of clarity and emphasis on the fact that the investigation of government is only a secondary purpose of the visitation. Too many religious prepare for an interview with a superior general or provincial with only one principle in mind: what is wrong with the superior and with the officials? The primary norm of the prepara: tion should be: what is wrong with me? Higher superiors should protect the good name and authority of local superiors, they should remember that in a doub~ ~he presumption favors the superior, bu~ they cannot follow the principle that a local superior never errs. Mi, nor, accidental, and occasional mistakes should be overlooked; the local superior also must be given the forbearance due to a son, or daughter of Adam. However, habitual and serious dei:ects that are ob-structive of the spirituality, efficiency, and peace of the community should be studied, and the local superior is to be admonished of them, but with appropriate consideration. It has been remarked that we can often justifiably apply to a superior the principle of what was said of a conspicuous historical character: the scrutiny fastened on him detects many flaws but entitles him to be. judged free of any-thing of which he is not charged. ~ An important purpose of the visitation is that the higher supe-rior acquires a knowledge of the Capabilities and deficiencies of sub, jects. This should be of great assistance in making the annual ap-pointments for both the common and the individual good. 8) Extent ot: the t~isitation. The visitation extends to all houses, persons, places, and things. Both superiors general and provincials should strive to visit the missions at least once during their term of ,JOSEPH F. GALLEN office. The religious on .the missions are those making the greatest sacrifice and they should not be the most neglected. Both in law and in fact it is the presumption that perfect observance is more °difficult in small houses, and yet higher superiors are inclined to make only a cursory visit of a few hours iii~such houses. Canon 511 commands a higher superior to visit all bbuses subject to him. Therefore. a provincial does not visit a house immediately subject to the superior general unless he has been delegated to do so by the" latter. Canon 513, § 1 obliges a visitor ~to interview only the determined religious and the number in a house that he judges necessary for the purpose of the visitation, but¯ the particular law or custom of an institute will almost universally oblige a higher superior to interview all the reli-gious, This is also demanded by paternal government and the pur-pose of knowing the individual religious. As stated in n. 6, the visitation extends to all places in the house. A visitor is to be sensi, tire not o.nly to the irregularities of worldliness, luxury, softness, and sensuality but also to the adequate and et~icient furnishings of the living quarters of the religious. The cell of stark monastic sim-plicity may be suitable neither for sleep nor work. The visitation extends to all'things, for example, the furnishings of the house, the chapel, the sacristy, the proper care of the sick in the infirmary, the clothing, the heating, light,- food, to the books and documents of temporal administration, and to the book of minutes of the council. A fastidiousness, over-interest, and preoccupation with food is evidently alien to the state of perfection, but the food of religious ~hould be simple, substantial, well-cookedl appetizing, and sui~cient. Religious poverty implies privation, not indigestion. Highe{isuperiors should not omit a quite careful visitation of the li-brary and should investigate the number and quality of the' books purchased during the year. It would be interesting to learn what percentage of the budget, if any, is allotted to the purchage of books in some religioushouses. The visitation covers the whole external life of the community. The suitability of the horarium to the work and climate of the community is to be studied. Some institutes, especially of women, appear to follow the l~rinciple that the religious may die but the horarium must go on. In this era of enlightened and pru.dent adaptation the higher superior is to look carefu11~r'into the matter of customs. Some of these are meaningless, antiquated, originate from the self-interest of the few, or serve only to imprison the soul of the religious life in a labyrinth of formality and detail. It - danuar~l, 1953 CANONICAL VISITATION would be unwise to conclude that the need of a~laptation extends only to religious women, not to religious men and priests. 9) Opening of the visitatiqn. A visitation customarily begins with an exhortation to the community by the visitor. "Fhe topic of this exhortation should ordinarily be a virtue or principle distinctive of the religious life, a virtue especially necessary for the particular in-stitute, or a present problem of the religious life or of the institute. 1 O). Precept of the vow of obedience. Some institutes oblige the visito~ at the opening of the visitation to.imi~ose a precept in virtue of the ",;ow of obedience on the members of the community to reveal serious offenses. A few institutes extend the precept to anything else the religious may think necessary for "the good of the community. This precept does not extend to conduct that has been completely re-formed and obliges only with regard to matters that are external, certain in fact, and serious.6 11 ) Prelirninar!/interviews. It would be profitable for the visi-tor to have a preliminary interview on the state of the community alone with the superior, with the entire group of councillors, at which the superior is not present, and for their respective fields with such officials as the bursar, the master of novices, of postulants, of junior professed, and of tertians, with the dean, principal, adminis-trator, or director of the school, hospital, or institution. In these preliminary interviews the visitor should cover such topics as the gen-eral religious discipline of the community, fidelity to spiritual exer-cises, silence, cloister, observance of pove, rty, whether necessities are obtained from the community or externs, whether material necessities are adequately supplied by the community, whether the quan.tity and quality of material things are. observed according to the tradi-tions of the community, the possession of. money by individual reli-gious, excesses or imprudences in contacts with externs, the more common defects of religious discipline, the general level of spirituality and charity in the community, the success in general of the com-munity in its work, obstacles to this success, whether all the activities. of the community are profitable, activities added or dropped, whether the community is overworked, the material and financial state of the house, state of the community in relation to the superior and:~fficials, whether the council is properly consulted, the s~.ate of the external relations of the community with the local O~dinary, the parish clergy, diocesan director of schools, hospitals, or., other institutions, 6. Bastien. n. 302 ~" JOSEPH F. GALLEN ReView for Religioud 'with the chaplain~ the confessors, and with secular authorities and agencies. Inquiry is to be made about the adjustment of the junior professed to the active life, their formation, care, direction, instruc-tion, and education. In a novitiate, an even more diligent inquiry is to be made on these headings about the novices and postulants. 12) Interoiews with indiuidual religious. The following is a suggested outline of topics for the interviews with the individual' re-ligious. It.is b~; no means necessary that all of these be covered with each religious. The visitation will be more helpful if the visitor suc-ceeds in getting the religious to talk spontaneously and if he directly and indirectly suggests topics rather than adheres to a formal ques-tionnaire. The visitor should, make a notation of any important matter. A notation is of great efficacy in mollifying a, tempestuous soul. a) Health. Sufficient rest? recreation? food? any particular ail-ment? it~ nature? care? the opinion of the doctor.?. b) Work. Success? progress? difficulties? sufficient time for preparation? according to the system and traditions of the institute and directions of' tho~e in authority? overwork? direction of extra-curricular activities? relations .with head of school, hospital, institu-tion? the level of moral and Catholic life among the students? the influence of the community and the individual on these? c) Studies. Studies taken during the year or the summer? in what? how profitable and practica.l? what success? What work is the individual inclined to?. thinks he will do his best in? Is there an~" time to advance by private study and reading during the year? , d) Companions. Getting along with them? Making an effprt to do so with all? Any particular difficulty with anyone or any type? Neglecting some and associafing with only a few? Any coldness, antipathy, anger? Divisions, factions, cliques in 'the com-munity? Their cause? Any cause of 'lack of peace, harmony," happi-ness, charity in the community? " e) Religions life. Any difficulty in attendance at common spir-itual exercises or in performing those prescribed? Any dispensatio, ns necessary? Why?'Any obstacle to profi.t from religious exercises? Any .problem in the observance of poverty?~ Any difficulty in securing ma-terial necessities from the communi.ty-? How is obedience going? With the superior? With officials? Sufficient opportunity for confession? Supply of spiritual books adequate? Does work, community duties, domestic duties interfere with the interior life? Sufficient opportunity 28 danuar~l, 1953 CANONICAL VISITATION to deepen and intensify the dedication to the interior life? Days of recollection, tridua, retrea~s profitable? f) Superiors and officials. Any external obstaCle to a spirit of faith towards superiors and officials? Any misunderstanding? Any hesitancy or diffidence in approaching them? g) Anything else? Any suggestions? complaints? difficulties? permissions? Everything he needs spiritually and temporally? Any-thing, else he wishes:to say? 13) Some principles for the individual interviews. The visitor , must cultivate the dexterity of giving each subject sufficient but not excessive time. The ability to end an interview promptly bui gra-ciously is an enviable gift for the life of a superior. All of us have to beware of the natural tendency to find greater truth in the story first ¯ told or greater force in the argument first presented. Fairness, judg-ment, patience, and prudence are necessary for any visitor who ~ishes .to be objective and to learn the objective truth. The fact that the subject is a friend, the possession of an attractive personality or man-ner, or a facile and orderly presentation is not an infallible criterion of truth. Our enemies and the unattractive and inarticulate are not always wrong.' The passing of the poetry of life teaches' us that man, and woman also, .too often knows only what.he desires to know, too often sees only what his inclinations want, and all too frequently finds in the objective oi~der what exists only in the desires or rebellion of his own heart. The visitor is,to ascertain the individual state of each subject. He is not to conclude too readily that a problem is. exactly the same as something in his own past life or that it possesses no distinctive note. The constant pronominal subject of the visitor's thought'should be ¯ you, nbt I. We rarely solve another's problem by the history of our own lives. The subject.should be made to feel that there is a sincere interest in him, An,interruption, exclamation of surprise, or calm remonstrance should be used to restrain any flow of words that is outracing the mind. Reluctant and forced replies, especially with re- ~gard to oneself, are very frequently suspect,in their objectivity. This is the suitable and expected time for the higher superior to administer necessary correction to individuals. The visitor should first make certain of the facts, hear all sides patiently, and correct calmly. A higher superior who never corrects should not be too quick to thank God for the fervor of his institute. The omission of correction is sometimes prudence. Sometimes it is sloth, or lack of courage, or 29 JOSEPH F.,GALLEN Reo~eto for, Rehgtous, human respect. Many a higher superior has prolonged his sleepless ~ nights by exclaiming: "Oh, if the,generals or provincials had onIy~ done something about him (or her) years ago! Now it is impossible to do anything." But now also is the time for him to do for futu're higher, superiors what he would have had done for himself: 14) The field of conscience and of religious government.~ The" forum or fieId of conscience consists strictIy of actions that are in- 'terior, or external but not readily knowable by others, provided eil~her is the type of action that one V~uld not care to reveal to an-other except under a-pledge of secrecy. The field of conscience thus consists of all completely interior acts, such as .graces: lights: good desires, inclinations, "attractions, affections, and motives; interior progress; consolation; desolation; desire of progress; conquest of self; acts and habits of virtue; interior acts of prayer; imperfect and evil attractions, propensities, aversions, and motives; interior trials ¯ and dangers; imperfections, sins, and habits of sin; and lack of in-terior effort in prayer and spiritual duties. All external actions not readily knowable by others are also restricted to the forum of con~ science. Such interior matte'rs as the ,knowledgeof. how to pray, to make the examen of conscience, the difficulty or ease in usin'g par-ticular methods of prayer or examen, the attraction or repulsion for particular types of spirituality, people, or occupations are not strictly matters of conscience, since one would not hesitate to speak of these to a friend .without a pledge of secrecy? Unless the Institute is Clerical and has the privilege of imposing the obligation of a manifestation.of conscience~ the visitor is forbid-den to inquire about any matters that appertain strictly to the forum , of conscience. If such interrogations are made, thesubject riaa.y lic-itly reply by a mental reservation. However, a subject is not forbid-den to reveal any of these matters voiuntarily to a visitor, even if the latter is a brother, ntin, or sister. All religious ale even counselled by canon 530, §'2 to manifest their consciences to superiors. If the superior is not a priestl this counsel does not extend to sin, tempta-tion, and any other matter that demands the knowledge and trair~ing of a priest. The. subject is not forbidden to reveal these n~atters also ~ to a visitor or any superior who is a brother, nun, or sister. The field of religious government consists of all external and 7. Bastien, n. 212, 3; Beste, p. 350: Creusen-Ellis, n. 128; Jone, 444; Schaefer, n. 684; Verrneersch-Creusen, I, n. 650. 3O danuar~,1953 CANONICAL VISITATION readily kriowabl~'conduct of a religious. Superiors may legitimately question a subject about such personal conduct, and the subject is obliged to answer truthfully,s Religious may therefore be questioned by the visitor or any superior on such matters as rising on time, ex-ternal performance of spiritual duties, prompt attendance fit common 'exercises, observance of silence, external charity, neglect of study, external neglect of the duties of one's offic.e, whether one went out of the house without permission, or without a companion, mailed .l~t-ters without permission, etc. 15) Denunciation of the conduct of a companion. Denunciation is the technical term that signifies the revealing of the conduct of a comp.anion to a superior." Religious do not and should not revealthe petty and purely personal defects of companions. This alone is to be classified as talebearing. Religious may certainly reveal the faults and defects of others that are of no serious malice but are disturbing, interfere with. one's own work, peace, or happiness, or with those of some others, or of the.entire.community. A religious is not obliged to lose a great deal of sleep or suffer headaches because a companion nearby tyl6es most of.the night and whis~tles most of the day. ,The door slammers, radio addicts, midnight bathers, corridor and cubicu- .lar orators and vodalists, and the nocturnal religious who flower into the life of work and talk only at night fall under this principle. A visitor or any superior may inquire and subjects are obliged to ankwer truthfully about an offense in external r~hdily khowable con-duct of ~/companion: a) if the religious by the particular law of their institute have re-nounced the righ't to their reputations to the extent that any sin or defect may be immediately denounced to the superior.9 Such a re-nuncxation is practically never found in the law of lay institutes. .b) if there exists a rumor or founded suspicion of the commission of the offense by the particular religious.I° c) if a truthful answer is necessary to avoid the danger of serious harm to the institute, the province, the house, an innocent third 8. Berutti. 109: Beste, pp. 336: 350: Creusen-Ellis, nn. 89, 2: 128: Geser. q. 510: Jombart. I. n. 839. 3°: Van Acken. q. 164; Vromant. n. 402. 9. Cf. Summary of the Constitutions of the Society of Jesus. nn. 9-10: Com-mon Rules, n. 18. 10. Augustine. VIIi,: ,~19-520: Coronata I, n. 540: Fanfani. n. 72: Geser. q. 377; Pruemmer. q. 110: Sipos. 339. 31" ¯ JOSEPH F. GALLEN~. Revie~o fdr Religious party, or the.delinquent himself,n This reason alone permits the revelation of the matter of an entrusted secret of counsel or official secret. 12 A religious maq reveal the offense of a companion spontaneously or in answer to the question of the visitor, since in the religious life the offense of another may always,, practically speaking, be immedi-ately denounced fo a superior without the necessity of a .previous fra-ternal- correction.13 Conduct that has been completely corrected is not to be revealed, and it is evident that a ~ubject has no right to in-ves'tigate the conduct of his companions.Subjects should be prayer-fully attentive/to the case listed above under c). In practice such a matter should be~revealed.to the superior as soon as possible. Reli-gious are apt to excuse themselves from such a revelation lest even "their own conscience accuse them of talebe.aring. Later they may painfully and shamefully hear their consciences condemn them as the cause of a human disaster and of the suffering of many or all of their fellow-keligious. Whenever the name of a companion oCcurs in a conversation with a superior, conscience should immediately signal the red warning of truth. The facts and their source should first be studied, not in the imaginative and exciting glow of the evening, but in the cold and gray stillness of the early morning. Any denunciation to a superior should also be preceded by a searching examination of conscience on one's purity of motive. An impure motive stains the soul and als9 discolors fZct. Superiors should remember that the voice, the.face, and even the bristling hair of the criticism of others often bear a.striking resemblance to those of defense of self. 16) The visitor rna~t use u2hat he has learned in the visitation. The purpose of the visitation is not mere spiritual direction but gov-ernment and evideritly gives the visitor the right of using what he has learned in the Visitation. The visitor may therefore do such things as instruct, reprehend, correct, change the employment, office, or house of a religious, or place him under the vigilance of a local supe-rior because of what he has learned in the visitation. ~ In the use of information on an~" matter that is not commohly known~in tlie 11. Abbo-Hannan, I, 523; Augustine, III, 139-40; Bastien, n. 236; Beste, p. 336; Cocchi, VIII, n. 302 b) ; Creusen-Ellis, n. 89, 2; De Carlo, n. 95; Fanfahi, n. 72; Gerster, 264; Geser, q. 377; Pruernmer~ q. 110; Sipos, 339; Vroraant, n. 402 ¢). 12. Vromant0 n. 402. '~ 13. Coemans, n. 231; Fine, 1067; Regatillo, I, n. 658; Wernz-Vidal~ III, n. 149. 32 danuary, 1953 CANONICAL VISITATION community the visitor is to be careful to protect the reputation of the subject. He is forbidden to use, outside of the interview itself, any-thing learned in a voluntar~l manifestation of conscience without the express consent of the subject. 17) Revelation of things learnedin "the visitation. To reveal is . to tell others. In general, the visitor is forbidden to .reveal secret matters learned in the visitation. This obligation of secrecy clearly does not extend to matters that are commonly known in the. com-munity, but a prudent superior avoids indiscriminate conversation on anything that even appears to have been learned in virtue of his office. Some superiors could foster a greater intimacy with secrets. The visitor is to keep secret the identity of the one who gave the in-formation, but the importance of the matter to be corrected Can in some cases prevail over this obligation. Evidently the superior should not apologize for his duty of correction by even obscurely and guardedly hinting the name of' the one who gave the information, This would be to imitate the soldier who had enlisteti for the music of the bands but not for,the whine of the bullets. .Neither should the superior strive to make it appear that the sole reason for the c0r. rection is that the matter was reported to him. The mere mention of this fact often destroys any effcacy that the correction might have had. The visitor may reveal secret matters learned in the visitation, to a higher superior or to his councillors if this is jhdged necessary for a more permanent and efficacious correction. It is always forbidden to reveal anything learned ~in a manifestation of conscience without " the express consent of the subject.14 18) Closing of the visitation. The visitor frequently gives an exhortation also at the close,of the visitation on a topic of the same nature as that used to open the visitation. 19) Instructions and regulations. The visitation will be par-tially ineffective unless means are taken to further the good that the community is doing, to bring it to dffect the good that is being left undone, and to correct abuses. The visitor should write out instruc-tions on these points. It will usually be sufficient to reaffirm existifig obligations without enacting new regulations foi the community, New laws are to be regarded at mo~t asa se'asonal delicacy, not as our daily bread. The visitor should retain a copy. of the instructions. According to the custom of the institute, these instructions may be 14. Cf. Coemans, n. 501 b): Voltas. CpR. I. 85, nota 6; Wernz-Vidal, III, n. 210, nota 57. ~ 33 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reoieto t:oc Religious the topic.of the closing talk of the visitor, be.given only to the supe-rior, who is always charged with their enforcement, or at least part of them may be read to the community, preferably .after the visitor has left. The initructions should begin with something sincerely complimentary, which can always, be found. The defects listed should be frequent and quite common violations of religious disci-pline. Other defects are to be taken care of by individual correction. The visitor is also to strive in the instructions to further positively the spiritual life and the work of the house or province and is to avoid concentration on the negative aspect of the correction of defects. 20 Pertinent canons on visitation. Canon 51 I. Higher superior~ of religious institutes who are obliged to visitation by the constitutions must visit personally or, if they are legitimately impeded, through a delegate, all the houses subject to them at the times determined in the constitutions. Canon 513, §' 1. The visitor has the right and the duty oi: ques-tioning the religious that be thinks should be questioned and of ob-taining information on matters that appertain to the visitation. All the religious are obliged to reply truthfully to the visitor, Superiors are forbidden to divert them'in any manner whatever from this obli-gation or otherwise to binder the purpose of the visitation. Canon 2413, § I. Superioresses who after the announcement of a visitation have transferred religibus to another" house without the consent of the visitor; likewise all religious, whether superioresses or sub jerrY, who personally or through others, directly~,or indirectly, have induced religious not to reply or to dissimulate in any way or not sincerely to expose the truth when questioned by the visitor, or who under any pretext whatever have molested, others because of an-swers given to the visitor shall be declared incapable by the visitor of holding any office that involves the government of other religious and, if superioresses, they shall be deprived of their otffce. § 2. The prescriptions of the preceding" paragraph are to be ap-plied also to religious institutes of men. Canons 513, § 1 and 24.13 apply to the canonical visitation also of the local Ordinary or his delegate. The hindering of the purpose of the visitation prohibited by canon 513, § 1 can be effected in many ways, for example, by concealing objects or falsifying records or documents. The great importance that the Church places on the canonical danuarq, 1953 CANONICAL VISITATION visitation is manifest in all these canonsbut especially in the penal canon, 2413. The permanent or temporary transfer forbidden to any superior is one whose purpqse is to separate a religious from the visitor and thus to prevent the revelatibn or interrogation of the reli-gious. This purpose is presumed if made after the announcement of the visitation and without the consent of the visitor. The interference with' iegitimate interrogation' prohibited to all religious includes that done pe.rsonally or through anyone else, whether directly, by inducing or commanding others expressly to conceal the truth, or indirectly, by praise, promises, special attention or .treatment intended for the same purpose but. without expressly mentioning this purpose. To be' punishable the interference must cause the religious actually to be silent, to dissimulate, or to be insin-cere when questioned by the visitor. . The forbidden molestation can be accomp!ished in various ways, for example, by transferring a religious, changing his employment, by punishment, public or private reprehension, or by other signs of displea.sure because of replies given to the visitor. Recourse against false replies is to be made to th~ visitor or a highei superior. The offices referred to in the penalty as involving the ,government of others are, for example, general, provincial, or local sup~erior, mas-ter of novices, of junior professed, of tertians, of postulants, probably_ also deans, principals, administrators, and directors of schools, hos-pitals, or other institutions. Such a punishment demands;a serious violation of the law. The natural tendency is to conclude that this penalty, enacted by canon law, is a canonical penally and that it can be inflicted only by one possessing jurisdiction in the external forum.Is However, Larraona gives the at least probable and safe opinion that this penalty is not strictly canonical and that it may be . inflicted also by" visitors who possess only dominative power in clerical non-exempt and lay institutes and thus also by visito)s who are brothers, nuns, or sisters with regard to those subject to them either habitually or by reason of the Visitation.16,x7 15. Cf. ~'anon-2220, § 1; Augustine, VIII, 521 and note 9. 16. :L~rraona, CpR, X, 369, note 4; 370 and notes.7, 8; Bowe, 64-65: Jombart, IV, n. 1323; Reilly, 169-170. Cf. the same opinion in the interpretation of canon 2411 in: Brys, II, n. 1091: Cloran, 313: Cocchi, VIII, n. 298 d). 17. The authors and documents cited are: Abbo-Hannan, The Sacred Canons; Augustine, A Comme.marg. on Canon Law; Bastien, Directoire Canonique; Berutti, De Religiosis; Beste, lntroductio in Codicem; Bowe," Religious Supe-rioresses; Brys, Juris Canonici Compendium; Cloran, Previews and Practical 35 BOOK NOTICES BOOK NOTICES In LENGTHENED SHADOWS, Sister Mary Ildephonse Holland, R.S.M., records in considerable detail the hundred-year history of the Sisters of Mercy of Cedar Rapids, Iowa. In a style that in all reverence might be called "chatty," the author, a former mother-superior, tells (1) of the founding of the'Sisters of Mercy by Mother McAuley, .(2) of the motherhouse, (3) of the twenty-eight other houses, (4) -of some senior Sisters. The book has an unusually large section of glossy prints and useful appendices,, includin~ one of chronology and lists of the living and the dead. In his foreword, the Archbishop of Dubuque, His Excellency Henry P. Rohlman, speaks of the fivefold purpose of the book. It should be of interest to the Sisters of Mercy, to Other Sisters, to pastors, to the laity, and a challenge to many young women. It certainly should. (New York: Bookman Associates~ 42 Broadway. Pp. 337. $4.50.) Some years ago Sister Mary Berenice Beck, O.S.F., R.N., ~ub-lished a little book entitled The Nurse: Handmaid of the Dfofne Ph~.tsician. The object of the book was to cbver all the various as-pects of the spiritual care of patients, as well as to offer the nurse some practical helps for her own spiritual life. That first edition was good. But the revised edition, entitled simply HANDMAID OF THE DIVINE PHYSICIAN, is s.uperior to it in every way. Content, arrange-ment, printing, and binding--all are excellent. (Milwaukee: The Bruce Publishing Company, 1952: Pp. xviii + 31~I.: $3.00.) ' Cases; Cocchi, Commentarium in Codicem ~luris Canonici: Coemans, Com-mentarium in Regulas Socletatis lesu; Coronata, [nstitutiones Juris Canonid; Creusen-Ellis, Religious Men and Women in the Code; De Carlo, dus osorum; Fanfani, De lure Reliqiosorum; Fine, lus Regulate Quo Regitur So-cletas lesu; Gerster a Zeil, lus Religioso~um; Geser. Canon Lau~ concerning ,Communities o[ Sisters; Jombart. Trait3 de Droit CanOnique: Jone, Com-mentarium in Codicem luris Canonici; Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religi-osis; Normae Secundum Quas S. Congr. Episcoporum et Regularium iOrocedere Solet in Approbandis Novis lnstitutis ,Votorum Simplicium. 28 iun. 1901: Piatus Montensis, Praelectiones duris Regularis. ed. 2; Pruemmer, dus Re,u-latium Speciale; Regatillo, Institutiones luris Canonici; Reilly. Visitation ~Religious; Schaefer, De Retigiosis; Sipos, Enchiridion luris Canoni6: Sum-marg of the Constitutions of the Societg of Jesus: Van Acken. A Handbook for Sisters; Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome [uris Canonici: Voltas, Commen-tarium. Pro Religiosis; Vromant, De Personis; Wernz-Vidal, Ius Canonicum, HI, De Religiosis. 36 The ,reat:es!: Moment: in !:he Hospit:al Day Thomas Sullivan, C.S.V. SEVEN A.M. is the dawn of another busy day in the hospital. A hustling corps of hospital personnel stream into the hospital entrances, crowd the elevators, and soon swing into action¯. A burst of activity greets the quiet hallways. Ni~rses hurry to the chart desks~ to relieve their weary sisters; laboratory technicians fan out to. all parts of the hospital; nurses' aids begin their chore.s; tray girls and surgery personnel are on the move. At this time of greatest activity, there;is in our Catholic hospitals a momentary pause. The sound'of the silver bell is heard and all stop in reverent prayer. A patient or stranger who hears it for the first time will naturally ask, with the blind man of the Gosp~l who heard a crowd passing on the road to Jericho, "What might this be?" , He will be rightfully told, as the blind man was, "Jesus of Nazareth is passing by." He has but to view the respect and courtesy of every-one to know a great Visitor is passing by. Truly this is the greatest moment of the day. Each of our hospitals is greeted by the Eternal Word: "Today salvation has come to this house." More especially for the Catholic patient who receives is this the greatest moment. We all have need of the food of eternal life, but for the sick this need is acute. And' therefore the 'invitation of the Lord is more pressing. His sacred banquet is especially prepared for them, for He says, "Go out quickly into the streets and lanes of the city and bring in the poor, and the crippled, and the blind, and the lame.'" "Come to me,," 3esus says, "all you who labor and are bur-dened, and I will give you rest." Most frequently our patients need to be reminded of the Lo~d's invitation. They should desire to receive every day while at the hos-pital. To arouse this desire, it is not sufficient that they be conscious in an. abstract way of the Catholic ,doctrine of the Holy.Eucharist, that Christ is present, Body, Blood, Soul and Divinity. They must have the truth of faith alive and.real, and be convinced in a practicai way that here is the Food of the Soul, that this is the Bread come down from heaven. And this on the authority of the Great Physi-cian who prescribes: "He who eats .my flesh and drinks my blood 37 THOMAS SULLIVAN abides in me and I in him." In the first place the devoted nurses and chaplains should arouse in themselves a zeal for better disposed communicants among their patients. Let them meditate upon the marvelous effects of this Sacr,a-menl~ whose effect is in part conditioned by the dispositions of the recipient. Scripture and spiritual books provide ~ wealth of material., ~ The bread the angel fed the prophet .Elias prefigures the effects of the Eucharist. Most patients find themselves in a predicament simi-lar to tha~ of the p~ophet of the Old Testamen't, who was worn out with trials, tortured by his enemies, wandering weak and sick through the.wilderness. In desperation Elias prayed, "Lord, it is enough for me, take away my soul." He fell asleep under the shadow of a juniper tree, and an angel awoke him, s~ying, "Arise an'd eat.'" He ate and drank and fell asleep again. The angel of the.Lord came to him a second time, "Arise, eat, for thou bast yet a great way to go." Elias .arose and ate, and the Scripture states, "He walked in the stre.ngth of that food forty days and forty nights, unto the mount of God, Horeb." (Kings 19:1-8.) What a fitting parallel to the "living bread that has come down ¯ from heaven," and how like Elias is the person in sickness! In his misery and anxiety' be may be moved t'o exclaim with the prophet, "Lord, it is enough for me, take away my soul. The angel of the sick, the nurse., is at hand to arouse him, "Partake of the bread of life." In this bread he will have strength to continue his journey to the mount of God; to heaven, for-be will have "life everlasting~ and I will raise him upon 'the last day~" ViatIinc ugmiv iinn gd athneg efra iotfh fduela tthh,e tphree C.cheuprtc ohb tleiagcinhges t htheem i mtop roerctaenivcee. tohfe having Christ with us on the journEyfrom this earth. "This Sacra~ ment is called the'Viaticum by sacred writers, both because it is the spiritual food by which we are sustained in our pilgrimage ,through this life, and also because it paves our way to eternal glory and hap-piness" (Catechism of 'the Council of Trent, McHugh and Callan, p:215). Next ~ve are reminded of the health-giving properties of the Eu-charist, since it is called an eternal ~emedy of body and soul. ~If the woman suffering twelve years from h.emorrhage was restored to health merely by touching the tassel of our Lord's cloak, '~hat is the blessed effect upon the pbrson who takes Christ's body upon his tongue and receives Him into his heart? For "this is the Bread that .,38 , danuarg, 1953 COMMUNION IN HOSPITALS comes down from heaven, so that if anyone eat of it he will not die." In the prayer beforehis Communion the priest :s.ays, "By Thy mercy, may the partaking of Thy Body, O Lord'3estis Christ, be profitable to the safety and health both of soul and body." After Communion he prays, "What we have taken with our mouth, O Lord, may we re-ceive with a pure heart; and 6f a temporal gift may it become to us an everlasting healing." (Roman Missal.) And recall the prayer of the priest as he gives Communion to the faithful, "May the Body of Our Lord 3esus Christ preserve thy soullunto life everlasting." In the OffiCe of Corpus Christi we read in the second noc.turn., "of all, the Sacraments none is more health-giying, for by it sins are washed away, virtues are'increased, and the soul is fedwith an abundance of all spiritual gifts." In comparison with this health-giving food all the scientific medications and treatments available in the ~nodern hospital pale into significance. The so-called "miracle drugs" are at the best but temporary helps to better ,health. The Eucharist 'is the only real, permanent, miraculous medicine. Other medicines and treatments merely postpone the inevitable death; this keeps the soul for life ever-lasting. The great philosopher, St. Augustine, describes tile riches of this Gift of God, in these words: "God, all-wise though He be, knows nothing better; all-powerful though He be, can do nothing more excellent; infinitely rich though He be, has nothing more pre-ciou~ to give, than the Eucharist." Now, how may these truths enter into the thinking of the patient and dispose him to receive Holy Communion? This will haveto be achieved through the usual routine procedures. Neces'sarily there must be rputine, otherwiseduring the busy evening and the more busy, Morning there wo.uld be nothing done. But judgment and intelli-gence, faith and zeal, will put, Christian value in what otherwise is merely mechanical. For instance, the simple detail of drawing up the Communion list, can be done with a faith and enthusiasm that will make the patient realize the 'Lord's invitation. This can be done without catechizing or giving a discourse on the Sacrament. Tl~e initial step is most important because it involves the decision of the patient; it is the mofft delicate because people so easily miscon-strue our interest and concern ~ibout their religious'practice. The more ¯ objective and impers0n~il the nurseis in explaining the opportunity for Holy Communion the less chance there is to draw resentment from the sensitive who feel that ",it is none of your business." In 39 THOMAS SULLIVAN Reoiew for Religious giving expression to the Lord's invitation, the nurse, like St. Paul, must be all things ,to all people. This simple routine is the first step in what might be called the remote preparation of the patient for Holy Communion. The next might be notifying the chaplain, should the patient want to go to -confession. Especially in the case of a patient who is to have surgery~ the next morning is this very necessary. If the patient is not in a. private room, the nurse should arrange for con'fession in a place where there can be privacy; and, too, she should advise the ch~plai'n of the best time to come so as to avoid the rush of surgery proce-dures. The chaplain will want to take greater pai.ns with his patient~ penitents, and it will be his absolution in the Sacrament :of Penance that will make ready the "large upper room furnished." The Master says, "Make ready the guest chamber for.Me'." Do we need another reminder? Then, reflect on the care and pains of the hospital procedures before surgery.' The success of surgery depends much on the proper preparation of the patient and his physical and mental condition. For this it is necessary that the patient be in the hospital the night before, that all tests and precautions,be taken. There is a striking parallel in the reception of Holy Communion, counseling us to exercise some care to make ready the patient-com-municants. A contrary parallel follows. Surgery at the hands of even the most skilled surgeon is a great risk to the life of a person in poor physical condition. So likewise this most health-giving Food can mean eternal death to the one. not proper!y disposed. Remem-ber the severe words Of the Lord to the guests who had not on the ,wedding garment. Think; too, of what St. Paul says of those who eat and drink condemnation to themselves. Ther~ is an immediate preparation for Holy Communion that is also very important. At an early hour of the morning the nurse will awaken the patient; and, while she is tidying up the room, seeing that things are clean and in order, and a fresh sheet on the bed, she. has the opportunity to explain the reason, the coming of a great Visi-tor. All. must be clean and neat, especially the soul of the recipient. If 'the patient has a prayer-book and rosary, place them conveniently at his reach. Many hospita.ls hav.e a special card with prayers before-and after Communion. If the patient is unusually drowsy, as is the case so often with those who have taken sedatives, the night nurse should see that the patient is again aroused shortly before the priest comes. The priest 40 danuarv, 1953 will often hesitate, except in the~case of Viaticum, abofitgiving Holy Communion to a person who is too sleepy to keep awake. It goes without saying that the patient should not be ~listurbed for some ten minutes to allow for s, uitable thanksgiving. Tests and trays and shots can be delayed a few minutes; these moments after Holy Communion belong to God. The patient should be alone with His Gbd. , Language cannot express adequatery the great benefits of Hol.y Communion and the hospital cannot do too much to help the patient profit by each Communion. But even the most zealous efforts in establishing p~oper hospital procedure to assure worthy recipients of the Sacrament are not sufficient. Human efforts are necessary, but it "is God's grace that is more so. Our Blessed Lord in His famous dis-course on the Eucharist in St. ~ohn's Gospel reminds us, "No one can come to me unldss he is enabl.ed to do so ~by the Father." This is why we must invoke the angels and the saints t0 assist our weak human efforts to help patient-communicants be better dis- ~posed. St. John the Baptist could well be selected as the patron for worthy reception of Communion, since it was his vocation to "make ready the way of the Lord." Such is the mind of the Church in the Liturgy, as in the Confiteor we pray, "the Blessed Mary ever Virgin, the blessed John the Baptist, the holy Apostles Peter and Paul, and all the saints, to pray to the Lord our God for me." The priest fore distributing Communion begs God to send His angel down from" heaven "to guard, cherisl~, protect, visit,, and defend all that,assemble in this dwelling." MEDICO.MORAL PROBLEMS Part IV of the series of booklets entitled "Medico-Moral Problems, by Gerald Kelly, S.J., contains the article, "The Fast Before Communion," formerly pub-lished in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS,. March, 1'945. Other topics treated in the book-let concern the consent of the patient, the need of having and 'following consulta-tion, the relationship of doctor~ and department supervisors, induction "of labor, unnecessary surgery, the papal teaching on rhythm, and so forth. The booklet also contains a critical list of recommended readings for doctors. Taken together, the four b~oklets cover most of the practical ethical and reli-gious problems that confront doctors and hospital personnel. For the most part, the articles are commentaries on various sections of the Catholic hospital code, Ethical and Religious Directives for Catholic Hospitals. Price of the code, 25 cents: of 'each part o~ Medico-Moral Problems, 50 cents: of the complete set of five booklets, $2.00. Reductions on quantity orders. Order from: The Catholic Hospital As-sociation, !438 So. Grand Blvd., St. Louis 4, Mo. 41 Congress in Rome THE first International Congress of Mothers General was held in I. Rome September 11 to 13, 1952. The address" of the Holy Father to the delegates in a special audience on Sdptember 15 was printed inthe November number of the Reoiew (pp. 305-308). The present incomplete report on the congress itself is based on notes sent us by some of the delegates and on the newspaper accounts of the event from-L'Osseroatore Romano (September 11, 12, and, 14, 1952). Perhaps other delegates can supplement this material by sending communications with their own impressions. The congres.s of mothers general of pbntifical institutes was con-vened by the Sacred Congregation of Religious to discuss and co-ordinate more efficiently the religious and technical training of mem-bers of the apostolate. The papers prepared for the congress described the conditions and needs at the present time, gave helpful suggestions, and put forward the idea of establishing at Rome a pontifical, uni-versity for religious women and a commission of mothers:general to facilitate communication and liaison betw.een ecclesiastical superiors and individual institutes. The latter, it was said emphatically, is not to be a kind of "super-government.". The superiors general and tl~ose who represented and accompan-ied them came in Such large numbers that the, meetings v~ere trans-ferred from the assembly room of the Sacred Congregation of Reli-gious to that of the Gregorian L'lniv~rsity. after the first morning. An eye witness writes of the first afternoon session: "I counted the num-ber of Sisters in the Gregorian assembly room, since I didn't u~nder-stand the .Italian. My count was 800." Of these, 200 were dele-gates representing 800 religious institutes for women. Countries represented inelude~i Italy, Australia. India, France, Germany, Eng-land. Spain; Canada, and the 'United States. The opening address was given by the Most Rev. Arcadio Lar-raona, C.M.F., the secretary Of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. He pointed out that the purpose of the meeting was not "reform-- for which, thank God, there was no need but improveme'nt, by bringing up to d~te the ideals 6f the founders and foundresses with a willing, intelligent adaptation of means to the end. "We. r~ust do today what our founders would do if they were alive." The next speaker, the Rev. Riccardo Lombardi, S.J., stressed the grave~ resp6nsibility of superiors general to make the best use of their 42 CONGRESS IN ROME subjects' talents. To waste them or leave them unused is a fault just hs much as wasting one's own talents through carelessness or sloth. Natural capabilities and qualities of heart, and mind, which would have given a Sister considerable influence in the world had she not entered religion are to be cultivated by good training. The general subject introduced by Father Lombardi, the training for the apostolate, was next developed in four talks which indicated specific modifications for different parts of the world. The Rev. A. PlY. O.P. "the editor of La Vie Spirituelle. reportedon the training of religious in France. The representative for Spanish-speaking peo-ples. Father Leghisa. C.M.F., made a special plea for a better local distribution of various apostolic efforts. Mother Bernarda Peeren-boom. 0.S.U.' spoke for Germany, and Mother Magdalen Bellasis. O.S.U. for English-speaking countries. 'Mother Magdalen pointed out that some prevailing conditions in English-speaking countries .would call for greater emphasis on cer-tain aspects of training. Greater temporal prosperity (not i~ Eng-land since the war) underlines the need to stress poverty of spirit: "They must learn to want to be poor, to prefer to have less rather than more." The spirit of self government and the earlier emanci-pation of women reqmres more stress on-and explanation of the principles of religious obedience. The fact that Catholics are a mi-nority is a spur to.zeal, but it demands of faith. "There is a certain danger selves in a small minority, will suffer which, prevents energetic action. They that they have something splendid to solid instruction in the truths that.Catholics, feding them-from an inferiority compl~x must be given the conviction offer to the world and that their religion is something to be proud of." Monsignor Giovanni Battista Scapinelli,.under-secretary of the Shcred Congregation of Religious, gave a long, documented account of the co-operative efforts and .the movements toward federation in various countries and then proposed the formation of a central" and international co-ordination of forces. 'As an example of a co-operative effort, he proposed the foundation in each country of a hos-pital reserved for sickSisters. (It seems that in some countries Sis-ters- have to be cared for in pfiblic.hospitals.) The study of u'nit~- was continued in the three talks the fol-lowing morning. D6n Secur~do de Bernardis, S.D.B. ~poke of the need of gr.eater mutual knowledge and complementary co-operation among the different institutes. Then Mother M. Vianney, O.S.U., read a pap,r on the advantages of having a permanent Commission 43 CONGRESS IN ROME Review for Religious of Superiors General a[ Rome. The third speaker, Monsignor Luigi Pepe. the General Secretary of the Congress, spoke of the need of higher studies in religion. He urged provision for such studies in each country and proposed a financial plan for founding a faculty of religious studies at Rome for nuns and women' engaged in apostolic work.~ An auditor 'called the afternoon talk by the Rev. l~mile Bergh, S.3., "a soul-stirring conference." The heart of this talk was a,n examination of conscience for the past twenty-five years. This examination is given in the present number on page 14. He also gave some suggestions for the future. For instance, he mentioned that real days of recollection and retreat be organized that would provide a rest for the body too so that the soul might be ableto profit more from these exercises. After this, Father Larraona gave some practical directions of the Holy See for apostolic work in the field of education, re-education, care of the sick, and social wbrk. On Saturday morning he met with the superiors general while the other religious held group discussion in their own language groups. The congress was then closed with a brief address by His Eminence Cardinal Pizzardo, the secretary of the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Studies. , Observations . , The foregoing is a running, factual account of the congress as we. have been able to piece it together from our sources. To this we might. add a few of the more personal observations made by some Ameri-cans who attended the congress. ¯ Several have noted that there seemed to be very little realization in Italy of what we already have in this country. For example, we already have a splendid system of Catholic schools providing higher st.udies for women, not excluding religious. Also, many of our hos-pitals provide special care'for Sisters. As was noted in the Holy Father's address, previously published in the Review, he recommended modifications in the religious habit when this is necessary for hygiene or the better accomplishment of the work of the institute. We have not yet' obtained a copy of Father Larraona's address, but we have heard that when he mentioned this question of modifying the habit, he said that permission would readily be granted if the iequest was sponsored by amajority of the members of. an institute, and if the change could be made without ,]anuarg, 1953 CONGRESS IN ROME loss of harmony. The main thing, he said, is to keep peace in the family. (Not his exact words, but a good English equivalent.) And this reminds us bf another observation made by an Ameri-can delegate. "Looking at the habits that garb som~ of these dear, good religious,, we can't wonder that the Father of us all would like to see us clad in less grotesque and more unostentatious dress! Ours is surely the simplest here.'" Then she added: "'But it may be that everyone else, thinks tbe~same of hers!" (We have supplied the italics.) We c~onclude with another observation from an American mother ger~eral: "It was a grand and glorious assembly, and since we were there in obedience to the wish of our Holy Father, our being in Rome was grand and glorious too. However, the language q(~estion was a great drawback. We realized that it was international, but we felt that we lost too much since we, so many of us, had no knowl-edge of Italian. We were generally given a resum~ of the talk in the various languages, but that wasn't too satisfactory." SUMMARY OF THE CONGRESS ~ The superiors general, reunited in Rome, 'in response to the de-sires and directives of the Holy See, consider it opportune to sum-marize the work and conclusions Of the Congress as follows: The superiors general with their council will ~ollaborate in the holy movement of revitalizing the religious spirit, conforming to the needs of the Church and of the world in this historic moment. This revitalizing of the religious spirit must be basedon the spirit of our founders and fo~ndresses and of their outstanding disciples, while adapting itself to present needs and utilizing the immense resources at band in order to reach hearts and minds with the same broad vision and courage which the holy founders and foundresses would have bad today; Points for the Ascetical Life 1. Particular care must be taken to develop the personality of each religious in the exercise of Christian virtue and in the generous. dedication to religious virtue. 2. Maternal care must be taken of the health of the' religious; the work of each must be 'orderly and moderate; each religious must have time for her exercises of piety. 3. The schedules must always be reasonable and adapted to the various regions and apostolic ministries today confided to religious; 45 ¯ CONGRESS iN ROME Review for Religious 4. Care must be taken of the sick with promptness and exquisite charity. , Superiors must co-oper~lte in the organization of hospitals and s~anatoriums for religious. 5. In their individual houses, the superiors general will make it possible for al~ religious to lead a Christian life, by giving ample bp-portu. nity to receive the sacraments, and to carry out the duties im-posed on them by their consecration to God, by providing time for days of retreat, Spiritual exercises, and devotional practices common to the individual institute. Points regarding Government , I. It must. be remembered that we have need of superiors arid of teachers W.ho are well~balanced, nobl~-minded, refined holy souls or those strongly resolved to become so. They m!~st be ,well pre-pared for their sacred mission and, forgetful of themselves, give gen- ¯ erousI~ to their offide, striving to evaluate justly the natural and supernatural gifts of their subjects. 2. S.ubjects gifted With prudence and foresight should be chosen for superiors and for such offices as mistress ~)f novices and postu-lants. Young religious should not be excluded from higher office if they have the necessary natural and spiritual qualifications. Care must be taken not to ask more than canon law exacts nor should we be obstinate in the question of re-election. It is the mind of the Church that her laws and the cons'titutions of the institute be ob-served, both of-which prescribe the change of superiors so that no religious superior may be deprived pf the blessing of obedience. ,.' It is to be noted that when conditions are equal between a superior in office and a new carJdidate, preference should.be given to the new candidate. In :this way unpleasant situations'can be avoided and a greater num-ber of religious will be formed for governing. 3. In governing, in making the necessary decisions, such as changes, transfers, the equal distribution of work, one must "be guided by wisdom and charity. ' 4, In making ;¢isitations all the necessary time should be taken to examine well everything regarding the subjects, the houses, the registers, and the like. Each religious should be given an opportunity to speak freely and privately. The superiors and religious charged with various offices should enjoy a certain amount of' trust, while they sh0t~ld always remember that they are religi0u,s, subject to dis-cipline according to their respective offices. 46 d~nuarg, 1953 CONGRESS 'IN) ROME Special, Training 1. The creation of institutes of" higher education similar to those already existing for religiousorders of men. In these institutions the religious will study at least the essential' elements of Christian asceti-cism, of the religious li~e, of theology, of philosophy, of pedagogy, of psy~chology, of canon and civil lav~, and other subjects necessary for the direction of cofisecrated souls. 2. The introduction of a cours~ in orientation. This course may be given in the individual institute or tothe religious of various con-gregations grouped together. The. aim of this course is to acquaint religious with the needs and the trends .of the times in their various fields of activity. ~= 3, The diffusion among the religious of reviews of general and specific interests that may be of value'to them in their apostolate.~ 4. An intelligent, study of the documents of the Holy See. The Apostolate 1. It must 'be remembered that the apostolate is a grace, a voca-tion to which one must correspond, faithfully fulfilling the new ob-ligations which have been aisumed. The spiritual values must be main.tained,"tbe spirit of. prayer must be re-awakened, and the tell- ¯ gious'must be given 'the opportunity of making their spiritual re-treats. They must have the benefit of courses an'd have access to lit-erature that will enrich' their spiritual life. 2. It must b~ remembered that the apostolate is also a science and an art and that the Holy S~e ir~sists on high standards in literary, .technical, and profession.al training of religious, on the necessity of degrees required for the exercise of the various prbfessions; on the ne-cessity of aspiring to a greater degree of proficiency, never thinking that one's training is adequate for the present need. 3. It must be remembered what great profit can be derived from the formation of secretariates for apostolic works" both in the single provinces and in the entire congregation. Collaboration' It is sad to say. that religious frequently are indifferent to one an-other in their apostolic work. Perhaps this is more noticeable among superiors than among the members. There is a tendency to act and to think as though we were not perfect Christians bound fraternally to those who like ourselves are, striving for religious perfection. Milch harm is done to the Church and to souls by this indifference and 47 danudr~,1953 many worthy apostolic works are hindered in their development by this deplorable lack of union. By fraternal collaboration we can in-tensify our common actions for the greater glory of God and ,thus realize works which would be impossible to the individual congrega- ,tions. , The superiors general conforming to the designs of the Sacred Congregation and following the example of the superiors of the reli-gious orders of men, will constitute a committee to provide a com-mon center of information, of co-ordination, and of collaboration. General Aims of Committee 1. To gather in accordance with the Secretary of the Central Commission, already existing .at the Sacred Congregation of Reli-gious, that information which could be useful to the congregation ,regarding. various problems such as questions of the apostolate, ori-entation, defense, propaganda, administration, and authoritative reports. 2. To promote congresses, conferences, and courses of general and particular interests which are deemed necessary or useful and to organize them, after having informed the proper authorities. 3. To. reply to questions that may be asked by the Holy See. 4. To present to the Sacred Congregation of Religious any in-formation that might reflect the needs and the desires of the various~ congregations. 5. To serve as a secure and rapid means of t.ransmitting~com-munications of importance to the religious 'congregations. 6. To organize works of common interest and benefit or, at leasi~, to study the concrete projects that may be presented. Particular Aims of the Committee i. To create a pontifical institute of higher religious education. 2. To suggest the organization in various countries of courses for the ascetical and pedagogical formation, both for the religious in general and for specialized groups such as superiors, mistresses of novices, and prefects of study. ;. 3. To collect sVatistics regarding the distribution' of work, ,vari-ous apostolic needs, the fruits obtained, the difficulties encountered, ~and the like. 4. To formulate conclusions on common problems to be sub-mitted to the Sacred Congregation of Religious. 5, To promote the organization of schools for higher education by groups of congregations. ' 48 Shunfing Facilities Albert Muntsch, S.3. RAILROAD yards possess shunting facilities which enable the yard-master to move quickly a row of cars ~to a siding to make room for incoming or outgoing trains. The more complete such provisions, the less danger of collision at times of heavy traffic and travel. As we go thrdugh life we all need, at times, facilities, of escape-from spiritual or moral dangers that threaten ruin 1~o the immortal soul. We need them also to find relief from the worry, depression, and disappointments that beset every traveler through the pilgrimage of life to the eternal homeland. We may regard such avenues of escape as spiritual shunting facilities. Fortunately we have them in abun-dance. Like the "rare day in ,lune" they are free to all. And what is more, these "shunting facilities" have a beneficent effect. They will surely work if we do not place an obstacle in the way. Some of the great heroes whom we honor in the calendar of (he saints tell us that a reverential glance at the crucifix was to them a source of courage and of spiritual strength in the hour of trial.~ It is easy, to imitate them. We carr~y,the cross on our rosary. How easy ¯ ¯ to look devoutly and with confidence at the sweet symbol of salva-tion! Surely there is always hope and healing for the troubled soul in the cross of Christ. Pragers consisting of three or four words--prayers which may be uttered on the crowded street, as well as in the quiet of the home, are an easy way to gain new strength and much-needed hope. Let us try to cultivate this practice of utteri,ng such ejaculatory prayers. "My 3esus, mercy," is a familiar example. We shall become the richer s~iritually for forming this excellent habit. It can provide a good avenue of escape from many of the little'worries, that eat into the~ heart and make the soul unfit for larger efforts in God's Kingdom. A brief visit to the chapel--what a wonderful means for fighting . off weariness in well-doing and for laying up new resources against the,.hour of temptation! We are in God's house.Perhaps we see other souls praying for the same graces we need in the spiritual journey. It is always edifying to enter St. Peter's Church, near the D~ar- 49 ALBERT MUNTSCH born,Station in Chicago, at any hour of the day, and become one of the man,y dev6ut clients of the Sacred' Heart. There ~ill be scoies of men and women frbm all walks of life who have turned aside from the busy street and the roar of commerce to find hea!ing for the soul. Rich and pgor, young.and old, saint and ~inner, native son and im-migrant all on the same high quest. They needed a spiritual siding so they turned into God's holy house~to avoid some snare or spir-itual danger or to lay up strength for the day's, ceaseless conflict. With a song of g.ladness from the heart we may take up anew life's daily burden. We are not like those who are without hope. We see a light ever-shining. There are many beacoi~ lights even in the darkest hour. For a loving Providence has providedus weary pil-grims, with many a station at which to stop for second wind while press!ng forward to the goal. Now such spiritual shunting facilities are of immense value to, and even of great necessity for r~li~ious. Many are engaged 'in the splendid work o~ Catholic hospitals, following in the footsteps of Christ, the Divine Physician. But both patients and nurses may. at times become wearied and their hearts may become oppressed with bitterness. They need a spiritual._siding. Religious persons should often dwell on one of the g[eatest prob-lems the problem 9f human suffering. It is contemplation on the su.fferings, of Christ which will enable them to find thoughts of hope and inspiration for their suffering patients who are about to give up the struggle, abandon ~hope, and listen to the tempter'of souls. An eminent physician refers to the immense value of the "simple habit of prayer" for those who are nervously depressed. This simple habit of prayer and an act of faith in the divine value of suffering patiently borne may provide spiritual shunting facilities.for both the nurse and heb patient. "The drudgery of the classroom" has become, almost a proverbial expression. When the duties of teaching seem hard, it would'be well for teachers to realize that in ten or twenty years the boys or girls, who~ are now often a sourde of trouble, will be young men and women. They will be on the front line and may be exposed to seri-ous temptations. Under the tutelage of the Catholic teacher, they fnust prepare themselves now for victory in that critical hour. T~his vision of the future will help provide shunting facilities for the tem-porary snarl of discouragement. The vision should prove an inspi-ration to persevere .faithfully in the Christian apostolate of teaching. 50 ( uestdons an.cl Answers When H01y Saturday services are held in a convent chapel on Satur-day evening, terminating with the Mi.dnlght Mass, what is the correct order for the Divine Office on Holy Saturday, and what versicles, re-sponses, and prayers should be used for' grace at the noon and evening meal? Should the Alleluia be omitted at grace when the Holy Saturday services take place in the-evenlng? The answers concerning'the Office are contained in a Decree of the Sacred Congregation of Rites, dated January 11, 1952 (Acta Apos-toticae Sedis, January 25., i§52, pp. 50-63), giving_ directions for the c~lebration of the Easter Vigil on Holy Saturday evening with the Easter Mass followiiag about midnight. Regarding the grace at ~able, which is not covered by the Decree, confer below. The pre-scriptions for the Divine Office are as follows: MATINS and LAUDS are not anticipated-.on Friday ev,ening, but are said Saturday.morning at.a convenient hour. At the end of Lauds the antiphon Christus factus est is ~epeated with a Pat'-'r Nos-ter, but the psalm Miserere is 6mitted. and the following prayer is substituted for the Respice quaesumus: Concede, quaesumus, Omnipotens Deus: ut qui Fitii tui resurrec-tionem devota expectatione praeuenirnus; ejusdem resurrectionis glo-riam- consequamur. The conclusion Per eundem Dorninum is said silently. SMALL HOURS are ~aid as on Holy Thursday, en~ling with the antiphon Cbristus factus est and a Pater Noster. The psalm Miserere is omitted, but the new prayer Concede is said as indicated above at Lauds. VESPERS are 'said at a.convenient h6ur in /he afternoon as on Holy Thursday, with the following changes: Antiphon 1: Hodie agtictus sum valde, sed cras solvam uincula Antiphon for the Magnificat: Principes sacerdotum et pharisaei munierunt sepulcrum, signantes lapidem, cure custodibus. The antiphon for the Magnificat is repeated and the Christus factus est, Pater Noster, and Miserere are omitted. The prayer noted above for Lauds is said: This concludes ~espers. COMPLINE is omitted on Holy Saturday evening. 51 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Revietv ?or Religious Until the Sacred Congregation of Rites issues an official text for grace at meals,, the f,ollowing, which keeps the parallel between the Office'and the meal prayers to be found in t'he Breviary at present, is suggested as a form which may be used on Holy Saturday: AT THE NOON MEAL: Cbristus factus est pro nobis obediens usque ad mortem, mortem autem crucis and a Pater Noster. Then recite the new prayer Concede, given above at the end of Lauds, ter-mmat! ng it with Per eundem Dominum "to be said silently. AT THE EVENING MEAL: V. Principes sacerdotum et pharisaei munierunt sepulchrum. R. Signantes lapidem, cure cus-todibus. Then a Pater Noster and the prayer Concede as given abo~e with its silent ending. The Alleluia will not occur in the Office or grace at table on Holy Saturday because it has not yet been su.ng officially. This will occur during the Easter Vigil. ~2m Throughout ~he year we chant the Little Office of Our Blessed Lady in choir. During the last three days of Holy Week we replace this¯ by the Office of the Roman Breviary. However, at Matins on these days we spy only the first nocturn. Is this a proper'and permissible omission? In his Hol~l Week in L. arge and Sm~ all Churches, Father Law-rence J. O'Connell states the following: "Tenebrae.services may be .held not~0nly in cathedral, collegiate, conventual, and parochial churches,.but also i,n chhpels of convents and other institutions where the Blessed Sacrament is habitually reserved . If all three nocturns of Matins cannot be sung, it is sufficient to sing the first nocturn and the Benedictus.'" (See also W'apelhorst, n. 360, 6!). The custom of replacing the Little Office of Our Lady with the Divine Office during the Sacred Triduum seems reasonable and jus-tifiable. In a congent where the Holy Week services are not held, when is it proper to uhcover the crucifix on Good Friday? There does not seem to be any special legislation on the .subject. Hence it is suggested that the crucifix be uncovered after the services held in the parish church in whose territory it is situated. Our constitutions state that if anythlncj is left over it is to be sent to the provincial house. Sometimes we have to send our salaries before we 52 Januarg, 1953 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS pay our food and book bills. We have to make so many excuses when the collector comes. This cjives us a bad local reputation, and our credit is not good. Hence firms expect us to pay cash. Is it proper to

Issue 8.2 of the Review for Religious, 1949. ; A,M, D.G;. ~ Review for Religious MAR~H 15, 1949 Beginning Men÷al Prayer . Franc;s P. LeBuffe Nearness of God . : Pafr~ck F. Murray Confidence in God . Edward J. Carney Penitential Insfrumen÷s . Winfrld Herbsf The Hundredfold . Edward Sfanfon Prudence . Albed" Munfsch Adapfafion " J. Cre~sen Book Reviews Communications Questions Answered VOLUME VIII NUMBER 2 .,~ RI::VIi::W FOR RI::LI IOUS VOLUME VIII MARCH, 1949 NUMBER CONTENTS BEGINNING BEGINNERS IN MENTAL PRAYER-- Francis P. LeBuffe, S.J . 57 COMMUNICATIONS . 61 FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 62 THE NEARNESS OF GOD--Patrick F. Murray, S.J . 63 CONFIDENCE IN GOD--Edward d. Carney., O.S.F.S . 70 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 72 RE: PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS --- Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. 73 CANONICAL LEGISLATION CONCERNING RELIGIOUS . 79 ~FHE HUNDREDFOLD---Edward Stanton, S.J . 80 PRUDENCE--A NECESSARY VIRTUE--Albert Muntsch, S.J. 82 ADAPTATION~J.Creusen, S.J . 86 BOOK REVIEWS-- The Lord's Sermon on the Mount;' You Can Change the World . . 96 BOOK NOTICES . 99 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS . 101 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 8. Shortening Canonical Year of Novitiate . 105 9. Postulant Cannot Take Vows on Deathbed . 106 10. Novice under Tw.enty-one Makes Will . , . 107 11. Supplyirig Absence from Meditation . 107 12. Typewritten Annals . 108 13. Use of Cuttings from Altar Breads . 108 14. Published Lists of Apostolic Indulgences . 108 15. Indulgences: for Rosary before Blessed Sacrament; for Renewal of Vows after Holy Communion . 108 16". Negro Candidates for Sisterhoods . 109 17. Trappistine Convent in the United States . 110 REPRINT SERIES . 112 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March, 1949. Vol. VIII, No. 2. Published bi-, monthly: January, March, May, July, September and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's Co!lege, St. Mary's, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15, 1942, at the Post Of~ce, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Adam C. Ellis,'S.J., G. Augustine Ellard, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J. Editorial Secretary: Alfred F. Schneider, S.J. Copyright, 1949, by Adam C. Ellis.Permission is hereby granted for quotations of reasonable length, provided due credit be gi~;en this review and the author. Subscription price: 2 dollars a year. Printed in U. S. A. Before writln~j to us. please consult notice on inside" back cover. Beginning Beginners in/V en!:al Prayer Francis P. LeBuffe, S.J. MANY of our Sisters, Brothers, and priests know little about" mental prayer, and the majority of them find it difficult. These are facts, and we would do well to face them. It has long been a settled conviction with me that the major cause of thi~ situation is that they have been started off wrongly. This conviction is based on personal observation and on the experience of others, and not on armchair thinking, though I think we might arrive at the same conclusion by that method also. During my thirty-three years of priesthood I have had more or less continual opportunities to know the Sisters and their ways of spiritual living, and have enjoyed the confidencesof many in low and high positions. Moreover for sixteen years it has been my privilege to give a six-hour course .of lectures on mental prayer in the Summer School of Catholic Action. This is a completely elementary course, presup-posing no knowledge of mental prayer and outlining only the bare essentials. Yet time and again trained religious and deeplyspiritually-minded priests have commented on the help they. have gained from it. I always remember the remark of a solidly trained religious, a mem-ber of one of our finest Sisterhoods: "Father, this is the first time I ever knew what it was all about." What a tragedy back of that remark ! I think the major mistakes are that we begin beginners with too long a period of mental prayer, and, secondly, we do not give them adequate or proper instruction about mental prayer before they begin. Let me first discuss the" amount of mental prayer expected of beginners in the postulancy, novitiate, or seminary. Frequently they are asked to begin with a half-hour or even a full hour. It would seem that either is far too long. Why? Because they know little about the principles of religious or seminary life, and not much more than generalities about the life of Our Lord. Being thus ignorant, how can they develop these thoughts and make reasonable application to themselves? Even on the "affective" side, their emo-tions and acts of the will have not solid enough ground on which to be based. i am always reminded of a certain Brother-postulant who had 57 FRANCIsP. LEBUFFE Reoieta for Religious been one of the last pony-express riders of the Rockies. "Points" on th~ Hidden Life had been given the night before by a priest, and the next morning Brother John put in his full hour of meditation. Later on in the day, however, he buttonholed a Brother novice: "Say, let me ask you a question. Father told us last night to ask ourselves three questions in meditation. I remembered the questions and so I asked myself. 'Who done it?' I knew the answer: 'The Lord.' 'What did He do?' I knew that answer too: 'He did carpenter, work.' 'How did He do it?' Well, anybody would know that being the Lord He done it superfine. That took me two minutes. Say what did you guys do with the other 58 minutes?" In mental prayer, we "chew the cud"--I am talking now of dis-cursive prayer, where most beginners begin--and the "cud" to be chewed is our knowledge of things spiritual. Let's face facts and realize that beginners have little or no "cud" to chew--and it is pre-cisely for that reason they are beginners. They are quite in the same position for spiritual meditation as most of us are for a meditation on atom fission. Like Brother John if I w~re to meditate on the atomic bomb, I'd ask myself "What does it mean?" Answer: "Splitting the atom." Period. Because of this, it would seem wise to start" beginners off with the easiest form of mental prayer: meditative reading. Father Lind-worsky, S.J., in his Ps~jcbolog~ of Asceticism, characterizes it as a much-neglected way of .meditating. The advantage of beginning with this simplest form is that it provides the beginner with continuous food for thought; or, to change the metaphor, it provides a continuing anchor for his thinking. From meditative reading the beginner could pass on to that age-. old form of meditation wherein we take each word or phrase of a prayer and try to dig out and spread out the thought that lies hidden therein. Thus we can take the Our Father, meditating on the word "father" and all that it implies, and then checking our findings with all these qualities we find in God. Next, the word "our" with' all "its implications of universal brotherhood. All the while, of course, we warm our hearts and intersperse our thinking with the affective prayer of will and emotions. Of course it is highly advisable to have beginners meditate as soon as possible on the life of Our Lord, for that is truly "the customary food of a devout soul." But here again we must fit the meditation to the one meditating. Most Catholics who have had a Catholic 58 March, 1949 BEGINNING IN MENTAL PRAYER education, can meditate profitably for at least a few minutes on Bethlehem, the Shepherds, the Magi, the Agony in the Garden, the Crucifixion, and so forth. But once they get away from the big, well-known my'steries, their minds are either a completely blank page ¯ or they indulge in specfilations which may be entirely awry or at variance with the true doctrine enshrouded in the mystery. We don't ask high school students to write college essays, and we don't ask college students to write doctorate dissertations. Why then ask of beginners in the spiritual life what can reasonably be expected only of maturer religious? We are not, of course, discounting the workings of grace whereby God can and does freely grant a real gift of prayer to one yet unschooledin asceticism. Nor are we demanding a deal of learned knowledge for meditatiton. Our contention is simply this, that barring an unusual grace from God it is bard to amplify a thought if one hasn't got a thought. The lack of proper instruction preparatory to all attempt at meditation is, as I see it, the second'cause of the deplorable mental-prayer condition among religious and priests. If we begin with the simpler forms of mental prayer, no lengthy instruction is needed. The best way to instruct is to make the medi- ¯ ration out loud with the beginners. Many rules are quite unneces-sary. The instructor meditates aloud with them, always using the personal pronoun "I" and meditating as though he were a postulant, novice, or seminarian himself. This gives "audience identifica-tion" and soon his voice becomes their own audible thinking. ~/Thus Ican beginwithten minutes meditativereading. I read sentence, think it over aloud. Read another sentence and think it over aloud, frequently chatting it out with Our Lord in my own simple way and telling Him exactly how I feel about it. Utter simplicity should be stressed. Time and again I have bad students in the mental prayer classes tell of their suprise and comfortwhen they realized for the first time that they could talk with God exactly as they felt, no matter what their mood, and exactly as they would with mother, father, or any human friend. It makes one wonder whether we have not overformalized our praying and constructed too compli-cated. a machinery for our approach to God. Prayer is truly "rever-ent intimacy with God." I am afraid we have been stressing the "reverent" rather than the "intimacy." That may have been well enough in Old Testament times amid the thunders and lightnings of 59 FRANCIS P. LEBUFFE Revieu., for Rel[qious Sinai, but it does not quite fit in with the called-for approach to the Babe of Bethlehem or the Man of Sorrows. Again, as to the amount of time, it would seem to be wiser to begin with not more than ten minutes a day for at least the first two weeks or longer. Thereafter increase to fifteen minutes a day for another two weeks (or longer). Remember mental prayer is like olives: one must develop a taste and relish for it. In the courses on mental prayer I have always restricted the time of each little medita-tion to three or four minutes. Thus young people are not bored and they find out practically that something worth while can be done in even a few minutes. Only recently I talked on mental prayer to the sodalists of the School of Business Administration of Fordham Uni-versity. I bad time to make only three three-minute meditations with them. The sodallsts were motionless: one could have heard a pin drop. At the end the prefect, a young man, in closing the meeting said: "I never knew prayer could be so warm and natural." Years ago in Chicago at.a S.S,C.A. a U.S. sailor said to me: "Father, this mental prayer is wonderful. It is as refreshing as a glass of cold water from a spring!" The sad result of a bad start in meditat, ing either from an over-dose or lack of proper preliminary instruction is a complete floun-dering in a vacuum of thoughtlessness. And the sadder result is that having made a bad start afloundering, the religious or priest con-tinues for a long time to flounder in a vacuity. It might be well to add two further remarks. The way, of course,, to remedy the beginner's lack of spiritual knowledge is to give him heavy doses of spiritual reading, using only time-tested masters in the spiritual life and lives of Christ which are thoroughly authentic, such as for example, Maas, Fouard, Mescbler,-Le Camus. Fluffy-ruffle spiritual books should find no room on the library shelves of novitiates and seminaries. Spiritually well-read and hence well-fed religious and seminarians will soon have an ample "cud" whereon to chew. Another thing is.to remember that we Americans find thinking difficult. Give us something to do and we are happy. Ask us to remain qui~t and think--well, we soon get restless or go to sleep. (That native trait may be a far deeper cause of our poverty in mental prayer, than the more evident ones I have mentioned.) When thinking of some of our meditations and meditators, I am reminded of the story told by Father William Stanton, S.J. While giving a 6O March, 1949 COMMUNICATIONS mission in a village, he went down to the country store and started chatting with the "regulars" sitting akound the store stove. "What do you men do all day? . Well, Parson, sometimes we sets and thinks, and sometimes we only sets." Wouldn't that label truly many of our meditations? Can't we remedy it? Communica!:ions Reverend Fathers : It occurred to me as I read in REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the discus-sions about worldliness in religious communities that a convent is the best place on earth in which to make a study of unworldliness. From the moment the rising bell rings at the unworldly hour of five in all kinds of weather until taps at ten at night the Sisters have been "on. call." Look at the day's agenda: morning meditation, Holy Mass, breakfast in silence, teaching or nursing duties until lunch time and again until afternoon prayer and spiritual reading, supper in silence, a short recreation period in a common room, study, night prayer-- everything on schedule for nine months of the year. Into the summer vacation are crowded an eight-day retreat, six weeks of summer school either as teachers or students, or teaching a vacation school in a rural district preparing children for first Com-munion and confirmation. This is the routine followed by Sisters who live in colleges, academies, hospitals, parochial school residences, orphan homes. Wherever the Sister's assignment is, her day is a long one and entirely out of harmony with the 44-hour week of women in the world. Sisters haven't time to be worldly. They surely are not worldly in their attire. Their uniforms were not designed for either b~auty or comfort. They are not usually known by their worldly names. The names they are known by are often not their choice, and many times they are not euphonious. They do riot attend worldly amusements. They probably see during the course of the year five or six carefully selected movies in their college or academy hall. Their convent parties are strictly exclusive and unworldly. Now all this does not go to prove that Sisters are ready-made saints. They are human; and it is amazing how, living the common life, each one retains her own individuality through all the years allotted to her. It is my firm conviction that the number of worldly Sisters in any community is a small minority. The rank and file of all Sisters are carrying the sweet yoke of Christ bravely and sweetly.~A SISTER (Golden Jubilarian) 61 Your lnr orrnaUon Reprint Series The last page (112) of the present number carries a definite an-nouncement of the reprint series that was suggested tentatively in No-vember, 1948. We delayed in making this announcement ii~ the hope. that we might find a distributor for the booklets, as we are not equipped for that kind of work. Up to this time, however, we have been unsuccessful in our quest for a satisfactory distributing plan; hence we will do the best we can. Because of our lack of facilities, xve must insist that those who order booklets carefully observe the direc-tions outlined on page 11 Please note the differences between the reprints now available and those listed as tentative in November. Number 2 on that list was made up of articles on the novitiate. Requests for those articles were not sufficient to warrant our reprinting them; in their place we are reprinting the articles on Gifts to Religious by Father Ellis. Number 3 on the tentative llst was to consist of four articles by Father Kelly (two on emotional maturity, and two on the particular friendship). As two of these articles are comparatively short, we have decided to add a fifth article (on Vocational Counseling). This first edition of the reprints is merely an experiment. We are printing only a limited number; and we do not intend to print more unless it becomes quite evident that the project is really worth while. If you wish copies, it would be well to send your order immediately. Summer Sessions . The Sisters of St. Francis of Assisi will conduct a six weeks' sum-mer session, under the auspices of the Cardinal Stritch College, Mil-waukee, for Sisters who are interested in. the care and education of mentally handicapped children. Enrollment limited. Apply to: The Psychological Instiiute, St. Coletta School for Exceptional Chil-dren, Jefferson, Wisconsin. Immaculate Heart College, Los Angeles, California, offers the following special summer features: Reading Clinic for Elementary Teachers; Workshop in High School Administration; Series of Courses on St. Thomas Aquinas; Audio Visual Education; Cerema-ics; The Great Books Program; All-day Conference for Teachers of [Continued on 13. II1] 62 The Nearness of God Patrick F. Murray, S.3. iN OUR DAILY religious life, with its care and duties as well as its monotony, it is so easy to lose sight of the grand purpose of our consecrated lives. We know that deep down within our souls there is a quiet and profound love for Our Lord that has ever been, and still is, the motivating power that keeps us going from day to day. "I live, now not I, but Christ liveth in me," as St Paul has expressed it; or again, "The charity of Christ drives us on." But amid the din and confusion a'nd cares that every day brings with it, it is quite easy to become entangled with so many visible duties that they gradually tend to obscure the silent flame of love within our hearts. They would extinguish it altogether if we did .not keep it alive with unrelenting effort in prayer. Constant prayer is the only fuel that can make it burn brightly so that it in turn will continue to motivate our actions in God's service. Great Appeal of Sensible Things The great appeal of things visible is something that everyone who would lead a spiritual life must struggle against constantly. We know that we love Our I, ord. We are eager to work to prove our love, because love proves itself in deeds, But we are so very much creatures of sense. It is so easily possible tolose our clear vision and to become so interested in the work we are doing to prove our love, that soon we come to find ourselves working because we have come to love the task given us rather than because we love our Divine Master. Before we know it, we are seeking praise and honor for our work instead of seeking tl~e praise and the honor of His Divine Majesty, as we started out to do. Our motivation has changed and our super-natural vision has dimmed by constant contact with the visible things around us. With God's gtrace and with constant effort we have to recall painfully that we are not working for a corruptible crown nor for a visible reward; but we are striving for an incorruptible crown from the loving hands of a still invisible Master. Highlg Recommended Practice lOne of the most highly recommended ways of keeping ourselves 63 PATRICK F. MURRAY Re~;iew for Religious on the path of perfection and of keeping our intention pure in God's service is to cultivate the habit of consciously living and working in His divine presence. He is present anyway, whether we think of Him or not; but it will help so very much if we can come to realize His nearness, for "in Him we live, and move, and have our being" (Acts 17:28). There is no point of our spiritual life more important; there is no easier means of personal sanctification : no means that can be more efficacious; no supernatural truth more fruitful in its results than an abiding and vitalizing sense of His divine nearness. Reward of Angels and Practice of Saints The angels in heaven are very fortunate. They stood up under .trial when the rebel angels fell. Now, while Lucifer and his followers burn for all eternity, the faithful angels possess what we are trying attain--the happiness of being with God forever. The saints are there too; and because they stood up under this trial which we call life, they share the bliss of the angels. The happiness of both the angels and saints in heaven consists in actuallyseeing and enjoying the infinite beauty of God in all the splendor of His divine majesty. Our Lord speaking of the angels said, "Their angels see the face of my Father in heaven" (Matt. 18:10). Among the saints of the Old Testament, a common manner of speaking was ever: "A~ the Lord liveth, in whose presence I stand" (III Kings 17:1). This practice was habitual with them as well as with the saints of the New Law. As David put it: "I kept the Lord ever before my eyes, because He is ever at my right hand, that I may not slip" (Ps. 15:8). Our Reward Also God created us so that someday we might come to stand eternally before Him in heaven and enjoy the sight of Him for all eternity. In this life He would have us attain to some kind of resemblance of that eternal happiness. This we can do by consciously walking in His presence, even though as in the twilight rather than in the full bright-ness of the eternal day. "Now I see as in a glass, in a dark manner; then we shall see Him face to face" (I Cot. 13:12). The. clear vision is the reward, the glory, the happiness that we hope for now. Walking in a spirit of faith in His presence, even though as "in a glass in a dark manner," is one of our best guarantees that we shall eventually come to see Him "face to face." Where Is God? The first wrong idea that we must rid ourselves of is that God is 64 March, 19 4 9 THE NEARNESS OF GOD somewhere away up in the heavens beyond the farthest star; or tha~ He is in some unattainable place that we cannot begin to approach in this life; that He is inaccessible. Of all the beings in existence, God is the easiest to contact. He is right here where you are this very moment, and at the same time He is in every conceivable place in the whole vast range of creation. He fills the whole world. "Do I not fill heaven and earth" (Jer. 23:24) ? He is whole in the world, and whole in every part of the world, no matter how large or how small. He is outside us, within us, all about us. We are living in God; not as part of Him (that would beto fall into the error of pantheism), .but as St. Paul tells us: "He is not far from each of us, since in Him we live, and move, and have our being" (Acts 17:27-28). The classic expression of this magnificent truth is David's: "Whither shall I go from Thy spirit; or whithe? shall I flee from Thy face? If I ascend into heaven Thou art there; if I descend into hell Thou art present. If I take wings early in the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, Even there shall thy hand guide me, and thy right hand sustain me. Perhaps darkness shall cover me . But darkness shall not be dark to Thee, and night shall be as light as day." (Ps. 138:7-12.) God is more intimately present to us than we are to ourselves. He is the source of all life; the basic strength of all power; the source of all being and all existence. If it were not" for His omnipotence sus-taining us and every other creature, we would all fall back into the nothingness from which we were made. We are sustained by God, surrounded by God, encompassed by God. Some Comparisons The whole world is full of His presence. St. Augustine tries to give us some idea of what'this means by the illustration of a sponge in the midst of the ocean. It is surrounded by water; soaked with ¯ water, inside and out. But this comparison falls short of the manner in which God is present to us, because the sponge may sink to the bot-tom or be washed ashore; but we can never, in any way, get out of the presence of God. He is immense and infinite as well as omni-present. He is a pure spirit and penetrates us through and through-- something like light filling every particle of a crystal ball; or like an iron bar that has been thrust into the fire and heated to such a degree that it is almost impossible to differentiate the fire from the heated bar. It is white hot and looks more like a bar of fire than a bar of 65 PATRICK F. MURRAY Review [or Religious iron. But God is still more present within us, and to every one of His creatures. Sucb comparisons merely serve to give us some faint idea of the rehlity. God Is Present to Our Eoer~l Thought It is very difficult for the limited human mind to grasp such a concept. We cannot even begin to imagine the nature of such a Being who can be present at all times to every one of His creatures no matter how far apart they may be. Cardinal Wiseman brings this truth out very strikingly in his book Fabiola. In a beautiful passage Syra, the Christian slave, tries to explain the presence of God to bet young mis-tress, Fabiola. "Simple as light is His nature," she says, "one and the same everywhere, indivisible, ubiquitous, unlimited. He existed long before there was any beginning. He wil, l, exist after all ending has ceased. Power, wisdom, goodness, 16ve,--justice, too, and unerring judgment,--belong to His nature and are as unlimited and unrestrained as it. He alone can create; he alone preserve; He alone destroy." But then Syra goes on to the point that is more intimately con-cerned with our consideral~ion. She tells bet young mistress that to watch and note the l~hougbts and actions of every one of His creatures requires no effort or causes no trouble for this Infinite, Being, far less than the trouble it takes for the sun to light up with its ranis whatever it shines on. God is more intimately present to every one of His crea-tures and to the entire universe than light is to the rays of the sun. After pondering these thoughts, no wonder that Fabiola cries out: "What an awful thought t, hat one has never been, alone, has never had a wish to oneself, has never had a single thought in secret, has never hidden the most foolish fancy of a proud and childish brain from the observation of One who knows no imperfection. Terrible thought,.,that one is living ever under the steady gaze of an all-seeing Eye, of~hich the sun is but a shadow, for the sun never enters the soul!" (Ch. 16.) Source of Strength God, therefore, is everywhere; and yet He is so near. No matter what we think, He knows it. No matter what we say, He hears it. No matter what we do, He sees it. This is a thought that can be as consoling for those who sincerely try to serve Him as it can be terrible forthe most secret sinner. A deep realization of God's presence is a source of strength for souls who are naturally timid. Encircled by 66 March, 1949 THE NEARNESS OF GOD His loving presence they are able to present to the world that won-derful combination of timidity and moral courage which can belong to the Christian heart alone. Frequently, such is the explanation of unexpected strength of character in men and women who are not by nature strong and independent; yet when the occasion arises they are able to stand up under very difficult circumstances. They are quietly strong and self-possessed in their deep realization that of themselves they are nothing, 'but God is their'strength and their power. Special Graces of Saints Some of the great saints received special graces which enabled them to imagine Our Lord ever at their side under one form or another, such as Jesus Crucified, or in the power and glory of His resurrection. It requires special graces to carry on with such efforts of the imagination. But for ordinary souls, such efforts of the imagina-tion are not at all necessary. Spirit of Faith Is Necessary All that is really necessary is to accept in a spirit of simple faith that God is present and interested in absolutely everything we do, for such is the truth. Christ Our Lord, as Man, is present in heaven and in the Blessed Sacrament. But as Man, He is not present everywhere. ¯ As Man, He has a definite form and body, and we can imagine how He must have looked when He was on earth. He is also God as well as Man. But God, as God, cannot be imagined. He is a pure Spirit. "No one has ever seen God at any time. The only-begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, He has revealed Him." (John 1:18.) "The spirit of the Lord has filled the round of the earth" (Wis. 1:7). There is no need to imagine what is not. All that is necessary is simply to believe what is. Simple faith in God's presence is all that is needed ! How in Actual Practice But how is this to work out in actual practice? In his Epistle to the Hebrews, St. Paul says of Moses: "God being invisible, he con-sidered Him as present as if he saw Him" (Heb. 11:27). It is some-thing like being in a very dark room with another person present. We cannot see him, but we know that he is there. He makes his presence known by his actionsfrom time to time. We can know God by faith and by His works. "We see now in a dark manner"; so we may con-sider in a spirit of simple faith that God is present. It is enough to 67 PATRICK F:. MURRAY know that He is here as our most loving Father and Friend, to rejoice in His presence no matter where we may be, no matter what we may be doing at the moment. We cannot see how He is present because we are still in the darkness of this life. We must live with faith in His presence and with hope that on the morrow of eternity He will discover Himself to us in all the magnificence of His divine majesty; and we shall see Him as He is. "When He shall appear, then we shall be like to Him: because we shall see Him as He is" (I John 3:2). Acts of Desire and Looe Most Necessary It is not enough to know that God is ever present to us. We must let such knowledge flow over into acts of the will, into personal acts of desire and love for Him. When we adore Our Lord present in the Blessed Sacrament we do not spend a lot of time trying to figure out how He is present. It is the same with this exercise of taking advan-tage of God's nearness to us. We take it on faith that He is present and walk lovingly in His company. So we "go about our daily duties with a greater zest and cheerfulness, knowing that we are performing every action of the day in His divine presence; knowing, too, that He realizes we are doing our every act, no matter how big or how little, out of love for Him alone. Our reflection from time to time on His presence is a greater incentive to do all things as perfectly as pos-sible with the help of His grace. "Whether you eat or drink, or what-ever else you do, do it all for the glory of God" (I Cot. 10:31). Pray Atu)a~ls Once Our Lord said: "We must always pray, and never give up" (Luke 18: I). There would seem to be no better manner of carrying out this wish of Our Lord than ever walking in His presence, doing all things out of love for Him alone. As St. Paul expresses it: "You are no longer strangers and for-eigners, but fellow citizens of the saints, and domestics of the house of God" (Eph. 2: 19). By living in such a spirit all our dealings and conversation can become a thing not of this earth but of heaven. And we carry out St. Paul's ~urther advice: "Fixing our gaze not on the things that are seen, but on the things that are not seen; for the things that are seen are temporal, but the things that are unseen are eternal" (II Cor. 4:18). Strength in Temptation Further, we must remember that when we act. in this way, we must not consider God Our Father at some great distance from us, 68 March, 1949 THE NEARNESS OF GOD watching us. He is actually present and interested in everything we do. This makes the practice easy and sweet, and helps us to be on the alert to find new ways to please Him. It is also a great h~lp in temp-tation to realize that He sees us and knows our inmost thoughts and the depths of our souls, reading there the amount of true sincerity we have in trying to overcome the temptations that bother us. He knows our strength and our weakness, and is ever present to help us. It is always a good thing to recall that every temptation takes place in the very presence of God : that every sin takes place right in' His very pres-ence. And when we overcome a temptation and prove our love, we do that, too, right in His very presence; and we are sure of a reward for every battle fought and won for His love. In temptation, call to mind such texts as: "Come to my help, O God; O Lord, make haste to defend me" (Ps. 69:2). Or again, such aspirations as: "O God, my Strength, strengthen me! . Never per-mit me, dear God, to offend Thee." "0 God, may I die rather than offend Thee !" Kinds of Pra~jers to God Present The best and most effectual aspirations, whether in time of temp-tion or in time of loving conversation with God, are those which our own hearts conceive, moved by His grace. In our ordinary prayers or conversations with God so near to us, we should speak about even the most trivial things and the most intimate things as'though with a friend. It is not at all necessary to have a great number of prayers; nor is strain of any kind necessary. One short prayer, provided it expresses the thoughts of our souls, can be r~peated over and over again, and is sufficient. Or again, a Gospel text from the morning meditation repeated over and over again is very pleasing to God, because He knows that you mean it as words of simple and sincere love as you move about on the rounds of your daily life and work in His loving presence. "For what have I in heaven? And besides Thee, what do I desire on earth? For Thee my flesh and my heart have fainted away. Thou art the God of my heart, the God who is my portion forever." (Ps. 72:25-26.) 69 Confidence in God Edward J. Carney, O.S.F.S. WHENEVER his security is threatened, man experiences fear, and he attempts to escape, if possible, the impending evil. Properly controlled this emotion plays an important and use-ful part in developing the 'human personality. For example, one who did not fear the rapidly moving vehicles at a busy traffic intersection would regret his rashness. It is natural, then, for a man to experience fear under certain circumstances. Even Our Lord feared the death decreed for him: "And he took with him Peter and the two sons of Zebedee; and he began to be distressed and discouraged. Theri he said to them, 'My soul is sorrowful unto death.' " (Matt. 26:37- 38.) Fear, however, very frequently exceeds its proper limits. An excellent example of this is the worry and anxiety that trouble many" areligious. In a life dedicated to God through renunciation of the world there must be difficulties. Sometimes these are of great con-sequence; more often than not they are the minor crosses ot~ daily life experienced even by lay people. An improper viewpoint in meeting them, consisting in too little confidence in God, destroys the religious' perspective. Hi~ fear becomes pronounced, manifests itself in worry and anxiety, and makes him doubtful of success in his chosen w'ay of life. Some examples from Holy Scripture will help illustrate these points. Lack of faith in God begets fear. When the storm at sea threat-ened to overwhelm their boat, the disciples awakened Jesus, saying: " 'Lord, save us! we are perishing!' And he saith to them, 'Why are ye afraid, O ye of little faith?' " (Matt. 8:i5-26.) This fear coming from mistrust of God's providence makes a man doubtful of his ability to face a situation. "And Peter answered and said to him, 'Lord, if it be thou, bid me come to thee upon the waters.' And he said, 'Come.' And Peter went down from the boat and walked upon the waters and came unto Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was struck with fear; and beginning to sink, he cried out, saying, 'Lord, save me.' And straightway Jesus stretched forth his hand and took hold of him, and he saith to him, 'O thou of little faith, why didst thou doubt?'" (Matt. 14:28-31.) 70 CONFIDENCE IN GOD An analysis of excessive fears and anxieties will undoubtedly dis-close that insufficient trust in God is a partial cause. The religious fears the demar~ds of obedience, a new charge, a new assignment. "Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?" Beset by temptations against the vow of chastity the religious questions his strength. "Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?" The mental serenity of the religious is disturbed by daily problems. "Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?" If mistrust of God's providence produces fear and worry, trust in God is accompanied by courage and peace. When the apostles cried out in fear as they saw Christ walking on the sea, 3esus immediately spoke to them, saying: "Be of good heart; it is I, fear not" (Matt. 14:27), After the Resurrection the apostles were gathered together in the upper room. Suddenly 3esus stood among them and said: "Peace be to you! It is I. Be not afraid." (Luke 24:36.) The quality of this faith or trust inGod is also indicated by Christ: "And 3esus answering saith to them, 'Have faith in God. Amen I say to you, whoever saith to this mountain, "Be thou lifted up and cast into the sea," and doubteth not in his heart, but believeth that what he saith is to come to pass, it shall be done for him. Wherefore I say to you, whatsoever things ye ask for in prayer, believe that ye have received them, and they shall come unto .you.' " (Mark 11:22-24.) A religious who allows fear and doubt to color his life may unconsciously make the mistake of believing his problems either too great or too small for God's consideration. If he believes they are too great, he approaches God halfheartedly. Reflection on some passages from the New Testament will convince such a person that the miracles of Christ were performed for those who believed in him. Hence even the greatest difficulties are not insurmountable when a person turns to God in loving faith and confidence. Faith in Christ obtained the cure of the paralytic: "And 3esus, seeing their faith, said to the paralytic, 'Be of good heart, my child; thy sins are forgiven' " (Matt. 9:2). It was a means of res'toring sight to the blind: "And 3esus saith to them, 'Believe ye that I can do this?' They say to him, 'Yea, Lord.' Then he touched their eyes, saying, 'Be it done to you according to your faith.' " (Matt. 9:28-29.) It was required of a father before his child was brought back to life: "But ~lesus, overhearing what was said, saith to the president, 'Fear not, only believe!' . . . And taking the child by the hand he saith to her. 'Maiden, I say to thee, arise!' And straightway the maiden rose and walked." (Mark 5:36-42.) It 71 EDWARDJ. CARNEY won divine pardon for a hardened sinner: "And he said, 'Jesus, remember me when thou comest in thy kingdom.' And he said to him, 'Amen I si~y to thee, this day thou shalt be with me in para-dise.' " (Luke 23:42-43.) Not only .the great events of life but even the smallest detail falls under God's providence. "Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them falleth to the ground without your Father. But as for you, the very hairs of your hexd are all numbered. Wherefore fear ye not; ye are of greater worth than many sparrows." (Matt. 10:29-31.) "And he said unto his disciples, 'Therefore I say to you, be not anxious about your life, what ye are to eat; nor for your body, how ye are to be clothed. For the life is more than the food, and the body more than the clothing. Consider the ravens, how th~y sow not nor reap, neither have they store-room or barn, and God feedeth them. Of how much greater worth are ye than the birds~ If then the grass in the field, which today liveth and tomorrow is to be cast into the oven; God doth so array, how much more you, of little faith! Seek ye not therefore what you are to eat and what you are to drink . . . your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of these things. But seek ye his kingdom, and these things shall be added unto you.'" (Luke 12:22-31.) This trust in God presupposes resignation to God's will. It ever bears in mind that God is far more effective in directing human events than man, that what seems an evil on the natural plane may really be a means of advancing in God's grace if accepted with the proper spir-itual dispositions. Thus in turning away from unnecessary fears and worries it does not fall into the fault of presumption. Rather it con-ditions the religious to view all things in their proper perspective and to avoid unnecessary fear by turning to God in confidence and resig-nation. It eliminates doubt, anxiety, and worry, and allows the reli-gious to face life at peace with himself and with God. OUR CONTRIBUTORS EDWARD J. CARNEY is superior of the House of Studies of the Oblates of St. Francis de Sales, Washington, D.C. J. CREUSEN. well-known authority on canon law, is a professor at the Gregorian University, Rome. WINFRID HERBST, writer, retreat master, is on the faculty of the Salvatorian 'Seminary, St. Nazianz, Wisconsin. FRANCIS P. LEBUFFE, for many years on the staff of America, is at present engaged in Sodality work in the East. ALBERT MUNTSCH is a professor of sociology a-nd philosophy at St. Louis University. PATRICK F. MURRAY is a mem-ber of the Jesuit Mission Band of the Maryland Province. EDWARD STANTON is completing his theological studies at Weston College, Weston, Massachusetts. 72 Re: Penitential Instruments Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. IN A DRAWER in my desk I have a large candy box containing an assortment of penitential instruments, to wit: one large hair shirt made of sterilized horsehair and one hair waistband of the same material; one large and 6ne small discipline made of Spanish hemp as well as one plain and one studded discipline made Of small but e~- cient steel chains; one waist chain and one arm chain made of stainless steel wire, the points of which will bear a bit of filing flat lest they pierce the skin. The set is purely for purposes of study and demon-stration-- visual instruction of a rare kind. Many religious (dare I say "most"?) have never seen the like. I confess that the very feel of some of them makes me shudder; and a young novice who saw them for the first time turned pale, grew weak at the sight, and, knowing that discretion is the better part of valor, sat down on a convenient chair. Among the instruments in this formidable collection (and I sup-pose there are other styles and varieties) I look upon the steel chains and the steel disciplines, especially the studded discipline, as the most dangerous, as apt to cause wounds that in our day of germs could easily lead to infection and medical care. The chains should never be so sharp-pointed as to pierce the skin and should be worn only for brief periods of an hour or so at a time and when one is at ease, as during meditation; and should invariably be removed when one is going to be in any way actively engaged. And the steel-pointed dis-cipline, to my mind, should be used only for display purposes, to show that modern man is not as thick-skinned as his ancestors were. The large hair shirt and the hair band cause me less perturbation. Both can be worn for brief periods, not to exceed an hour, let us say, unless one finds that it is injurious, causing subsequent rash, itch, and so forth. The waistband may be worn over the skin but the large hair shirt is better worn over the underwear or even over the shirt. The one in my collection is a wicked thing and reminds you quite insistently that you are a poor sinner even when worn in this com-promise manner. The hempen disciplines are the simplest and safest instruments in ¯ my interesting collection, provided one reasonably limits the strokes, 73 WINFRID HERBST Ret~iew for Religious both as regards number and force, and lets them fall discreetly on that portion of the body which can best take punishment without real injury, where the proverbial dad (now outdated too) applied the ; strap out in. the woodshed. Those are just my ideas, of course; others may think otherwise but not necessarily so wisely. And I know of religious who have used even the chains (points filed fia!!) regularly several times a week for years and never a bit of harm did it do them, though it was real penance, especially the putting on of the clammy thing on a cold win-ter morning ! Before I go any further, I wish it to be distinctly understood, as shall be several times repeated, that none of the above penitential instruments or others like them may be used without special permis-sion from one's confessor or spiritual director--permission as regard:~ manner of use and length of time--permission that is given only after due discussion of all the factors involved. It is, of course, quite evi-dent that this permission is not necessary in those institutes which prescribe such penances by rule or by legitimate custom, unless it is ,expressly mentioned in the constitutions that one must, even in the case of custom, have the confessor's permission. Nor does this per-mission seem to be necessary for a very moderate occasional use (by way of experiment, for instance), unless.it is evident from the pre-vailing practice of the institute that nothing at all of this nature "may be done without spiritual direction. The question now arises: Is the use of these penitential instru-ments to be recommended at all? That depends. If you are an utterly unmortified religious, an unobservant religious, one who is not even making an attempt to keep the ordinary constitutions-- the answer is, no! You have many more important mortifications to practice before you even attempt these supererogatory practices. You should remember that no source of mortification is more efficacious, universal, and secure than the perfect observance of the holy rule, that its observance is surer and more meritorious than any self-chosen penance. If, however, you are a truly observant religious and are doing all your state of life demands as perfectly as possible--the answer is, yes, with due discretion and the permission of your con-fessor or spiritual director, remembering that these practices are not of obligation. The rules of most religious orderk or congregations do not offi-cially impose any corporal mortification but only suggest ~he idea. 74 March, 19 4 9 RE: PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS Thus in various constitutions we read passages like the following: "The chastisement of the body must not be immoderate or indis-creet, in watcl~ing, abstinence, and other external penances and labors, which are wont to do hurt and hinder greater good. Wherefore it is expedient that everyone should lay open to his confessor what he does in this respect." "Since corporal penances contribute much to spiritual advance-ment, their practice must not be neglected by the members." "In the private practice of ordinary mortifications and corporal penances which are not injurious to health the members are guided by the judgment of the confessor alone: for external and public penances, however, they also need the permission of the local Superior." ""With still greater reason each one shall renounce the flesh and its concupiscences, pride and its suggestions, ambition and its intrigues, causing, according to the words of the apostle, 'his members to die,' even though it required fasting, the discipline, and the hair shirt. No austerity, however, is' to be practiced by a religious without the per-mission of his confessor or Director." This last passage, from Directions for Novitiates of the Congre-gation of the Hohj Cross1 by the Very Rev. Gilbert Francais, C.S.C., is commented on at length in that excellent classic. From those pages of comment (40-44) I make the following extracts: "Corporal mortification is more than a humiliation; it is both a humiliation and a physical pain that we very willingly impose on ourselves, either for the purpose of keeping ourselves from sin, or in order to punish ourselves for having sinned, or for the still higher motive of suffering with Christ Who suffered for us. This simple definition places corporal mortification beyond the reach of the silly and unjust ridicule to which the spirit of the world would subject it. The world very readily admits that we may inflict sufferings, may accept sufferings,' or may impose sufferings on ourselves, for the fur-therance of great human interests. It admits, it demands, it requires, that to save the country we shall fast, shall go through painful exer-cises by which the body is worn down and broken; shall accustom ourselves to carry heavy burdens, to make long marches, to put up with hunger, thirst, cold and heat; to sleep on straw or the bare ground, occasionally to pass whole Mgbts without sleep; in a word, to break and discipline ourselves in every way. This is the fate in 1Published by the Ave Maria Press, Notre Dame, Indiana. Quotations with special permission of the editor, Father P. d. Carroll. C.S.C., who writes: "The book, how-ever, is out of print and I do not know where you could obtain copies of it." 75 WINFRID HERBST Revieu~ ior Religious store for all soldiers, and the most beautiful names are given to this spirit of sacrifice and mortification in favor of a noble object. "The world even goes so far as to allow its votaries to suffer, to expose themselves to a thousand sacrifices, to a thousand sufferings, for the object of a sinful passion. Not only does it not laugh at these mortifications, but it reads the history of them in novels with intense interest, and in the theatre it looks upon the representation of them with eager avidity. Those mortifications which the world admits and admires when there is question of defending our country, or even of concentrating on a guilty passion--by a strange perversity it ceases to tolerate them and it mocks them when it is a question of defending one's soul against the powers of darkness, of .saving it for eternity, and of following in the footsteps of Christ . There is a serious lesson for us in this, and we are almost guilty when, at the instigation of this thoroughly wicked spirit, condemned irremediably by Our Lord, we blush at Christian mortifications, and when, on this point, we are tempted to return a smile for its laugh--a laugh both stupid~ and shameless. "Corporal mortification is, therefore, most truly noble. This is not all. There may be circumstances, and especially for the Religious who is called to such delicate perfection even in l~is secret tl~oughts, in which it becomes a moral necessity . "Corporal mortification is useful not merely to triumph over exceptional dangers; it serves to avert them, to remove them further and further from" us, and, in a manner, to render them infrequent. It is an act of manly e, nergy and of higher authority towards a body which should be kept in its place as a slave and made to obey. It is an act of justice by which we ourselves, with our own hands, punish ourselves for having sinned; and not only does God approve of this expiation and recognize its value, but He is pleased with us because of our own accord we execute what His justice would require Him to inflict on us in the flames of Purgatory . " 'No austerity, however is to be practiced without the permis-sion of one's confessor or Director.' This condition is wise and necessary, in order to check indiscreet zeal towards one's self, to be sure of doing" the holy will of God, and to add to the intrinsic, merit of the act by which we mortify ourselves the great merit of obedi-ence." I know there are many kinds of mortification: interior, of imagination, mind, will, heart, the passions; exterior, sight, hearing, 76 March, 1949 RE : PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS taste, touch, smell, tongue. I know that the mortification of the senses, as St. Francis de Sales says, is more profitable than the wearing of hair shirts or steel chains or using the discipline. "I know that in addition to taking what God sends in the line of sickness and so forth, in addition to doingone's duty,and in addition to the Church's fast and abstinence, the faithful observance of the prescriptions of modesty and good deportment offer an extensive (and, alas! often uncultivated) field for mortification. But in this article I am lim-iting myself to corporal mortifications of the kind suggested by my collection of penitential instruments. In The Spiritual Life by Tanquerey we read (No. 774) : "There are other positive means of mortification which penitent souls inspired by generosity deIigbt to employ in 'order to subdue their bodies, to temper the importunities of the flesh and give vent to their holy desires. The more customary ones are small iron bracelets clasped to the arms, chains worn about the loins, hairshirts, or a few strokes of the discipline when this last can be done without attracting any notice. As to all such practices one must faithfully follow the advice of one's spiritual director, shun whatever tends to evince any singularity or to flatter vanity, not to speak of whatever would be against the rules of hygiene and personal cleanliness. The spiritual director should not give his sanction to any of these extraordinary .practices except with the greatest discretion, only for a time, and on trial. Should it come to his notice that any inconveniences arise therefrom, he must bring them to a halt." As a footnote to this he says: "To resume the practices of corporal mortification is one of the most effective means of regaining lost joy of spirit and fervor of soul: 'Let us go back to our bodily mortifications. Let us bruise our flesh and draw a littl~ of our blood, and we shall be as happy as the day is long. If the Saints are such gay spirits, and monks and nuns such unaccountably cheerful creatures, it is simply because their bodies, like St. Paul's, are chastised and kept under with an unflinching sharpness and a vigorous discretion.' (Faber, The Blessed Sacra-ment, Book II, Section VII.)" It is perhaps this expression of Father Faber's, "draw a little of our blood," which prompted a religious to say to me, when I cau-tioned that one must never cause a real wound in the flesh when using penitential instruments: "But we were told that corporal penance doesn't really amount to much unless we draw a little blood." I vigorously protest. I do not agree. It does amount to much. 77 WINFRID HERBST Rep~eto for Religiotts And it is against the present-day rules of hygiene thus to d~aw even a little blood. Why, even my favorite author Cappello, Italian and ascetic as he is, gives the following rules to be observed as regards corporal morti- £cations.--Such corporal mortifications (macerations) as are too injurious to health are never permitted. The following are among macerations of this kind: (a) flagellations in which the discipline is applied to the more tender parts of the body or upon wounds not yet healed or by using a discipline studded with sharp points that pierce the flesh; (b) hair shirts made of steel thread so thin that the sharp points penetrate the flesh; or hair shirts that are too tight; or hair shirts that are.constantly worn ; (~). th~ privation of sleep, so that the penitent habitually has less than ~'~vdn hours rest. (Please note, you who burn the midnight oil!) A~ regards corpora/mortifications in genera/, we must distinguish between the case in which the penitent asks permission to employ them and the case in which there is no request for such permission. In case there is no request, the confessor may indeed advise some fasting or some other slight¯penances, but not the hair shirt or the discipline. In case the penitent does ask, the confessor usually puts him off with a view to seeing whether or not he will ask again. If he asks again and very ea'rnestly, the confessor may find it well to grant permission, provided that the penitent is very well grounded in humility and genuine wrtue, in which'case he will at first grant permission to prac-tice such and such a corporal mortification for such and such a length of time on certain days. These are the rules ordir~arily followed by a spiritual director. In case of great necessity and of a penitent disposed to do hard things, he may more easily permit macerations or advise them, but always with due prudence and discretion. (Cf. Cappello, De Sacramentis, vol. 2, No. 573, edition of 1943.) And now, in conclusion, I imagine how some of my readers have been following my ramblings with an amused smile. Perhaps they. are saying within themselves: "Evidently the good man doesn't know that we have to lay it on good and heavy, according to the rule. He seems to think that what he calls macerations are out of date." But I do know. And I do not think so. I bow myself out with the following excerpt from The Catholic Encyclopedia, arti41e "Asceticism," in volume one: "In some of the 78 March, 19 4 9 RE: PENITENTIAL INSTRUMENTS orders the rules make no mention of corporal penance at all, leaving that to individual devotion; in others great austerity is prescribed, but excess is provided against'both by the fact that the rules have been subjected to pontifical approval and because superiors can grant exceptions. That such penitential practices produce morbid and gloomy characters is absurd to those who know the light-beartedness that prevails in strict religious communities; that they are injurious to health and even abbreviate life cannot be seriously maintained in view of the remarkable longevity noted among the members of very austere orders. It is true that in the lives of the saints we meet with some very extraordinary and apparently extravagant mortifications; but in the first place, what is extraordinary, and extravagant, and severe in one generation may not be so in another which is ruder and more inured to hardship. Again, they are not proposed for imitation, nor is it always necessary to admit their wisdom, nor that the biog-rapher was not exaggerating, or describing as continual what was only occasional; and on the other band it is not forbidden to suppose that some of tl~ese penitents may have been prompted by the Spirit of God to make themselves atoning victims for the sins of others. Besides, it must not be forgotten that these practices went hand in hand with the cultivation of the sublimest virtues, that they were for the most part performed in secret, and in no case for ostentation and display. But e;cen if there was abuse, the Church is not responsible for the aberrations of individuals,, nor does her teaching become wrong if misunderstood or misapplied .The virtue of prudence is a part of asceticism." CANONICAL LEGISLATION CONCERNING RELIGIOUS The authorized English translation of that part of the Code of Canon Law which governs religious is now available in the United States under the title Canonical Legislation Concerning Religious. The booklet is published and dis-tributed by the Newman Press, Westminster, Maryland. (Pp. 74. Price: 75 cents [paper] .) 79 The I-lundredt:old Edward Stanton, S.J. 44~ND everyone who has left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and shall possess life everlasting" (Mr. 19:29). If this expression, "the hundred-fold," is read out of context, it can easily be misunderstood. Actually, in the earlier verses of this same chapter in Saint Matthew's Gospel we read that our Lord had offered "treasure in heaven" to the rich young man on condition that he would accept the invitation to "go sell what thou hast, and give to the poor . and come follow me": there also we read His comparison between a camel struggling through the eye of a needle a'nd a rich man squeezing through the gates of heaven. In the light of these two observations which Christ made on the hazards of wealth, it would seem quite inconsistent to have Him, in verse twenty-nine, speaking primarily of a return in kind of the very things He invited religious to renounce in order to imitate more closely His example of detachment, poverty, submission, and obedience. It may be helpful, then, to consider briefly what various Fathers of the Church and some modern exegetes have had to say about Christ's promise of the hundredfold as it applies to those who have answered His call to the cloister. Saint Jerome, whose opinion in interpreting the hundredfold Venerable Bede followed three centuries later, stresses spiritual goods almost to the exclusion of material pos-sessions. He speaks of peace of heart, joy, divine consolations, and other gifts and graces with which God comforts His servants and which He lavishes upon them. These gifts are the rich rewards of a life of consecration to God's service, "for they surpass all earthly goods and joys far more than a hundred exceeds unity." In much the same way, Saint Ambrose (In Ps. cxix) understands by the hun-dredfold God HimselL and consequently the whole world which is God's possession. To such as leave all things for God's sake God is father, mother, wife, brother, sister, and all things--"because," remarks the saint, "he who has left all things begins to possess God, and He is, as it were, the perfect reward of virtues, which isreckoned not by the enumeration of a hundredfold, but by the estimation of 80 THE HUNDREDFOI.D perfect virtue." He cites the example of the tribe of Levi which by God's command was deprived of its portion of the Holy Land. How-ever, the Lord Himself promised that He would be its portion and inheritance. And from this he concludes: "He who has God for his portion is the possessor of all nature. Instead of lands he is sufficient ¯ to himself, having good fruit, which cannot perish. Instead of hquses it is enough for him that there is the habitation of God, and the temple of God, than which nothing can be more precious. For what is more precious than God? That is the portion which no earthly inheritance can equal. What is more magnificent than the celestial host? What more blessed than divine possession?" Saint Augustine (Epist. 89, quaest. 4) declares: "The whole world is the riches of the faithful." And Saint Gregory (Horn. 18 in Ezecb.) writes in the same vein: "He shall receive a hundredfold becauke God shall take care that such a one shall rejoice far more in his poverty, or his renunciation of his goods for the love of Christ, than rich men rejoice in all their riches and advantages." Father Cornelius a Lapide, referring to a parallel passage in Saint Luke's Gospel, explains the hundredfold as "many times more." More recent commentators, such as Fathers C. L. Fillion. F.C. Ceulemans, J. M. Lagrange, and J. A. Petit, in their com-mentaries on these words of Christ, lay special emphasis on the spir-itual rewards of peace, joy, and consolation even in the midst of sufferings and persecutions. The words of Father Alfred Durand in the Verbum Salutis series are worth quoting: "The hundredfold will not be given without persecutions (Mk. 10:30) ; this is a new proof that in this present life it should be bestowed for a religious purpose and not for a purely earthly advantage. This is what Saint Paul (2 Cor. 6:10) has summed up in a wo~d, speaking of himseIf and of the other Apostles: 'as having nothing, yet possessing all things.' "It goes without saying that the promise of the hundredfold thus understood, comprises . a tacit condition: unless it pleases God to dispose otherwise and that in our personal interest. Is there any need to add that a means given by God for the temporal support of the "ministers of His word' should not be considered as an end in itself? That would no longer mean renouncement but a miserable calcula-tion. Moreover, the hundredfold does not mean wealth." The request the mother of the sons of Zebedee made of Christ: "Command that these my two sons may sit, one at thy right hand, and one at thy left hand, in thy kingdom"; the question the dis- .8l PRUDENCE--,/si NECESSARY VIRTUE ciples put to Christ after His resurrection: "Lord, wilt thou at this time restore the kingdom to Israel?"--and many similar statements in the New Testament appear to us today, to have sprung from a background of ignorance. We conclude immediately that the ones who made these requests had forgotten Christ's words: "The king-dom of God is within you," and again: "My kingdom is not of this world." Yet, are there not some religious who at some time .or other have sighed the lament o-f the disciples on the way to Emmaus: sperabarnus, "we were hoping"? Could it be that we were disap-pointedin our hopes because they were founded on our own fanciful dreams, rather than on the words of Christ? Of this we may be sure, that God, our "reward exceeding great," will infallibly make good His word that those who, in their zeal "for the better gifts," have left house, or brothers, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's" sake, shall receive a hundredfold, and shall possess life everlasting." Prudence--A Necessary Virtue Albert Muntscb, S.d. DO NOT the very nature of the religious calling and the many safeguards it offers its followers protect the latter from impru-dent ways and methods? Unfortunately, no. In religious life much is left to the good judgment of the individual, and he may easily adopt manners and fall into habits which do not harmonize with the high ideals of his profession. In other words, lack of pru-dence may vitiate well-formed plans and purposes, at least in their execution. Today, especially, when there are many occasions which bring religious persons into freer association with worldlings and worldly practices than was formerly the case, the virtue of prudence should accompany them like a guardian spirit. It is all well to say that new duties demand new methods of approach; but they do not call for laying aside the splendid poise and bearing, the recollection and exterior reserve that should always characterize the soul which has exchanged the trappings of the world for the livery of Christ. Those .who think they have larger privileges to imitate worldly 82 March, 19 4 9 PRUDENCE--A NECESSARY VIRTUE ways and to follow worldly patterns are precisely the ones who need most the protecting strength of Christian prudende. The world bestows an approving smile upon all who fall into its ways and fol-low its changing patterns; but in secret, it ridicules and condemns. Would that this were n~)t so. But the wise and thoughtfM, who hold fast to the way of the rule and regulations sanctiofied by higher wis-dom, need not be convinced by a telltale list of "the preceding proved by example." Prudence is an indispensable part of the armor of every religious. It is required in the classroom. The illustraiions and examples, the applications and iomparisons used to explain texts and principles need not be such as to suggest familiarity with the follies of the idle rich nor the pastimes of the degraded proletariate. No doubt, more than one Christian teacher has been savagely criticized in the home circle precisely for such lack of prudence in the classroom. Prudence is required in caring for the patient in the hospital. The inhibitory powers of tl~e sick and convalescent are often lowered, and they may unwisely and unfairly expect a degree of attention-- perhaps of affectionate care--which is not within the right of any religious to bestow. In such cases guidance by the spirit of the rule, if not by the letter, may be the best preservation from ugly conces-sions. The prudent religious will look at the crucifix in the sick room and will hear the voice of the Master counseIing conduct based on the fear of the Lord. "Blessed is he who offendeth not in speech." Prudence in con-versation with those not of the community, and especially with those not of the household of the faith, is a gift to be prized. Let Christ be our model both in what is to be said and, more especially, in what is to remain unsaid. In the recorded conversations of Christ you find no insinuation of base motives. Only a brave, fearless, outspoken denunciation of hypocrisy, sin, deceit, and hardheartedness; and then only when it was necessary and would prove beneficial to the offender or the bystander. And there is the important matter of friendship--both in and outside of the community. What is of God? What springs from the cravings of lower nature? Is the friendship founded on the real supernatural motive of charity? Would it be approved by Christ if He were present in person and you could lay the case before Him? Weighty questions these, whose answers entail a goodly amount of prudence, prudence based on Christian faith and charity. 83 ALBERT MUNTSCH Review for Religious There remains the vast field of personal attitudes, likes, dislikes, preferences. Is it wise to manifest them to one and all at the slightest provocation? Are others really interested to know of them or do they care to hear of them? Prudence cautions wise restraint. Some religious tell their hearers loudly: "I just hate such a thing and abominate such and such conduct!" Is this confession not apt to act as a boomerang which will bring sharp criticism for the uncalled for manifestation of your attitudes? St. Paul, in his ep!stle to the Ephesians, (chapter 6), describes what has come to be known as "The Christian Armor." This Chris-tian panoply includes the breastplate of justice', the shield of faith, and the helmet of salvation. But can we not say that the virtue of prudence is to guide every Christian in the use of these powerful spir-itual weapons? Prudence is one of the four cardinal virtues, which are defined as, "the four principal virtues upon which the rest of the moral virtues turn." A careful reading of the lives of the saints, as well as recollections of Catholic missionary activity in foreign lands, show how all-important is the virtue of prudence. It was at times the only guide to' success in the Christian warfare, andprepared the way for the entrance of the Gospel of Peace in foreign lands. Take the case of the famous Jesuit missionary Robert de Nobili (1577-1656). He labored in Madura, Mysore, and the Karnatic. In his day the system of caste was perhaps more rigorous than in our time. In order to gain over the Brahmins, he decided to follow some of their ~igorous modes of life. The cry arose that the missionary was adopting pagan customs, and that his example was apt to lead the native Christians astray. In the controversy which followed, one virtue was above all necessary. This was prudence. Should the mis-sionary discontinue his practice and so lose the golden opportunity to convert the higher caste Brahmins? Or should he consult the well'ire of the weaker brethren who would not be able to understand the meaning and motives of his procedure? Prudence justified him in continuing to adopt these foreign customs. He was later officially directed to cease these practices; but in the decision finally given, De Nobili was justified insofar as the customs which he upheld were distinctly cultural and had no necessary connection with worship of the Supreme Being. As stated in a preceding paragraph, the virtue of prudence is per-haps more necessary today when religious have so many opportunities 84 March, 1949 PRUDENCE--A NECESSARY VIRZFUE of coming in contact with people in the world. @he writer recalls a meeting of a scientific society several years ago when a member of a religious community arose several times to present some opinions on the questions under discussion. On one occasion especially this reli-gious embarrassed the audience by presenting views which apparently no one could follow and which seemed to be utterly wide of the mark. Finally, at the suggestion of one of the delegates, the religious ceased from further speaking. We leave it to the judgment of the reader to decide whether or not the virtue of prudence would have prevented this embarrassing incident. Is it not.significant in this connection to recall that one of the great saints of the New Testament--St. Joseph, the Head of the Holy Family--is referred to in liturgical hymns, as "'uir prudens et fidelis." Prudence guided him in his,first associations with the Mother.of God; and the Holy Scripture refers to his embarrassment so delicately, in a delicate situation. It was his prudence that directed him in such a way that won for him the approval of the evangelist. The three great model saints of Catholic youtb--Aloysius, Stanislaus, and John Berchmans--were each one distinguished in his own way for the prac-tice of Christian virtue. Yet each one of these distinguished members in Christ's army wa.s guided by that necessary virtue, prudence. If this virtue bad not been present, they might easily have become offensive to their fellow religious and might have failed to become models for youth in aftertimes, t3ut prudence kept them on a path which exemplified the highest type of spirituality and the greatest love of God, and yet made them dear to and worthy of imitation by those who saw their bright example. These are only a few simple thoughts on a virtue which is apt to be pushed aside like Cinderella in order to give scope to the practice of "heroic virtue." Heroic virtue--that is what we all need and desire-- is to be found in the daily practice of little duties in the spirit of faith, with eyes fixed on God, but above all in the spirit of sweet charity towards all of God's children. Let us then realize that this cardinal virtue is a most potent weapon for shielding us from many pitfalls and for aiding us to a higher degree of perfection in the life of religion. 85 Adapt:at:ion J. Creusen, S.J. Translated from the French by Cla.rence McAuliffe, S.J. [This article first appeared in Reuue des Communaut& Religieuses, XVIlI, 97. It is translated and printed here with the author's permission. The author, though a recognized expert on the religious life, would not want his suggestions to be taken as the last word on the subject of adaptation. Discussion of many of the points in the article, especially as they might apply to the United Sates, is desirable: and we shall welcome communications of this nature.--ED.] ADAPTisAa proTblemIOthatNbesets every age, but- it be- ~omes particularly pressing at times of rapid and,far-reaching social changes. That ours is such a time is beyond all question. When the religious life comes under scrutiny, the probl~m may be posed somewhat as follows: Is it expedient that religious life be adapted to the new circumstances of our times, or must novices and young religious adjust themselves to those demands that are looked upon as essential to genuine religious, life? In this article we intend to try to give the broad outlines of an answer to this extensive question. To adapt oneself means to conform one's life and conduct to a new set of circumstances. If a person travels from one climate to an entirely different one, he must adapt himself to the latter in matters of food, clothing, and work. He must in other words adjust his habits in such things to the requirements of heat and cold. A person must know how to adapt his ways of speaking, of teaching, of nursing the sick, and so forth to the diverse circumstances in which he is placed. Adaptation, therefore, involves change; but not from a mere desire for change in itself, or from fickleness, but from a desire to be able'to live or to act more profitably. Since surrounding circumstances do nor remain fixed, every living thing is compelled to make some adaptations. Just as winter imposes its own special demands, so also does summer. Once a being becomes incapable of adaptation, it is doomed to destruction. Acts that are devoid of adaptation are ineffectual and, as a consequence, usele.ss. Religious life, too, since it is a form of living and acting, cannot be an exception to this law. Apart from the basic applications of sovereign moral and ascetical principles, religious life imposes obliga-tions and norms of conduct that owe their rise to the exigencies or 86 ADAPTATION conditions of special circumstances or of a particular epoch. We need not dwell on this truth which is irrefutable and called into question by scarcely anybody. II The Church, while always remaining faithful to principle, pro-vides us with .striking examples of adaptation. She does not alter by one jot the dogmatic truths which Christ has entrusted to her. Truth does not change with the passage of time. It remains immutable, though the formulas expressing it may vary because of the evolution of human language. For this reason the Church does not alter her moral principles. She condemns contradictory heresies, not only those which unduly exalt human freedom or the worth of creatures, but those also which profess io deny the goodness of the divine work even in material creation. While proclaiming the superiority of per-fect chastit~ over conjugal chastity, she rejects the error of those who condemn marriage. While reminding us of the heroic mortifications practised by the saints, she does not prohibit or dissuade anyone from drinking wine temperately. Did not Christ choose wine as the mat-ter/ from which His greatest Sacrament would spring? ~ta The Church aiso keeps intact, insofar as possible, the fundamen-ls of her liturgy and even of her discipline. To maintain sacerdotal celibacy in the Latin Church, she has had to bear the brunt of recurring attacks. Even within recent memory Pope Benedict XV took occasion to declare that the Holy See would not relax her dis-cipline in this matter even though her failure to do so might prompt some priests to schism. Yet, only an'ecclesistical law is at stake, and its abrogation would imply no loss of essential doctrine. However, bowing to demands arising from circumstances of time and place, the Church does modify, either temporarily or perman-ently, certain disciplinary decrees even though they may date back to the very beginning of her history. Her legislation regarding fast and abstinence both during Lent and on Ember days, and particularly on vigils; has undergone remarkable relaxations. It should be noted, too, that some of these modifications even preceded the war of 1914-1918. Moreover, from the sixteenth to the nineteenth century the secluded or segregated aspect of religious life passed through a total transfor-mation. This was, so to speak, thrust upon the Holy See because many religious congregations had already contributed to it by the adaptations which they themselves had espoused. Again, within 87 J. CREUSEN Relaiew for Religious recent years we have witnessed a considerable extension of the liberty accorded to religious in the choice, at least periodically, of their con-fessors. The Holy See has regarded this as an inevitable consequence rio.wing from the abandonment of rigid seclusion, from a more pro-nounced awareness of freedom of conscience, and from'the new legis-lation about frequent Communion. The first decrees of Plus Xupon this last subject were greeted with vigorous opposition. But even though the highest superiors of some of the most distinguished orders remonstrated, they could not shake his resolve to grant this adapta-tion. Does not the Holy See guide us along the same road when it approves the most diversified forms of religious life? An enormous distance has been traveled from the day when Plus V wanted to oblige all religious to papal enclosure and solemn vows to the present time when approval is extended to religious societies whose members do not even live in community. On the other hand, the Church is prudent in her approach to such adaptations. She undertakes them gradually; she looks about for guarantees of their worth; she often delays until isolated experiments have demonstrated the harmlessness, the usefulness, and the need of the proposed change. Notice, too, how certain devotions, such as the devotion to the Sacred Heart, have passed through progressive stages of approbation. Again, are we not eyewitnesses of the transformation in some liturgi-cal practices? However, in matters liturgical, regardles~ of who may assert the contrary, the Holy See by no means allows priests, bereft as they are of all authority, to introduce changes as they please. Liturgi-cal practices emanate from the authority of the Holy See, which has reserved to itself exclusively the right to pass judgment on their pro-priety. Hence, without special authorization a priest may not cele-brate Mass while facing the congregation. It is no excuse to plead that such an adaptation is required by liturgical progress. III Objects of Adaptation 1. It is perfectly clear that no change can be made in the basic principles of the spiritual life which our Savior taught in His gospel. No matter what development of ideas or of customs may take place, self-abnegation and the way of the Cross will always remain the indispensable means of acquiring and fostering that perfect charity which unites us to God. To prove this we have at hand the explicit 88 March, 1949 ADAPTATION and unequivocal teaching of the gospels, the sum-total of tradition, the testimony and practice of all the saints. Against this solid truth, only specious arguments could be advanced. For instance, someone might contend that a person must necessarily revel in creatures in order to raise himself to God by their instrumentality. The genuine mystics, however, keep telling us that long and rigorous privation and self-denial are the gateway to contemplation and the fruition of God through the enjoyment of creatures. The religious spirit, diametrically opposed as it is to the spirit of the world, must be preserved. The new generation no less than the old must renounce the world--its ease, its dissipation, its spirit of independence and of criticism. The characteristic spirit of each insti-tute is also a treasure that should be jealously guarded. Is not this spirit the handiwork of divine grace operating in the souls of founders and foundresses? Moreover, the primary applications of general prin-ciples of Christian asceticism will remain unchanged or but slightly modified. For instance, certain safeguards of chastity, since they are required by the ingrained weakness of human nature, are always valid and are not out of step with variations in custom. Thus the practice of consulting a retreat director only in the confessional, or possibly in the parlor but not in his private room, will be maintained. Parlors where priests converse with religious women, whether young or old. should have doors panelled with glass. No need or legitimate reason exists for altering this usage. 2. Some adaptations are absolutel~t necessar~t. A. By reason of changes in ecclesiastical legislation. We have already mentioned the comparatively recent laws dealing with confessions of religious men and women. At first some supe-riors objected to these laws because they believed that this new lib-erty, unknown as it was to the earlier history of their institute, engendered a real danger. Today we can hope that such a state of mind has disappeared. The custom of exposing the Blessed Sacrament during Masses of some slightly greater solemnity than usual had ~o cease when the decree was issued allowing exposition only during Masses within the octave of the Feast of Corpus Christi and during the Forty Hours. Again, the Congregation of the Sacraments has very clearly expressed its desire that freedom to abstain from Holy Communion should be facilitated by every means in those communi-ties or social groups that receive Communion at a specified time. The habit of approaching the Holy Table in order of seniority, whether 89 J. CREUSEN Review for Religious of profession or of age, is certainly an obstacle to such freedom. Moreover, this ancient practice has been eliminated in some of the most famous orders. Communion is received without any regard for the position one occupies in the chapel or in the community. We have nothing but praise for this adaptation. It might even be con- , sidered as obligatory insofar as it can be done, because of the directives of the Sacred Congregation. B. By reason of the growth of the institute. When an institute spreads beyond the borders of its native coun-try and branches out into many foreign lands, the time has come when religious of other nationalities should be granted their rightful place in the government of the institute. This is particularly true when the foreigners outnumber members belonging to the native land of the founder or foundress. The foreigners, therefore, should be represented at general congregations or chapters. Just as the Holy Father chooses cardinals from all countries and from all nationalities, so should a general congregation be truly representative of the entire institute. This procedure, moreover, is necessary in order to forestall the temptation to separation from the institute. When religious bodies of men, and especially of women, find themselves systematically excluded from the government of their institute, they fall an easy prey to this temptation. Unfortunately, too, this temptation is often induced and kept alive by some of the local clergy who are anxious to exert a more direct and more extensive jurisdiction over the religious in their own country. The day may well come when thought must be give'n to forming a new province from a group of houses which have grown in number and importance. Similarly, the wisdom of suppressing a province must also be weighed when it has a dearth of members and cannot anticipate a fresh increase of novices for a long l~ime. If such a prov-ince is not suppressed, a general chapter will not have a jr/st propor-tion of representatives from various sections of the institute. As a result, certain groups get.the definite impression that they are gov-erned by superiors and chapters that ignore or neglect their own special interests. A more delicate question comes up, but we cannot waive it. Some institutes keep their communities stamped with a truly international character. In such cases it should not be surprising to find that the superiors of these communities are not citizens of the country where the house is established. O~her institutes, on the contrary, by reason 90 March, 19 4 9 ADAPTATION of the very necessities of their apostolate, must choose local superiors from persons who are either natives of the country or at least speak its language. It is easy enough to understand why authority should be exercised for a long time by superiors (we speak here particularly of communities of women) who are natives of the country in which the institute had its origin; but this state of affairs should not be pro-longed indefinitely. The time comes when it is fitting to appoint English or Irish superiors in England, American superiors in the United States, Belgians in Belgium, and so on. Omit this adaptation and the institute presents a foreign appearance in the country. This is damaging both to the recruiting of novices and to union of spirit. In addition, it furnishes the clergy of the land with a pretext or reason for inducing the native members to withdraw from their religious family and to found another of exactly the same kind, but one that is independent and better suited to the requirements of local conditions. On the other hand, the hearts of all become attached to the institute when confidence is reposed in those who are foreign to the country of its origin: C. By reason of the swift euolution of ideas and custbms. It is evident that the first condition for the proper direction of novices and young religious is to understand them. This supposes personal contact with, as well as experimental knowledge of, the external conditions in which they have been reared and educated. Sometimes masters and mistresses of novices, though quite elderly, understand modern youth perfectly because they have been in constant touch with it for many years. A true youthfulness of spirit results from this uninterrupted contact. However, when a successor has to be appointed to this office, it is important to select someone who is young enough to have retained memories dating from recent times and also youth's natural gift of facile adaptability. These qualities make it possible to understand the ideas, impressions, reactions, and mistakes of the young souls who are to be guided; and such understanding is a requisite condition for exercising 'influence and inspiring confidence. The same qualities should be found in prefects or directors of studies, and also in the superiors of certain houses. The physical condition of modern youth should enter into our consideration no less than its psychological dispositions. The war has radically affected the nervous systems of most young men and women who knock at the doors of our novitiates. This fact must be taken into account- seriously when matters concerning diet, length of 91 J. CREUSEN Review for Religious sleep, and the amount and kind of recreation are determined. When the garden is not sufficiently extensive, physical exercises can be very much in place.1 They afford relaxation from the overconstraint brought on by the religious habit, the practice of modesty, and a life that is too sedentary. In some countries it is perfectly circumspect for religious to enjoy the refreshment of a bath in a,swimming pool or in a pond located on the conveht grounds. In other countries, however, public opinion will hardly allow religious or clerics to swim even in a pool of their own. It is clear that public opinion must be reckoned with in this matter. D. B~] reason of special local circumstances. Most institutes having houses in hot climates have gradually adapted their religious garb to the climate so as not to wear out their subjects prematurely. Again, doctors scarcely allow religious nurses to enter the operating room unless their clothing is adapted to the functions to be performed there. Some cornets or headdresses have to be ruled out because they hinder freedom of bodily action too much. A white dress or apron will also have to be slipped over the religious habit. We need not insist on this because it causes no difficulty, and all institutes willingly consent to it. 3. Some adaptations though not necessary can be very suitable. Hence they are more or less important or urgent. The rational grounds underlying them resemble those we have mentioned above. A. The Liturgical Movement, for instance, will prompt the taking of a more intimate and active part while assisting at the Holy Sacrifice. All members of the community will be provided with a missal so that they can follow the prayers of the priest. On certain days, perhaps, the dialog Mass will be held. Some of the set prayers recited in common might be profitably replaced by others borrowed from the liturgy. One community, for example, has introduced the custom of reciting Compline as its evening prayer. B. Today quite a few candidates for religious life bring along a personal formation which their elders did not always have. This is explained by the modern abundance of spiritual literature, by more frequent confessions, and by more carefully organized closed retreats. Such candidates, of course, have new needs with regard to partictilar modes of the spiritual life. Would this not be a reason for doing lln the text Father Creusen seems to recommend calisthenics provided religious have not the facilities for other forms of exercises. His recommendation is hardly a sug-gestion to establish a regular regime of calisthenics, obligatory on alI.--ED. 92 March, 1949 ADAPTATION away with the custom, still widely in vogue, of reading the points of meditation every evening for the entire community? Would it not lead at least to the elimination of their rereading in the morning? Complaints about this matter are voiced quite often and they seem to be well-founded. After some time a suitably formed religious soul should be able to prepare for itself the matter of its prayer. It will feel drawn toward~ such or such a subject. Why compel such a one to listen in the morning to an entirely different kind of subject mat: ter? Sometimes even the manner of presentation does not correspond to the state of such a person's soul, to say nothing of its failure tO correspond to the mentality of the majority in the community. It is one thing to supply subject matter for morning prayer to novices for a time, or to provide the same help to the lay Sisters. It is quite a different thing to foist such subject matter' on persons who are already fuIIy formed both intellectually and spiritually. It would be absolutely intolerable, of course, for religious to lose their appreciation for the Rosary or for the beautiful invocations o~ litanies which are approved by the Holy See. But no need exists to' inspire a kind of distaste for these devotions by their overmultiplica-tion. It is hardly necessary to add that superiors should see with jealous care that fidelity is always maintained to the mental prayer prescribed by the constitutions. Sometimes, the length or number of vocal prayers recited in common infringes noticeably on the morning or evening meditation. C. Demands made b~t teachir~g. How many young religious men and women today must prepare for two, three, or four years to take examinations that require a considerableamount of knowledge as well as extensive laboratory exercises. The daily order should be adapted to this kind of work. To repeat certain courses intelligently or to put certain compositions in final form calls for. undisturbed and protor~ged study. Such students, therefore, should have at their disposal quite lengthy periods of study and should not be obliged to interrupt their study to attend to exercises of piety or manual labor. Some daily orders were formulated at a period when the preliminaries before class took practically no time or effort, especially after several years of prac-tical preparation. They are not at all suitable to present-day require-ments in the matter of study. The same holds true of preparation for examinations. Not forgetting, therefore, that some more elderly members may also be included in the dispensation, these young reli-gious will be dispensed from certain observances. Other members of 93 J. CREUSEN Reoieto for Religious the community who have more time either by reason of age or work, can continue to keep them. The Holy See sets the example here, for in the great monastic orders it allows exemption from choir to stu-dents of philosophy and theology. D. Technical progress. In a house of some size a house telephone system saves a considerable 'amount of time and eliminates many fatiguing trips and distractions. Telephones are p'erfectly in order in the rooms of the superior, the assistant, the treasurer, the prefects of study and of discipline, as well as in the kitchen, the infirmary, the tailor shop, and so on. How many runnings to and fro would be avoided, how many conversations shortened, what an asset for con-tinued and peaceful labor! An outside telephone evidently brings up different problems. Its use should not be permitted to the free choice of the members of the community. Simple prudence and sometimes the observance of poverty demand some limitations. Here again a wise adaptation is very much in place. The same should be said of the use of automobiles. A visitor was told in a kind of boasting way that in a house of studies there were at least fifteen typewriters. "How does it happen," he said, "that there are only fifteen? Each professor and most of the students should have their own typewriters." We submit this answer to the reflection of superiors. It is certain at any rate that a typewriter is no longer an object of luxury and can be strictly necessary for a teacher or a writer. Even the organization of work in some religious houses would profit much if it were inspired by the modern methods pursued in enterprises of considerable scope. An industrialist who had become a religious told us one time: "What an extravagance of personnel, what losses of time, what a lessening of the effectiveness of our work because we are not rationally organized." We might mention by way of example lack of adequate space, manual tasks imposed on eminent religious because they do not have secretaries to help them in their work, the lack of suitable instruments for work (furniture, index files, and so forth). E. The growth of the Institute brings up another very delic~ite question: Is it proper and, if so, when is it proper to transfer the gen-eral headquarters of the institute to Rome? To begin with, let us say that, although the Holy 'See wants to see a house of every institute at Rome, the Sacred Congregation does not urge all institutes to transfer the mother house there. When a mother house has been a cradle of 94 March, 19 4 9 ADAPTATION the institute; when it has been sanctified and made famous by the vir-tues and sometimes even the miracles of the founder or foundres~;' when most cherished memories are connected with it; we can readily understand that truly valid reasons are wanting for its removal. This is true even though one of the suggested reasons for removal is the advan'tage of baying the mother house in the center of Christianity. Proximity to the Vatican is not an indispensable condition for fos-teringdeep attachment to the Sovereign Pontiff and for acquiring a truly Catholic spirit. However, it can happen that the mother house by reason of the spread of the institute can lose its prestige in the minds of very many members; whereas the actual presence of the superior general's house in Rome certainIy lends to a congregation a mark of universalism and a feeling of union with the Holy See, both of which promote devotion in all members of the institute to those who govern it. Consequently 'it might be well to ask if such a project should not be submitted to the deliberations of a general chapter. IV How should the adaptation be carried out? 1. With prudence. To adapt means to change; and we know that changes do not always take place without shock. Sometimes they cause surprise. Oftentimes ~they inspire spirits of lesser con-stancy and prudence with a desire to introduce other changes which no good reason counsels or commands. Once a change is made it is often difficult, even impossible, to retrace one's steps. Hence a choice should be made in. the alterations to be introduced. Sometimes the unfavorable aspects of a change are perceived only after it has been made. This is an additional reason for seriously considering all possible consequences beforehand. A religious once suggested to his superior that a door be installed at a certain spot in the coiridor. The superior answered: "My dear father, in such and such a year a door was put there; some time later, another superior had it taken out. Later on it was replaced, and then it vanished again. Don't you think it is better to leave things as they are?" Hence counsel should be sought, but not solely from those who are so set in their ways that they cannot imagine or accept any change. It will be helpful to get information .from religious men or women of other institutes. What works well in one institute of the same kind may prove advantageous and beneficial in similar circum- 95 BOOK REVIEWS Review For Religious stances. When feasible, an experiment should be made without offering the change as permanent. 2. With decision. Prudence does not require an indefinite delay before introducing beneficial or necessary changes. Such delay easily engenders restlessness and regrettable criticism. Once the utility or the need of a change has been recognized, it should be introduced with-out complaints, without laments over the evils of the time, without harking back continually to the advantages of the former system. Such a policy might disco.urage souls of good will, or embitter those less favorably disposed. Above all the principle, "That was never done before and things went along all right" should be avoided. Such reasoning simply and categorically closes the door to all progress. Dis-tinction must be made between healthy tradition, custom, and row. line. The first is, generally spea.king, to be kept; the second can and sometimes should be changed: the third should be unequivocally condemned. ook Reviews THE LORD'S SERMON ON THE MOUNT. By St. Augustine. Translafed from the Latin by John J. Jepspn, S.S. Pp. v~ -f- 227. The Newman Press, Wes÷mlns÷er, Maryland, 1948. $2.75. The editors of "The Ancient Christian Writers" seri?s, Dr. Jo-hannes Quasten and Dr. Joseph Plumpe of Catholic University, have again succeeded magnificently in presenting to the English-speaking world an excellent translation of an important work of. Augustine. The entire work is a pithy, thorough analysis of the most challenging of all messages, the Sermon on the Mount, the party platform of Christianity. The work is divided into two books. Book One delves into the meaning of the sermon. Book Two establishes the truth that it is humanly possible to put the Sermon on the Mount into practice, that this sermon is not a moral code for a select few but a perfect pat-tern of Christian living, that it does not contain only counsels for a better class of Christians but rather also for every follower of Christ. The intimate relation between ethics and religion as it appears in this sermon intrigued the great mind of Augustine, and he set himself 96 March, 1949 BOOK REVIEWS to explore this relationship. As a result, in this volume we meet Augustine the moral theologian rather than Augustine the- dogmatic theologian, the ethics master rather than the metaphysician. As a result too, the book is easier to understand, more pleasant, even more devotional at times, as compared with his heavier dogmatic works. The cases handled and the learned discussions concerning them prove Augustine to be the greatest exponent of moral theology in Christian antiquity. In this work he 'made an impoftant contribution both to the science of ethics in general and to that of moral theology in particular. Several of Augustine's comparisons make for instructive and pro-vocative reading. He compares the Beatitudes with the Gifts of the Holy Ghost; and be concludes his book by comparing them to the seven petitions of the Our Father, saying that the first seven Beati-tudes are stages of grace that correspond to the seven petitions of the Our Father as they ask for the coming of the Kingdom of God. The treatment of the Our Father has excellent material for prayerful reflec-tion. One final asset of the book is the copious notes that clarify difficult passages and correct dubious solutions.--V. P. MICELI, S.J. YOU CAN CHANGE THE WORLD! The Chris÷opher Approach. By James Keller, M.M. Pp. xlx q- 387. Longmans Green and Co., Inc., New York, 1948. $3.00. The opening message of this book is that "the United States is being effectively undermined by less than one percent of the people of our country," who are fired by "a militant hatred for the basic truths upon which this nation is founded," and. who, in order to poison the minds of many, "make it their business to get into one of the four in-fluential spheres of activity which touch and sway the majority of the people." The challenge that immediately follows this message is that an equal number of people, fired by a love of Christian principles, desirous of enlightening the minds of the many, can enter the same influential spheres and save the country. And, since this parallel can be extended from country to country, the Christ-bearers (Christo-phers) can save the world. This, however, is only a part of the chal-lenge, for the emphasis of this whole Christopher movement is on the you (singular) ; and it says to every Christ-bearer, "'You can save the world." I will not attempt to give a complete outline or criticism of Father Keller's book. As a matter of fact, it is not a book in the ordinary 97 ]~OOK REVIEWS Reoiew for Religious sense; and anyone who wishes to read it as a book will very probably punish his-head mercilessly. It is a manual, a detailed plan of action covering the four major spheres of influence--education, government, labor-management, and writing--in which every individual who at least believes in God and in the fundamental moral truths can help to counteract the anti-God campaign that is now wrecking the country and the world. It does not stop, however, at these major spheres. It goes into the library, into business, onto the campus, and into the heart to convince every individual of good will that be can do some-thing and to point the way to do it. Because of this extensive scope and the multiple suggestions contained under each head, You Can Change the World is intended more for piecemeal pondering accbrding to one's own circumstances than for reading straight through. A large percentage of our readers can use Father Keller's book very effectively. It could make a fine basis for a discussion of various apostolic works; also for a consideration of various avocations (~nd sometimes of vocations). _And I might add that one can hardly read the opening chapters without being urged to pray for the world, and particularly for the Communists. One reader of the book said that he had not finished five pages before it suddenly came home to him that it would be better to pray for the Communists than against them. If Father Keller accomplished nothing more than to throw emphasis on conversion rather than destruction, on love rather than hate, his book and the whole Christopher movement would be more than justified. In one respect this book treads on what I might term "theological thin ice." Father Keller's message is addressed to all men who hold to the moral fundamentals, irrespective of their religious affiliations, and he encourages all to communicate what truth they have to others. This is a dangerous message and it must be phrased skillfully. The appeal to all men independently of religious attachments can readily connote-religious indifferentism; and the charge to spread what truth they have can lead to communicating the errors woven into the parr tial truths. On the first stretch of thin ice (the appeal to all men of good will) Father Keller is in the very safe company of Plus XII. The second stretch is more dangerous; yet it seems better to risk a plunge into the cold waters of misinterpretation by a positive and encouraging approach to those outside the Faith than to remain (freezing, more or less) in the so-called safety zone of negativism. As a matter of fact, my general impression is that Father Keller crosses 98 March, 1949 BOOK NOTICES even this very perilous patch with remarkable skill and courage. He makes it perfectly clear that his book and the Christopher movement are under Catholic auspices: he does not water down the fact that only Catholics possess the fullness of God's truth; and, in drawing up a minimum plan for the spiritual life of a Christopher, he wisely lim-its his suggestions to Catbolics.---G. KELLY, S.J. BOOK NATURAL AND SUPERNATURAL WEDLOCK, A LENTEN COURSE OF SEVEN SERMONS, by the Reverend Clement H. Crock, includes the best ideas from many sermons on marriage prepared by the author over a long period of years. Compiled in response to requests of bishops and priests for a series of concise, up-to-date Lenten sermons on matrimony, couched in simple, straightforward language, and pleasantly sprinkled with an abundance of apt illustrative examples, these seven sermons drive home .the fundamental doctrine which should be known by those already married and those preparing for marriage. They are easily adaptable for long or short sermons, and should prove very useful for all preachers. (New York City: Joseph F. Wagner, Inc., I948. Pp. 64.) THE JOY OF SERVING GOD by Dom Basil Hemphill, O.S.B.,con-talus twenty chapters, eacl4 of which deals with some important vir-tue or practice of the religious or priestly life. As usually happens, these time-honored subjects, such as humility, charity, spiritual reading, suffering, obedience, silence, detachment, derive new fresh-ness from their treatment by another personality. The book, there-fore, is worth adding to the community library. It is hard to see. why the author omits chapters on the vows of poverty and chastity since they are basic elements of the religious life. A few inaccuracies mar the book. For instance, very few theologians would want to defend this sentence: "All the venial sins of our past life for which we are sorry are forgiven by every absolution, whether they have been mentioned or not" (p. 162). Neither is it correct to say that one of the constitutive elements of the sacrament of penance is the "performing our penance" (p. 157). The meaning of the "imprimatur" on a book is not expressed clearly enough (p. 170). It is also surprising to find silence described as the "twin" of obedience 99 BOOK NOTICES Reoiew for Religious (p. 15). It is rather an atmosphere in which all virtues flourish. But despite these flaws, which after all take up but a few lines of the vol-ume, the book by its simplicity of style and general soundness will provide enlightenment and inspiration for many. (St. Louis, Mis-souri: B. Herder Book Company, 1948. Pp. x + 194. $2.50.) As its title indicates, OUR LADY'S DIGEST contains Marian articles chosen from Catholic magazines and books. It follows the familiar pattern of the Catholic Digest and other similar magazines, differing from them only in subject matter. The articles are frequently very good; but the stories, which are few in number, are with some excep-tions below average in literary quality as are also the poems. The various issues to date (the magazine has been in publication for almost three years) are uneven in quality, but in general are im-proving. With good editing the publication should develop into a very valuable and interesting magazine. (Olivet, Illinois. 11 issues per year. $2.00.) OUR LADY'S HOURS, by Mary Ryan, discusses the meaning and the beauty of the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. This discussion is preceded by two chapters on "Liturgical Prayer" and "The Divine Office." The book should be of great value to Sisters and others who say the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Book shop, 1948. Pp. xv + 195. $2.50.) THE IMITATION OF MARY contains brief chapters with Marian thoughts selected from the writings of Thomas ~ Kempis and edited by Dr. Albin de Cigala. Each "thought" is followed by applications made by the compiler. The book does not approach the appeal of The Imitation of Christ, but it contains a fair number of interesting thoughts. The attempt to arrange the material to fit the fifteen mys-teries of the Rosary is not successful. The work was translated from the original French by a Dominican Sister. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Press, 1948. Pp. 114. $1.00 [paper] : $2.25 [cloth].) RELIGIOUS TEACHING OF YOUNG CHILDREN, by S.N.D., has four parts. The first is historical and highlights the chief events in Our Lord's life. The second is doctrinal, corresponding roughly to the Creed. The third and fourth parts deal with the child's first steps to God: prayer, confession, and Communion. The narratives and instructions are simple and adapted to the tiny capacity of the very young. Religion is presented, not so much as a stern Creed, Code, 100 March, 1949 BOOK NOTICES and Cult but as an attractive and lovable person whom the child is drawn to follow. The copious suggestions and devices after each les-son are practical aids to help the child live, love, and serve Christ, his best Friend, twenty-four hours every day--on Monday as well as on Sunday. Parents and teachers will discover in this charming book the secret of that most difficult of arts--introducing a child to the Lover of little children. (Westminster, Maryland: The Newman Bookshop, 1947. Pp. 173. $2.25.) BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS. [We have been receiving more books than we can possibly review. Because of this we must make a decided change in our policy. In future we shall list each book received and shall in most cases include a brief descriptive notice of the contents, in so far as this can be estimated from a glance at tbe book, the jacket, and the pub-lisher's announcement. This is the most that we can guarantee for any book. Some books, of course, will be reviewed later or will be given a more complete and critical notice. We can make no guarantee at all for booklets and pamphlets. The list of books announced here supplements the list included in our January number, p. 56. This list, together with the reviews and notices published in this issue, is a complete acknowledgement of all books received up to February 10, 1949, and not previously reviewed.] BENZIGER BROTHERS, INC., 26 Park Place, New York 7, N. Y. Our Lady of Fatima, Queen of Peace. By Joseph Delabays; translated by John H. Askin. Pp. xv + 197. $2.75, A fairly full history of the Fatima story, fol-lowed by nearly fifty pages of prayers to Mary, Five illustrations. BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, 540 N. Milwaukee St., Milwaukee I, Wis. Vade Mecum for Teachers of Religion. By Sister M. Catherine Frederic, O.S.F. Edited by the Rt. Roy. William F. Lawlor. Pp. xvi -'k 344. $4.00. A grade school teacher's reference book containing material on the liturgy, the Mass, a glos-sary of ecclesiastical terms and abbreviations, and brief lives of class patron saints recommended for study. The Watch. By the Most Rev. Alfred A. Sinnott, D,D., Archbishop of Winni-peg. Pp. vii -5 155. 1947. $2.50. Contains fourteen Holy Hours for use each month of the year, for Holy Thursday, and for Forty Hours. CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, Washington,-D.C. The Provincial Religious Superior. By Rom~eus W. O'Brien, O.Carm. Pp. x q- 294. Adissertation on the rights and duties of provincials in religious orders of men. EVANS-WINTER-HEBB, INC., Detroit, Mich. No Greater Service. By Sister M. Rosalita, I.H.M. Pp. xx q- 863. The history of the Congregation of the Sisters, Servants of the Immaculate Heart of Mary, Mon-roe, Michigan, (1845- 1945), with a foreword by His Eminence, Edward Cardinal Mooney. Achievement of a Century. By the same author. Pp. xiii -Jr 299. An account of the mother house and missions of the congregation. Both volumes pro-fusely illustrated. $15.00 for both volumes. Order From: Publications Office, Saint Mary's, Monroe, Michigan. FATHERS OF THE SACRED HEARTS, 4930 South Dakota Ave., N.E., Washington 17, D.C. 101 BOOK NOTICES Review For Religious Father Damien: Apostle of the Lepers. By the Most Reverend Amleto Giovanni Cicognani. Pp. 47. $.50 (paper). THE GRAIL, St. Meinrad, Indiana. As Others See Us. By Henry Brenner, O.S.B. Pp. 117. $1.25. Presents the Sacred Humanity of Christ as the mirror in which we may see ourselves. The Mass Year. By Placidus Kempf, O.S.B. Pp. 124. $.30. A daily Mass guide for 1949 with liturgical reflections on some of the SeCrets. The Virgin's Land. By the Young .Monks of St. Meinrad's Abbey. Pp. 97. $.50 (paper). B. HERDER BOOK COMPANY, 17 South Broadway, St. Louis 2, Mo. Where We Got the Bible. By th," Rt. Rev. Henry G. Graham. Pp. xii q- 166. Paper. $1.00. Tells how the Catholic Church preserved the Bible. A reprint of a work that has not been available for several years. Meditations For Evergman. By Joseph McSorley, C.S.P. Volume II. Contains. meditations for each day of the liturgical year from Pentecost to Advent; also a handy index of the Scripture texts on which the meditations are based. Pp. vi 211. $2.75. Dante Theologian, A translation of and commentary on The Divine Comedy, by the Rev. Patrick Cummins, O.S.B. Contains an English version of the encyclical on Dante, the text of The Divine Comedy, commentaries, and a dictionary of proper names. Pp. 604. $6.00. The Three Ages of the Interior Life. Volume II. By the Rev. R. Garrigou- Lagrange, O.P. Translated by Sister M. Timothea Doyle, O.P. Pp. xiv -[- 668. $7.50. The present volume discusses the illuminative and the unitive ways and extraordinary graces. Second Latin. By Cora Carroll Scanlon and Charles L. Scanlon. Pp. vi -1- 270. ' $3.50. Intended for students who can devote only two years to the study of Latin and who must be prepared to read Latin textbooks of philosophy, theology, and canon law. The Well of Living Waters. By. Pascal P. Parente. Pp. viii -t- 335. $3.50. Excerpts on spiritual topics from the Bible, the Fathers, and the masters of the spiritual life. P. J. KENEDY ~ SONS, 12 Barclay Street, New York 8, N. Y. Another Tu2o Hundred Sermon Notes. By the Rev. F. H. Drinkwater. Pp. ~ii -t- 210. $4,25. Provides from two to five outlines for each Sunday of the year, as well as a choice of themeS, for a large number of feasts and occasions when a pul-pit talk is in order. L'IMMACULI~E-CONCEPTION, 1844 est, rue Rachel, Montreal (34), Canada. Lumiire et Sagesse. By Lucien Roy, S.J. Pp. 301. A study of mystical grace according to the theology of St. Thomas. LONGMANS, GREEN AND CO., INC., 55 Fifth Ave., New York, N. Y. You Can Change the World. By James.Keller, M.M. Pp. xix -b" 387. This is the story of "The Christopher Approach"-~of how the ordinary man can do a great job ifi changing the world for the better. $3,00. Transformation in Christ. By Dietrich yon Hildebrand. Pp. ix -b 406. $4.50. The theme of the book is the operation of the supernatural life in the sphere of personal morality. Lord, Teach us to Pratl. By Paul Claudel. Translated b~" Ruth Bethell. Pp. 95. $2.00. De La Salle: A Pioneer of Modern Education. By W, J. Battersby, Foreword by A. C. F. Beales. Pp. xix + 236. $3.50. 102 March, 1949 BOOK NOTICES Sermons and Discourses: (1825-39). Pp. xviii q- 348. $3.50. --- Sermons and Discourses: (1839-57). Pp. xvli-b- 382, $3,50,--Two more volumes of the new series of the works of John Henry Cardinal Newman. Edited by Charles Frederick Harrold. 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Pp. ix + 125. $1.50. Each of the thirty-o.ne short considerations consists of a quotation from some book about 104 March, 19 4 9 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Mary, some thoughts about the event in her llfe, followed by a moral application to the reader's llfe, concluded with a prayer to Mary, and an appropriate poem. RADIO REPLIES PRESS, St. Paul I, Minn. The Singing Heart. By Rev. Lawrence G. Lovasik, S.V.D. P. 144. Sto~y of girl named Antoinette Marie Kuhn. ROSARY COLLEGE (Department of Library Science), River Forest, Ill. The Catholic Booklist: 1948. Pp. 110. $.60. The Catholic Booklist: 1949. Pp. 86. $.65 (paper). ST. ANTHONY GUILD PRESS, Paterson, New Jersey. The Book of Genesis. The first of a new set of translations of the Old Testa-ment. Work is done by scholars of the Catholic Biblical Association and is spon-sored by the Episcopal Committee of the Confraternity of Christian Doctrine. Pp. vi + 130. THE SENTINEL PRESS, 194 E. 76th St., New York 21, N. Y. 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Issue 29.6 of the Review for Religious, 1970. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Diederich, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITOR John L. Treloar, S.J. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS EDITOR Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Correspondence with the editor, the associate editors, and the assistant editor, as well as books for review, should be sent to Rxvmw Fog R~LmtOUS; 6x2 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63xo3. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. .Joseph's Church; 32~ Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Lores, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright © 1970 by REVIEW SOR REI, mtOUS. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.25. Sub-scription U.S.A. and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years; other countries: $7.00 a year, $13.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order paya-ble to REvmw sort RELmmUS in U.S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REvmw sog RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW sort RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box l 110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW sog RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. NOVEMBER 1970 VOLUME 29 NUMBER 6 RICHARD P. VAUGHAN, s.J. Spiritual Counseling and Pra er. Fostering an ever deepening relationship with God, the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit constitutes a major objective of the religious life. Traditionally the road to such a relationship has been a formal schedule of prayer. The daily horarium of spiritual exercises has been an essential part of almost every congregation's rule or con-stitutions. During the past decade styles of religious life and prayer have undergone change, especially among younger religious. Emphasis on the relationship with God remains, but the way of achieving this relationship and what it means differ. The new religious is more aware of what he is before God and before others. He is more aware of the Spirit working in the secular world; he recognizes God in himself, in the persons and events of his daily life. He encounters Christ in his contacts with others. Formal prayer, such as meditation, recitation of the Office and rosary, seem less impor.tant to him. In some instances, they have been abandoned in favor of a fre-quently renewed commitment. Flexibility. in Prayer In response to changing attitudes, many congregations have started to experiment with more flexible approaches to prayer. Freedom, previously unheard of, has been ÷ granted. Set periods of obligatory prayer have given way ÷ to approaches geared to unique personalities and temper- ÷ aments and to the dem~inds of a particular apostolate. This change has let a breath of fresh air into many communities, but at the same time it has created a vac-uum. Formal scheduled prayer, while it can and has helped individuals to grow in the likeness of Christ, is subject to the danger of routinism. It is relatively easy for a religious to deceive himself into believing that he is growing in the spiritual life because he spends the time at prayer required by rule, whereas little true prayer is ac- 803 Richard Vaughan, S.J.; P.O. BOX 519; Los Gatos, California 95030; is Provincial for Edu-cation of the Cali-fornia Jesuits . VOLUME 29, 1970 .÷ R. P. Va~ghan, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 804 tually taking place. Some religious have been content to spend the assigned time at daily meditation, Office, or rosary, even though little recognizable benefit resulted, simply because the rule prescribed it. Young religious have come to question such a view. The focus of their religious life is more on the frequently renewed dedica-tion. However, just as the traditional emphasis has its limitations, so too does the recent approach. A spiritual life placing heavy emphasis on seeing God in the world of people and events can gradually give way to a human-ism in which one is no longer actively aware of God and centers rather on the purely human with a subsequent loss of the original commitment. Value of Spiritual Counseling Regular spiritual counseling can counteract this dan-ger, inasmuch as it requires the counselee to face honestly and openly his continuing commitment to the service of God and neighbor and, it might be added, to see the need for some form of regular prayer if an active awareness of God's presence is to continue. The process of spiritual counseling differs radically from psychological counseling and psychotherapy. The latter two are concerned with changes in personality and the reversal of symptoms resulting from the application of psychological techniques, whereas spiritual counseling focuses on the person's life with God. The spiritual coun-selor attempts to help the individual become more aware of his religious experiences. Basically he is trying to assist the counselee in discerning the workings of the spirit, so that he can determine what is the will of God for him in concrete situations. It is true that emotional disorders and faulty attitudes injure this discernment, but chang-ing these personality characteristics is not the spiritual counselor's proper function. Recognizing them, however, and the part they play in blocking discernment is. When personality characteristics are such as to handicap seri-ously any true discernment, then it is the responsibility of the spiritual counselor to direct the religious to a compe-tent professional so that these limitations can be reme-died. Spii'itual counseling serves a number of important functions. First of all, it allows us to have a better under-standing of the nature and quality of our relationship ,with God. It makes us actively aware of our daily reli-gious experiences. In our routine-ridden world, it is very easy to put aside a certain amount of time for prayer but seldom reflect on the efficacy and effectiveness of this prayer. We are apt to gloss over the question: Is my prayer truly prayer? Moreover, spiritual counseling makes us clarify and sharpen our thoughts and feelings about religious experiences in a way we would never do if we settled for a few minutes of self-reflection. When I must explain these experiences to another, I am forced to scrutinize them and then describe them in clear, accurate terms intelligible to my listener, As I talk about such things as the place of Christ in my life, God as a loving Father, prayer, the manifestation of grace, the working of the Holy Spirit, or God's will, I gradually sort out the genuine from the false, and the important from the un-important. I become aware of my openness or.my lack of openness to God. I become aware of the many ways that God is operating in my life--either directly or indirectly. I experience a deeper appreciation for God-'s manifesta- .tions. On the other hand I may well see that a wall seems to exist between God and myself. I may come to the conclusion that I have closed myself off from or denied many of God's manifestations. I may see that I have rejected important graces and c6ncerned myself exces-sively with my own world. If left to myself, it is less likely that I would come to realize my own selfishness and. lack of concern for God and neighbor. Listening Spiritual counseling involves three phases: listening, dialogue, and decision. Listening is an activity .of both the counselee and the .counselor. Even though the coun-selee may never reflect upon the fact, he listens to himself and to the promptings of divine grace within himself. As he talks he becomes aware of God working in and through him. Moreover, it is assumed that previous to the coun-seling session he has listened to God speaking, especially at times of.prayer. These promptings of grace become the subject of discussion. It should be noted that God speaks in many ways: directly through His Spirit, through reve-lation, through others, and through the events 6f everyday life. One 6f the goals of counseling is to determine when God speaks as opposed to the promptings of our sinful nature. Listening is also the work of an effective counselor. It is sometimes falsely considered "lending an ear." If one is present and aware of what is being said, he is thought to be listening. The truth of the matter is that listening is a very active process requiring much concentration and ex-penditure of energy. It demands that the counselor try to be aware of what is taking place within the counselee at each moment he is with him. It also demands that the counselor recognize the various levels of functioning, such as the spiritual, the cognitive, the conative, and the affective, as well as the relationship and integration, or lack of integration, of all of these functions. For instance, the good listener is one who is perceptive enough to see ÷ ÷ ÷ Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 805 ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, S.]. REVIEW "FOR RELIGIOUS 806 when emotions have taken over to the detriment of the Spirit or when habitual attitudes block thoughtful reflec-tion. The good listener hears not only the words but the way the words are expressed. He notes the tone of voice as well as the mode of expression; from these he is able to estimate the emotional involvement. The spiritual coun-selor as listener concentrates on any indication of the Spirit working within the counselee. He notes blocks or hindrances to the promptings of grace. At times, he sees that the counselee has a need to unlSurden himself before he can become aware of God's presence in his life. The counselor listens with empathetic concern. He attempts to discover what God means to the connselee, his reli-gious experiences, the depths of his faith, and his atti-tudes. Frequently all of these can be learned by active and attentive listening with little need for probing or questioning. Before the counselor enters the second phase, namely, the dialogue, he makes sure that he has at least an adequate estimate of the counselee's spiritual state. Dialogue The second phase, the dialogue, presupposes a rapport which allows the counselee to talk freely about his reli-gious experiences. Concerned listening often brings this about, inasmuch as it produces a feeling of acceptance, which permits the counselee to express freely his views without [ear of rejection. A dialogue is a conversation in which two persons reason on a topic, exchanging ideas and opinions. They examine the evidence for and against an action or a position. The initial stance is one of open-ness to all possibilities. When the term is used in relation to spiritual counseling, it implies that the counselor and the counselee examine the latter's spiritual condition, re-flecting upon its state. I[ all is well, they evaluate the signs indicating that the individual is following God's will. If there is a problem, they weigh together possible solutions, considering arguments for and against each. During the first phase the counselee describes his spirit-ual condition, which then becomes the topic of discussion during the second phase. The counselor helps the counse-lee enumerate arguments favorable to and opposed to a particular stance; he helps him evaluate the relative mer-its of each. He assists him to see when and how the Spirit is working in concrete situations. He also helps him to-ward a greater awareness of God's presence. Counseling is a learning situation. It is a time when an individual learns more about himself. Often this is accomplished without giving advice or direction. As the counselee talks about his relationship with God and neighbor, he be-comes more aware of divine intervention in the world of grace. He begins to see on his own what changes should be made and what he should do to bring about improve-ment. However, there is still a place for direction and guidance, especially in counseling younger members of a community. For instance, if a religious has never learned to pray properly, the counseling session c,'in afford an opportunity to teach the fundamentals, followed b3) a period of testing and reassessment. It can also be the occasion for presenting the traditions of a community, a time when the religious can consider whether he is fol-lowing these traditions or whether he really wishes to do so. Whether one makes use of advice and. guidance de-pends upon the needs of the individual counselee. It is the task of the counselor to determine these needs and then proceed accordingly. Decision-making At times, decision-making is part of the counseling process. Frequently, however, the purpose of counseling is simply to help an individual come to a greater aware-ness of God's manifestations and to a better understand-ing how he is or is not following God's will. When there is a need to make a decision, it is hoped that the counsel-ing will result in the counselee arriving at a decision on his own. The function of the counselor is to see that the counselee confronts all the options and weighs their rela-tive merits. Rarely should the counselor force a final deci-sion based on his own evaluation of the situation. If the counseling is truly counseling, most counselees can arrive at a decision without undue influence on the part of the counselor. An inability to do so may signify some kind of a psychological problem. dttributes of the Counselor Who can counsel? What should be the characteristics and abilities of the spiritual counselor? First and fore-most, he or she should be a person of faith, aware of the world of grace and the divine manifestations; one who has personally experienced the presence of God in his own life. He should be a person who can and does love both himself and others. He should be perceptive, with the ability to see below the surface and recognize the depths of personality and spiritual growth. He should also be able to communicate well his thoughts and im-pressions. To be effective, he or she will need adequate training in the theology of the spiritual life and, hope-fully, will have previously sought out a spiritual counse-lor for himself or herself. Psychological training can be helpful inasmuch as it offers some procedures directly or indirectly applicable to spiritual counseling. It should be noted, however, that it Counseling and Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 807 can also be a handicap if the counselor, as a result of his training, centers most of his attention on personal prob-lems to the neglect of the spiritual. If young religious are to develop a full spiritual li~e, and if older members are to realize the renewal urged by Vatican II, there is a need for an abundance of spiritual counselors--at least one or two for every large commun-ity, It is quite evident there are too few priests with available time. The most logical solution is for congrega-tions to train the members of their own communities as spiritual counselors. They could select those best suited by previous training, experience, and personality, and assign them to this important task. Many orders or con-gregations of men have already inaugurated such a pol-icy, but they find it impossible to supply priests who can devote themselves fully to the counseling of religious women. Conclusion A perusal of the early history of the religious life re-veals a minimum of structure with a great emphasis on regular spiritual direction. Due to the constant effort of a spiritual counselor each monk grew at his own rate in the likeness of Christ. As members increased individual coun-seling became more difficult and was gradually replaced by the ordered daily horarium of spiritual exercises, the goal of both being the deepening of the monk's relation-ship with God. If contemporary religious congregations are to realize the inner renewal sought by Vatican II, they would do well to consider a return to a style of religious life grounded in regularspiritual counseling. ÷ ÷ R. P. Vaughan, REVIEW FOR R~LIGIOU$ SISTER KRISTIN SHRADER, R.S.M. Prayer Is Listening Several years, ago, Karl Rahner began speaking of the "Church of the Diaspora," the Church which had come of age, which had forsaken the trappings of bourgeois collectivism, which had become the standard, of a commit-ted few. If the diaspora has characterized Chrigtianity, it seems even more so to be characterizing contempoi:ary religious" life. The wane of numerical strength has made it clear that convents and seminaries are in the throes of a crisis of vocation and a crisis of belie[. It is within the context of religiotis life in the Church of the diaspora that I would like to discuss the question of contemplative prayer. Our age, engulfed in a deluge of media and messages, has been characterized as one which "has lost the apti-tude for prayer.'.' 1 If prayer is listening not only to the Spirit as He works in our hearts but as He works in the world around us, then perhaps our age has also lost the aptitude' for listening. Perhaps we are deaf to'entire re-gions of ourselves and our world. I shall try to describe these hidden domains, and, in the process, try to l~rovoke us to hear what we have not heard before. Perhaps we are deaf to that part of ourselves and our world which is beyond that which merely performs "actions. This is the self and the world which do not act, but which are the mirrors in which God acts so as to let Himself be known. This is not the self-made self and not the man-made world, but is that which is passive, which is fashioned and illuminated by God. How are we in the last third of the twentieth century to find a new way to pray, a new way to listen? I suggest that we look at our unhearing selves in terms of two new images: that of pilgrim and that of prophet, instead of in terms of the image of professional or of achiever. This means that to listen, to pray, we must not do, achieve, or accomplish anything as the world accomplishes things, but rather that we must learn to listen by holding our- I Wino~ de Broucher, S.J., "Mortification in Prayer," Cross and Crown, March 1963, p. 13. 4- Sister Kristin writes from Lewis Hall (Box 219); University o[ Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. VOLUME 29, 1970 809 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Kristir~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 810 selves in readiness for something, or rather for someone. This patient readiness is what I think Karl Rahner was describing when he spoke of prayer as "this awful waiting." 2 It is what Augustine meant when he said that the continual desire for God is prayer. I can neither explain nor understand prayer. Perhaps no one can: "There are thresholds which thought alone, left to itself, can never permit us to cross. An experience is required--an experience of poverty and sickness" 3 or, perhaps, of love or of sacrifice. By attempting to describe something, prayer, which I cannot explain, perhaps I can, though, suggest how we "listen." Merton suggests the form that such a preparation for prayer might take: (1) detachment and (2) finding ideas about God in all we do.4 His second suggestion corresponds to what I will describe as living as a prophet, as one who sees the signs of God in all things. His first suggestion, detachment, corresponds to what I have called living as pilgrim, as one who can look inside himself to see that he desires God and God alone, and that this world is b/at one stage of his Godward development. Amid the dissonance of the desires of this world, the pilgrim alone truly knows how to listen. He knows that this world is not his home, that he is journeying to God, and that this very journey is what we call prayer. As Merton says: "The secret of prayer is a hunger for God and for the vision of God, a hunger that lies far deeper than the level of language or affection." ~ Much this same point, that prayer is a desire for God, a consciousness of our being pilgrims, of our listening to what is in, but not of, the world, is made not only by Merton, but also by Teresa of Avila, by Aquinas, by Paul, by Guardini, by John of the Cross, and by Karl Rahner. When John of the Cross wrote that the man of prayer "will desire with all desire to come to that which in this life cannot be known," 6 he was making much the same point as Paul whose prayer was his desire for God: I think that what we suffer in this life can never be compared to the glory, as yet unrevealed, which is waiting for us. The whole creation is eagerly awaiting for God to reveal his sons . Creation still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God. From the beginning until now the entire 2 Encounters With S!lence (Westminster: Newman, 1965), p. 25. a Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen and the Birds o] Appetite (New York: New Directions, 1968), p. 56. ~Seeds o[ Contemplation (Norfolk, Connecticut: New Directions, 1968), p. 133. ~ Ibid., p. 140. ~ The Complete Works of John of the Cross (Westminster: New-man, 1949), v. 1, p. 76. creation, as we know, has been groaning in one great act of giving birth; and not only creation, but all of us who possess the first fruits of the Spirit, we too groan inwardly as we wait for our bodies to be set free. For we must be content to hope that we shall be saved--our salvation is not in sight., it is something we must wait for with patience. The Spirit too comes to help us in our weakness. For when we cannot choose words in order to pray properly, the Spirit himself expresses our plea in a way that could never be put into words, and God who knows everything in our hearts knows perfectly well what he means.' These are the words of Paul who longed ~o be deliv-ered from this body of death and to be with God, Paul who wrote to his Philippians: "I want to be gone and be with Christ." s Thus, for a man who really desires God, prayer is no longer problematic, because we pray as we live. As Merton puts it: "As a man is, so he prays." 9 Thus the man who listens is he who is able to hear his own deep desire for God. He, the pilgrim, is able to say: "I want God and I want him more than anything else, and I will wait for him." This is what Teresa of Avila meant when she uttered her Deus solus sul~cit. It is this realization which is the substance of prayer. Following along these same lines, Karl Rahner says that the ulti-mate meaning of daily prayer is the awful waiting for the God we desire: "The prayer that You require of me," writes Rahner to God, "must be, ultimately, just a pa-tient waiting for You, a silent standing by until You, who are ever present in the inmost center of my being, open the gate to me from within." 10 For Rahner, being a listener, a pilgrim, was based on the realization that nothing on earth is worth abandon-ing oneself to it. Thus all life is one prayer, one long aspiring for God, like the lives of the wise virgins of the Gospel, si~ch that our eternal possession by God is the answer to our lifelong prayer, a prayer which basically is like that of John of the Cross: I live, yet no true life I know, And living thus expectantly, I die because I do not die Within myself no life I know And without God, I cannot live.n Out of our Augustinian restlessness-~our restless until they rest in thee--and out of our wholeness and for finality is born contemplati Thi~_ pr_~esupposes, of course, that we can hear~ ' Rorn 8:18-27. s Phil 1:23. ~No Man Is an Island (New York: Harcourt, Brace 1955), p. 42. 10 Rahner, Encounters, p. 24. ~ Works of John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 450. hearts are ~unger for ve prayer. he cries of and World, 4- 4- + Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 81I Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 812 our hearts for wholeness. The penalty for failing to artic-ulate our inner longings for God, for failing to risk the often painful encounter with the unseen God within Us, is being doomed to live a boring, supercilious, superficial life. But none of us wants to live a superficial life, just as none of us wants to live a life devoid of prayer. The crucial question, then, is: How do we learn to listen, to live as pilgrims? How do we begin to utter the "I want God" which is the essence of contemplative prayer? Pascal says that we would not seek God unless He had ¯ already found us.12 This suggests that we cannot learn to desire God, because He must find us first. This suggests that John of the Cross was correct when he said thatthe soul that has union with God no longer has any methods of prayer, that within the limits of the supernatural there are no prescribed ways.13 Pascal's remark also suggests that we do not really learn to look for God; rather, we realize He is already within us. Seeking Him should be for us, as it wa~ for Paul, a continual realization that He has already found us, that He dwells within us. "Know you not," Paul virtually shouts out, that "you are the temples of the Spirit?" 14 Paul knew that God had found him, had loved him.15 As John said: "Christ first loved us." i~ Perhaps we do not have a tremendous desire for God because we have not been stripped of all else. That is why we cannot live as listeners, as pilgrims. 1 referred earlier to the necessity of detachment if we were to listen to the cries of our heart for God--lf we were to llve ~'s pilgrims. This emptiness means, I think, that we realize that just as love demands sacrifice, so prayer dhmands discipline, that we cannot live by our feelings and then call it fulfillment, that we cannot live by rationalizing and then call it hearing the Spirit. I think this ~mptiness means, too, that we must bear patiently even our inabil-ity to desire God. Only When we learn to suffer with our own inability to find Christ, only when we discover our own spiritual poverty and our own hunger for God, only when we learn to agonize over the whys of existence and God and self---only then will we have prepared the ground out of which the solitude of contemplation will grow, because on.ly then will we have learned to listen. It is~hard to learn to listen, hard to say "I want God" when we know that the very conditions of our finding God demand sacrifice: the sacrifice of regular, disciplined ~ Quoted by Louis Evely, That Man Is You (Westminster: New-man, 1964), p. 15. ,1, Works o] John oI the Cross, v. 2, p. 76. it Rom 8:9-11; I Cor 3:16. ~ Rom 5:8. 101 Jn 4:19. prayer, the saca-ifice of not trying to rely on an of prayer but only on faith, the sacrifice of "a ihg," as Rahner calls it,17 the sacrifice of reno that we possess, as Luke says,18 the sackifice of o dung what we used to call gain, as Paul says.19 All these forms of sacrifice are" what Cassian "purity of heart," what Christ meant when no man can serve two masters, what Merton using Zen to still the birds of appetite, wh~ Eckhart meant when he said: "To be a proper God and fit for God to act in, a man should a] from all things and actions, both inwardly wardly.20 In saying that detachment and mortification condition for the contemplative prayer ofa li: being a pilgrim, we enunciate the dictum of Jc Cross: Solitude is o;eated by an unsatisfie~ John of the Cross compares wrong desires tc which obstruct the sight of the soul,2~ and says hess that is uncreated cannot enter the soul, not first cast out that other created hunger whk to the desire of the soul; for . two contrari dwell in one person . " Yet, in spite of our knowledge that we will ne union with God in prayer without first emp hearts of other desires, this knowledge does cause us to desire God. On the contrary, it is dous grace, I think, for a person living in th~ lose interest in the things that absorb the discover in his own soul an appetite for po y methods ~vful wait-ancing all )unting as meant by said that meant by it Meister abode for so be fi:ee and out-is the pre- ;tener, for hn of the hunger. cataracts that "ful-l there be h belongs es cannot vet attain Lying our lOt alone a tremen-world to orld and 'erty and. solitude. How can we prepare ourselves to r~ zeive this gift of grace? I think we can begin, as Merton'says, by not trying to understand, explain, or produce a ~lesire for God or for contemplative prayer. Rather, we on ght to .try tq see, to listen . and this seeing and hearin experience, not rationality, out of which pray! How else can we learn to hear the pure ~ which is the threshold for prayer? Paul sugges~ learn to really listen to the Spirit when in th~ chapters of the first epistle to the Corinthians, guishes two types of wisdom. The first is a ~ words; it is rational and didlectical. The secon~ dom of the cross; it is experiential and para6 was the second sort of knowledge that Paul kne about Christ. The word of the cross is self-empt Rahner, Encounters, p. 2~. Lk 14:33. Phil 3:7-9. Quoted by Thomas Merton, Zen, p. 9. Works oI John oI the Cross, v. 1, pp. 42-3. Ibid., p. 36. is pure is born. Cperience how we first two .ae distin-isdom of is a wis- ~xical. It w told us ying, and ÷ ÷ Prayer VOLUME 29, 1970 813~ 4, 4. Sister Kristin REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 814 only it enables us to know in the Biblical sense of know-ing as possessing in the act of love. Those who love have a new logic of knowledge and from this new type of wisdom comes the experience which is prayer. But prayer, listening to the reality of all that happens, is not merely being aware of our desire for God and our condition of being pilgrims. Prayer is not only to love God above all things, but it is also to see him everywhere in all things. This was what Teilhard called "purity of heart." 2a That is, prayer also is a type of listening which looks outward and sees the world as filled with signs of God. It is tlfis type of prayer whose exercise demands that we al! be prophets, revealing the hidden things of God out of tangible happenings. This type of prayer is not problematic if one's world is shot through with God. But how do we listen such that our world is seen and heard as permeated with God? One way, I think, is to build on the crucial experiences of life, since prayer operates by means of issues which are ulti-mate in our lives. That is, prayer operates according to our systems of values. Prayer, or the lack of it, affirms what is, or what is not, important to us: That is, the happenings which drive us to the ground ques-tions about human existence and which elicit our deepest self commitments are., good preparations for deep prayer. We find in the profound experiences of love and creativity an in-tensification of our spiritual self-possession, accompanied by a lucid awareness of the contingency of our world, which is already an encounter with God. From such peak experiences we can slowly learn to feel how God is always present to our human action?~ Perhaps we cannot learn to pray because we cannot really see or hear. Perhaps we are too much a part of an age which is activistic rather than prayerful, pragmatic rather than spiritual, anthropocentric rather than theocentric, compromising rather than disciplined. Thomas Merton once wrote that if we were really look-ing for God,. every moment and every event would sow seeds of contemplation in our hearts.2~ That is, if our hearts were ready, we would see that "the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls" as Simon and Garfunkel say. All life would be a sign if we knew how to listen to God. How do we become prophets, so that we can listen to the signs of God that are heard in life? Perhaps one way of listening is conscience. Perhaps another is being aware of a seeking that is unsatisfied by material things. As we =Hymn of the Universe (New York: Harper and Row, 1965), p. 124. -"~ John Carmody, S.J., "Contemporary Faith and Prayer," Sisters Today, November 1967, p. 105. "~ Merton, Seeds, p. 18. passively search, or listen, we become aware of God's work in us and in the world around us and we respond. This response, is prayer, and it was brought about, as Scriptures say, by sleeping with our hearts awake.2~ And our heart is kept awake by love and discipline, by faith- [ulness to the insights of prayer, by watchful attention. This continual search is the 'condition of continued growth, and faith is the condition of continual search.27 For us to be prayerful, then, requires that we learn to see the world as prophets, as full of signs of God, and this requires faith. But what is the object of our faith and how is it attained? Jesus told us to seek and we would find, and yet He did not tell us what we would find. In fact He said there were no close directives for discovering His kingdom. It would come unawares; it was within . His coming would be like a lJlghtning flash.-~s If this is so, then perhaps all we can do is to be like watchful virgins, ready for the hour when His light and His prayer comes. Another way of being "ready" is, I think, to eliminate the defensivensss and self-protectiveness of our words, by opening ourselves to understand, by giving up the secu-rity of set words or positions. If we know how to listen, then a person who confronts us with angxy words is really saying he is afraid to love us. A person who says God does not exist is really saying no one ever made God meaning-ful to him. Listening this way means hearing God. And after all, (lid not God know how to listen? He loved us first, as John says.29 He became a slave so that we could be saved, as Paul says, and He loved us while we were yet sinners.~0 Why is it that we cannot see signs of God, that we do not know how to listen and to pray? Perhaps it is because Christ is not real enough for us . but how is he made real? One way, I think is by the way in which He gives shape to our lives by the vocation that we, with the Spirit, choose. This is because, for the Christian, love is the only absolute, and' our vocational dhoice and our prayer are both concrete ways of expressing this love. When Jesus prayed, it was always in response to His vocation; He prayed before choosing His Apostles, and before His passion and death. To pray in this way, as Christ prayed, demands that we listen to the signs of God in our vocational call. We pray for much ~he same rea-sons that we want to be religious: we want to preach God and to praise Him and to help bring forth His kingdom. ~ Canticle of Canticles 5:2. ~ See Rosemary Haughton, On Trying to Be Human (Springfield, Illinois: Templegate, 1966), p. 42. = Lk 17:24. .o0 1 Jn 4:19. ~o Phil 2:7; Rom 5:9. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 815 Si~ter Kristin REVIEW FOR,RELIGIOUS 816 We want to find Him. For these reasons we pray. For these reasons we are celibates living in community. Thus the surrender to God's will which characterizes listening prayer seems, identical with a resolve to go ahead vocationally with what we know we must do. And what we must do is necessitating precisely because it is a faithful expression of who we are. Prayer and vocation both say who we are; they constitute our identity, and they are both linked together. If we are faithful to who we a~e, then we listen. Then we do not have to run around trying to fill up people with. God, because we know He is already there, that we have already been redeemed. Then we are abl~ to make visible, in daily events, the fact that behind the anxious sincerity and idealism and capacity to love of most people is the face of Christ who loved us so much that He came to liye among us, that behind the dirty curtain of Viet-nam, and racial hatred, and all the ways in which we are insensitive to those with whom we live, is the face of the crucified Christ. This is the raw material of prayer, and knowing how to listen refines it into prayer. If we know how to listen, then we do not have to look at the world as if it were built in two stories: the first floor, the natural level, the second floor, the supernatural level. If we know how to listen, we do not have to try to depend upon laws or habits or practices or veils to speak, of God. Our love will do it for us. Instead, we can take the world as it is, lavished by God's love and our poor attempts to love, and see it as holy. I do not think the person of prayer, as prophet, is pietistic.or aloof or unapproachable; I think he or she is One who is able to recognize in all men the face of the Messiah, the one who, as prophet, is able to make visible what is hidden and hopeful the one who was without hope. Such a person is compassionate and merciful; he realizes that nothing human is alien, that something looks profane only because his eye is not sacred. Out of this human compassion, the heart of a true prophet is opened not only to his sisters and brothers, but to God. In listening to them, he can listen to the man of Galilee who called illiterate fishermen, who talked with learned Pharisees, who wept over Jerusalem, and who, finally,. had nowhere to lay His head. Jesu.s redeemed us, and if we listen, we know that. When we listen, we will become aware of all that is beautiful, that is one, that is in pain and anguish, of all that is holy, in the Body of Christ. With this awareness-- and we have to be aware--we go to the Father in the Spirit, and we praise Him and reverence Him and lift up to Him the suffering members of His Body. It is this awareness which is the door to deep personal prayer. In fact, contemplative prayer is a witness to a special type of awareness: that of faith. Here:, God is present to the self and the contemplative listener is called to live in a more intimate communication with that mystery. Just as de-tachment was the precondition for the prayer which was desire for God, so faith is the precondition for the prayer which sees God in all things. When we can live these two types of prayer, when we are both pilgrim and prophet, we can listen, and we hear precisely because we have stilled our own murmurings and hear Christ in others. When we are all this, we have, as John of the Cross says, both entered upon the road and left the road at the same time.al At this point we will have given God, not our feelings, not even our thoughts, but ourselves. And when we have done this, we can say with Rahner: "Your commission has become my very life. It ruthlessly claims all my energies for itself; it lives from my own life." az We can say with Paul: I am not my own any longer,as At this point, our prayer will be the utterly simple prayer of listening because we will be living and moving and having being in God. Prayer will happen because we pray as we live, and we must live as pilgrims and proph-ets. In the end, all I have said comes down to our living with the unshakable conviction, of those who wait, that now we see a dim reflection in a mirror, but that one day, one day, as Paul says?4 we will see face to face. Works ol John oI the Gross, v. 2, p. 70. Rahner, Encounters, p. 72. Philem I:10; Phil 3:12. 1 Cor 15:12. Prayer. VOLUME 29, 1970 817 JOHN O. MEANY AND SISTER MARJORIE CAREY, B.V.M. Psychology and "The Prayer of the Heart" J. O. Meany is as-sociate professor of. education and Sis-ter Marjorie teaches Russian at the Uni-versity of Notre Dame; Notre Dame, Indiana 48556; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Incredible as it may seem, there is an ancient Christian tradition of prayer which seems to be almost unknown to Christians in the West. How many Western Christians, for example, have heard of "The Prayer of the Heart"? This Eastern tradition of prayer, sometimes called "Hesy-chasm," may play an increasingly important role in the personal and interior "reformation" which is, hopefully, now taking place in the Roman Catholic Church in the West. There are changes emerging in the Western ap-proaches to prayer and to spiritual formation: a return to a more interior life of prayer and a personalistic and psychologically-conscious spirituality. In order to return to what is more basic and funda-mental in the psychology of prayer, it is essential that we distinguish between those particular aspects of Western Christianity which have been determined by our own unique culture(s) and traditions and, on the other hand, those aspects of prayer and spirituality which are, in an anthropological sense, relatively "culture-free," or more universal and fundamental. It may be difficult to com-pare. our own familiar forms of prayer and spirituality with those which are relatively more independent of our own experience and traditions, but only in this way can we obtain a new view of the primary sources of the basic Christian spirit. There are, of course, as many approaches to G6d as there are (from the human point of view) facets of His Being; and there are as many paths to Him as there are individuals whom He guides along these paths. For God is not limited by our limitations. He draws each individ-ual to Him in a unique way. Yet it seems that, however unique the way, God usually draws a person to Him by using that person's cultural and socio-economic back-ground. Eastern and Western traditions and personality characteristics differ; thus the mode of prayer of an East-ern Christian may seem to be radically different in ap-pearance, if not in reality, from that of a Western Chris-tian. In recent years, however, many young Westerners have turned to the East for new approaches to spirituality; they have found in some forms of Eastern spirituality-- particularly in Zen Buddhism and Yoga--new insights into themselves. Similarly, we, too, may come to see more clearly our own sources of spirituality, through an at-tempt to understand a different Christian tradition. In-deed, one seldom understands his own country until he has left it to travel abroad. | Historically, the Prayer of the Heart d~tes back to the fourth-century desert fathers of Egypt wh~ insisted on the ideal of continual prayer. The Prayer of/he Heart, often called the Jesus Prayer today, began to e~nerge in recog-nizable form during the fifth century; and the full text of the prayer can be found in the life of tl~e sixth-century Egyptian hermit, Abba Philemon. A coln~non~ expression of the Jesus Prayer, rhythmically said froth the heart, has bee,n,: "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me. This form of prayer can be descr!,b~d as: "Standing before God with the mind in the heart. | The roots of the Jesus Prayer are to belfound in Scrip-ture itself. The Jews of the Old Testarpent so revered Yahweh that His name was considered to [be an extension of His Person, a revelation of His Being.I This reverence for the name of God continues throughout the New Tes-tament: "At the na,m,,e of Jesus every kne~ should bow, in heaven and on earth (Phil 2:10). Indeed, lthe entire Jesus Prayer is existentially, as well as Biblically, oriented. Its similarity to two other Scriptural prayers is apparent: the prayer of the blind man, "Jesus, Son ~f David, have mercy on me" (Lk 18:38); and that of the [publican, "God be merciful to me a sinner" (Lk 18:13). In t!me, a body ,o,f traditio,n, al teachin~ c,a, lled "Hesy-chasm;' meaning quietness' or "reppse, grew up around the Jesus Prayer; and at least 'since the sixth century the tradition of the Jesus Prayer has influenced the spirituality of Eastern Christians. During three peri-ods of history the Jesus Prayer has been particularly in-fluential in the East: during the Golden Age of Hesy-chasm in fourteenth-century Byzantium .under the great theologian,. St. Gregory Palamas; during the Hesychast renaissance in Greece in the eighteenth century when the great anthology of Eastern spirituality, the Philokalia (love of the beautiful), was written; and during nine-teenth century Russia under Theophan the Recluse. To understand better how the Hesychast approach could contribute to the West, one might examine how it ÷ ÷ ÷ Prayer o] the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 819 4. 4. 4. I. O. Meany and St. Marjmle REVJEW FOR REL]GIO0$ 82O has already contributed to the East; for example, how it has contributed to Russian spirituality, as that spirit has grown out of the environment and "national" character of the Russian people. The Russians are predominantly a silent people; this is evident in an old Russian custom: traditionally, whenever a member of an old Orthodox Russian family leaves on a journey, the entire family gathers in silence to pray. The family remains silent for several minutes; then the father rises to bless the family and each member of the family silently traces the Sign of the Cross on his forehead while facing the. family icon. Afte~ this paternal blessing, mutual blessings are ex-changed. This love of silence may also have led many Russian Christians to a contemplative life. There is also in the soul of the Russian people a primitive, almost naive simplicity; yet in this simplicity profound depths may be fathomed. Russian spirituality has been imbued with this simplicity which is so characteristic of the spirit of the Gospel. Their prayer life, too, has always been simple, without a complicated rational (or discursive) for-mula. Still another characteristic of the Russian peasant is his love of the rhythmic beauty of life--the" rhythm found in the cycles of nature and family life. This is especially apparent in the works of Tolstoy, who so com-pellingly depicted these cycles in his great epics, War and Peace and Anna Karenina. This love of rhythm, found also in Russian music, is clearly reflected in the rhythmic breathing of the "Jesus Prayer." One of the most obvious characteristics of the Russian peasant is his yearning for open and unlimited stretches of land. The geography of the land, therefore, influences the national character ofthe people, which in turn, af-fects the forms of their spirituality. The vast open areas of Siberia, the immense forests of the country, seems to have evoked a response to the Infinite which is reflected in personal religious experience. Because of this yearning for space, the Russian peasant has also been somewhat of a pilgrim. This, of c6urse, is true of many cultures and personalities; indeed, the whole history of man can be seen as a journey. Yet as Nicolas. Berdyaev points out, this spirit of the wanderer seems particularly characteristic of the Russian people. Through the centuries Russian pil-grims have traveled from afar in search of peace and spiritual renewal, visiting the famous cathedrals of Kiev, Novgorod, and other places of pilgrimage. They have traveled especially to those places where a "staretz," a man of God, prayer, and discernment, was still to be found. Thus, the innate yearning of the Russians for vast unlimited space has made them a nomadic people. This spirit of the wanderer, in search of truth, is .underscored in The VCay of a Pilgrim, a story of a Russian pilgrim who journeys forth, continually repeating the Jesus Prayer. This unknown Russian pilgrim has made the Eastern mode of prayer more available to Westerners through his personal religious experiences which are de-scribed in The Way o[ a Pilgrim and The Pilgrim ,Con-tinues His Way. The Jesus Prayer is a prayer that comes from the heart. It differs from the current Western and, perhaps, more cognitive approach to prayer; yet as St. Teresa of Avila points out, the important thing is not to have m~ny thoughts, but to have great love. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved the idea of the whole man: body and heart as well as mind and soul. This more total approach to "spirituality" seems to be meaningful for modern Westerners, as can be seen in the new orientation of such books as Harvey Cox's The Feast o[ Fools, Dechanet's Christian Yoga, Dom Aelred Graham's Zen Catholicism and Norman Brown's Love's Body. The difference in modes of prayer, then, between the East and the West is based not only on cultural and personality characteristics, but also on the different atti-. tudes toward man which are prevalent in the East and in the West. For centuries. Europeans and Americans have tended to emphasize man's rational nature; and since the Counter-Reformation, this emphasis has found expression not only in Western scientific methodology but also in various discursive "methods" of prayer, such as the Igna-tian, Sulpician, Salesian, and Ligourian. Descartes' dualism, or Western rationalism, has failed, however, to create in the (non-Westernized) East the head/heart dichotomy that it has fostered in the West. The traditional Russian peasant seems never to have lost his sense of wholeness. Eastern Christians seem to have preserved that broad perspective of "the whole man," an integrated body-heart-mind-soul. Perhaps the Zen scholar Daisetz T. Suzuki was right in contending that Western thought has erected barriers be-tween man and reality; barriers of concepts, imagery, cas-uistry, and reasoning. Consequently, instead of bringing us closer to reality, language has frequently separated us from it. For example, if a person rigidly decides not'to think about sex, he often finds himself unconscio~usly in-volved in it. There is a story of a Western theologian who decided to marry just after writing an elaborate treatise on celibacy; the theologian admitted that all his former theories had been "mental constructs." In terms of depth psychology, this type of theological "construct" might be seen as an intellectual defense, a defense which .broke down under the pressure of previously-denied (emotional and sense) experience. Repression fosters "acting out.:' Similarly, current Western existential "philosophy" can the Heart ,. VOLUME' 29,. 1970 :~" 82L ~. O. Meany and Sr. Mar]orie REVIEW FOR RELiGiOUS 822 be seen as an attempt to break through (defensive) logical constructs in order to come closer to the "living reality." The East, however, is in a sense, already "existential" and has been throughout its long history. Though recent Western theology has tended to be Cartesian or dualistic, the Russian has always been more at home with an existential or phenomenological ap-proach to God and prayer. The writings of Dostoevsky were influenced by Orthodox spirituality; this approach is often viewed as both intriguing and somewhat threat-ening to a Westerner, whose spiritual formation has o.ften been unconsciously conditioned by abstract ideals and logical categories. However, existeritialism and phenom-enology are beginning to have an impact in the West, through such Christian authors as Dietrich von Hilder-brand, Hubert Dom, Adrian Van Kaam, Gabriel Marcel, and Simone Weil. The existential and direct approach to God, although it is found in the prayers of the liturgies of the West, has always been a more living part of the consciousness of the Russian. The best aspects of tradi-tional Russian spirituality would not be interested in a rationalism or nominalism which would tend to separate love from human physical experience. But the worst in Russian Marxism might attempt to separate love from the physical world. Even as the human body can be seen as the outward expression of the inner soul, so also can icons, images, and incense be seen as an expression of the Church's inner spirituality. Thus the Russian prays with a pro-found sense of reverence; he seems to have a deep sense of ritual. In the Orthodox religion there is no Western-like sepa-ration between the liturgy and private prayer; no such Cartesian-like distinctions are made. This ancient Eastern tradition is similar to a relatively new trend in the West-ern liturgical movement which stresses the use of public liturgical prayers for private prayer. The scholarly jour-nal, Worship, has long stressed the value of liturgical meditations. We are not always conscious of the fact that much of our Western liturgy is an existential prayer, existential because it addresses God in the "here-and-now." For. Orthodox Christians there are no logical dis-tinctions between private and public prayer, just as for them there are no class or caste distinctions between monks and laymen. Husbands and wives, monks and nuns, all follow the same traditional and existential way of prayer. Love, not rules, is the focal point. Orthodox Christians do not feel that reading the Bible reflectively is a prayer, though they do not deny its value. Reflective reading often is predominantly a cognitive process unless the words are related to the feelings, fanta-sies, and senses of the "heart." Orthodox Christians re-gard their prayer as more of a total personal relationship to God, by praying "with the mind in the heart." At the risk of imposing Western categories on Ortho-dox spirituality, one might distinguish three forms of Orthodox prayer. First, bodily prayer which uses the pos-ture and the senses of the body. For example, one might bend his head so that his eyes can look at the place of the heart; he may try to become aware of his breathing in order to use its natural rhythm as an aid to concentration as he prays to God. Secondly, mental prayer in which the mind holds the "Word" in inward prayer, so that con-sciousness is expanded; thus one tries to center one's whole being on the "Word of God." And thirdly, there is the Prayer of the Heart. This last form of prayer is for Eastern Christians the highest form of prayer because in this way of praying the mind descends to the heart as it stands before God. The Orthodox feel that it is essential that the mind descend into the feelings and images of the heart during prayer although they realize that the heart, without the attention of the intellect, is blind. As St. Makarios of Egypt (4th century) said: "Descend into thy heart and there do battle with Satan." Thus the mind of the person descends into his heart to view his feelings, fantasies, and sensual experiences in order to choose those which are truly good and oppose those which are not. This process is different from that advocated by some western writers like Tanquerey. This process also pre-supposes a deep psychological openness to oneself, a non-defensive consciousness. Unlike many Westerners, the Eastern Christian does not try to use his intellectual constructs to keep the mind from the heart. Rather, he worships God with his heart and feelings which are, hope-fully, known by his mind. Thus the body and the inter-nal senses play a positive role in prayer, as it can in higher forms of Yoga. The conscious use of the body, as in dancing, could play a more important role in prayer and in the liturgy of the West. The purpose of the Jesus Prayer is to fill one's whole consciousness with the name of Jesus, just as St. Francis of Assisi spent a whole night in prayer rqpeating ever more deeply the Lord's name. Ideally, the head and the heart are thus united; conscious unity in the person is the goal of some modern psychologists and theologians. For example, the psychologist Carl Rogers describes the ide-ally "fully functioning person" as one who knows, exis-tentially, what his "heart" (or organism) is saying, and he can talk about his inner experience if he chooses to do so. The theologian, John S. Dunne, in his A Search [or God Prayer of the Heart VOLUME 29, 1970 823 ~. O. Mean~ and St. Mar]orie~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in Tim.~ and Memory also stresses the value of a unity of thought, feeling a.nd action in the person, " ' .~ Through the centuries physical~ "exercise~ ~ind disci-plines such as fasting have been used to affect one's sciousness. In prayer, exercises and inner discipli.nes can" be used. to concentrate, one's being on the n.ame of. Jesus. But. one great danger in "prayer" is that words, or thoughts can be compulsively repeated, being motivated by unconscibus inner conflicts;, thus "prayer" could, be used defensively to avoid an inner growth of. conscious-ness and love. As in some forms of Yoga, the Jesus Prayer can be associated with the natural rhythm of breathing. Thus, this Hesychast"method of prayer uses the natural, not [orced rhythm of breathing or the .heartbeat to aid total intellectual and emotional conceritration on the name of Jesus; just.as a Westerner might use the beads of'a rosary ti~ c0ncefitrate on a mystery. By using his breathing to concentrate on the name of Jesus, the person may thus bring prayer more deeply into his ~hole being. Sponta-neous and relaxed breathing is used to bring one's atten-tion repeatedly back to the name of Jesus, which is then psychologically associated with the breath (and life) of the person. It is important to realize that these physical exercises are regarded as an aid to, not~ an obligation of, prhy'er. The Orthodox know well that there can be no physical or mechanical means of acquiring grace. No bod' ily nor physical techniques can be an automatic method of obtaining grace. Furthermore, they do not recommend the use of this form of prayer without proper guidance, or Spiritual direction, because it can cause sexual arousal, or it could possibly damage the lungs or body, if forced o~ used incorrectly. Associating one's prayers with the natural easy flow of one's breathing, however, is'a way of aiding the mind to descend into the body and the heart,' in an attempt to offer lovingly to God one's whole being (emotions, will, and attention) in the name of Jesus. Some practical applications of processes similar to this way of prayer are described in J. M. Dechanet's Christian Yoga. This book is one example of a modern application of "ancient wisdom to prayer. He includes a discussion of practical techniques for the "Prayer of the Heart." "On the Three Methods of Attention and Prayer"'is a treatise often attributed to St. Simon the New Theolo-gian. It makes clear that .there are three ways of prayer. The first way of prayer, used by an emotional person, would stress primarily the feeling approach to God with-out much stress on reason. A second ,,~ay of,prayer would stress the intellectual approach with thoughts-fighting-. thoughts because that person is relatively unaware of his emotions. The third and preferable way is an integration which would have the mind consciously descend into the heart so that the person takes a conscious position toward his own internal emotions and fantasies in order to love God with his whole mind, his whole heart, and his whole soul In recent years many young Americans--like Franny in Salinger's Franny and Zooey---have come to know some-thing of the Jesus Prayer, although it may easily be mis-interpreted as a mechanical spirituality. Its appeal for modern people may be due to several factors: its Christo-centric theme, its Scriptural base, its simplicity. Many may find in this way of prayer a human expression of their adoration and love of God. Others may find in its rhythmic breathing a meaningful way of "physically ex-pressing" their spirit. So, like Yoga, Zen, and other modes of Eastern spirituality, Orthodoxy may offer to the West another approach to prayer, perhaps another way of help-ing us to find our way back to the Christian Spirit. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY AND SOURCES Arseniev, Nicolas. Russian Piety. London: Faith Press, 1964. Balthasar, Hans Urs von. Prayer. New York: Sheed and Ward, 1961. Berdiaev, Nicolas. The Russian Idea. New York: Macmillan, 1948. Chariton of Valamo, Igumen. The Art of Prayer. London: Faber and Faber, 1966. Dechanet, Jean Marie. Christian Yoga. New York: Harper and Row, 1960. Delmage, L. Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius. New York: Wagner, 1968. Diahonia, a journal edited by George Maloney, S.J. New York: Fordham University. Dunne, John S. A Search for God in Time and Memory. Toronto: Macmillan, 1969. Fedotov, George P. A Treasury of Russian Spirituality. London: Sheed and Ward, 1952. Hausherr, Iren~e. "La m~thode d'oraison h~sychaste," Orien-talia christiana, 1927. Loyola, Ignatius de. The Autobiography of St. Ignatius. New York: Benziger, 1900. Johnston, S.J., William. "Dialogue with Zen," Concilium, November 1969. Jung, Carl G. The Collected Worhs of Carl Jung, volumes 5 and 9. Princeton: Princeton University, 1968. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Early Fathers from the Philokalia. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Kadloubovsky, E. and Palmer, G. E. H. Writings from the Philokalia on Prayer of the Heart. London: Faber and Faber, 1951. Mason, R.ussell E. Internal Perceptions and Bodily Function-ing. New York: International Universities Press, 1961. Nicodemus of the Holy Mountain. Unseen Warfare. London: Faber and Faber, 1952. Philips, Dewi Z. The Concept of Prayer. New York: Schocken, 1966. Prayer " o] the Heart VOLUME 2% 1970 825 Richardson, A. Mental Imagery. New York: Springer, 1969. Sofrony, Archimandrite. The Undistorted Image. London: Faith Press, 1958. Stolz, Karl R. The Psychology of Prayer. New York: Abingdon, 1923. Ware, Timothy. The Orthodox Church. Baltimore: Pelican, 1964. .~. O. Meany and St. Mar]orle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS JONATHAN FOSTER, O.F.M. Some Notes on Hostility and Fidelity: The Religious Presence One of the most masterful and insightful commentaries on human aggression dates from the years immediately following World War I--Edna St. Vincent Millay's poign-ant little play, Aria da Capo. In the work's "play within a play," two friendly and unsophisticated shepherds under the direction of a stern stage manager set out to play a game in which they innocently build a wall between them and say "that over there belongs to me and over here to you." The game soon becomes deadly serious, however, and their friendship quickly deteriorates into suspicion and mistrust. At one point in the game, Thyrsis has a moment of sanity and beseeches Corydon.: "It is an ugly game. I hated it from the first. How did it start?" To which Corydon replies: "I do not know . I do not know. I think I am afraid of you! You are a strangerl I never set eyes on you before." Their fearful insight into the tragedy of their situation does not hinder them, how-ever, from plunging head-long into the "game" which ends in their mutual killing of each other for what the other has. The essence of the tragedy of human existence there-fore, as seen by Miss Millay, is the deterioration of trust. When man do not deliberately break trust with each other, society can be sweet and peaceful, as the shepherds in the play experienced it. For in the beginning, before the "game," they agreed in simple joy to "make a song about a lamb that thought himself a shepherd." But when .the wall goes up--and in the play it is only a streamer of tissue paper that Corydon cannot even find when he staggers toward his dead friend in his death agony--ignorance and misunderstanding build large, + + 4. Jonathan Foster is a member of St. Joseph's Franciscan Seminary; P.O. Box 449; Oak Brook; Il-linois 60521. VOLUME 29, 1970 827. ]. Foster,~ O.F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 828 tricksome images that cast dark and suspicious shadows over the land. And it is when we encounter these suspi-cious shadows that:we begin to experience hostility, and too frequeritly this hostility bristles into violence. I would like to suggest here that the situation dramati-cally Conceived in Aria da Capo is .r~pidly coming to characterize the whole of American society and that the current easy attitude toward vows in religious life is con-tributing to this situation. ¯ There is an unease in the land, an .unease that increas-ingly expresses itself in polarized movements, bristles with hostility for its counterparts, and, with a regularity t.ha.t is ~c~asing to. ast.onish; b.reaks out into violence. The reason for this is hardly a simple onE;°but one of the most important factors, I believe, is the demise of trust under-lined by Miss Millay. It has long been known that violence, especially as carried out by children, is the mindless response to a betrayal of trust by those who should above all have been trustworthy--parents, brothers, sisters, friends. Most psy-chotic violence among grown-ups too is explainable in terms of betrayal and subsequent alienation. It is.not too much to suggest that the unease drifting through our country, the. increasing prickle of hostility, the growing threat of mass violence is largely a projection on a na-tional scale of this same betrayal o~ trust. There certainly has been such a betrayal in our public institutions. Our government and political leaders have been. found to be insincere so often and so damagingly that they, have generated powerful counter-political movements based on an-idealism that seeks to actually do that which government and presen( politics only profess tostand for. Business and labor time and.time again have been found out to be playing dirty games behind the bright chintz of public relations, advertising; and noble sentiments. The curtains have been jerked back a few times too often on all levels of education, to reveal admin-istrators and teachers .with their thumbs stuck in a few unsuspected pies. Even the hallowed judicial system has been seen to be as petty and partial as ward-heeling poli-ticians. Bishops and religious leaders with almost monot-onous regularity put on masks in the same dressing rooms with government,, and more and more of their subjects are sbe, ing under the make-up. ¯ Perhaps all this insincerity is not as new as it seems. But what is certainly new is the great number of people who know: about it. Mass journalism and historical schol-arship have had much to do with this public breast-bar-ing, "telling, it like it is," debunking and stripping down even ou~ heroes. And so, I suggest, the great question that expresses the malaise of. our society is: "Who ;can you trhst?" Th~ cynical crack is mor~ and more the language of the land. More and more like-minded'groups, search-ing for trust, turn within and band together. The result is fraCtionalization, polarization, hostility, violence. "I do not know you" becomes "I do not trust you." But this is hardly the whole story. As if it were not engugh that the public institutions of our, society are found not to wash under their public robes, we are facing now the deterioration of trust in the private institutions of our society. Personal rel~itionships 'of all kinds ,have B~en affected by the erosion of trust. The vows of mar-riage, "till death do us part,"'ard taken with increasingly l~gs seriousness. In the steady-dating relationship, too, boys and girls enter into quasi-matrimonial and even Sex-ual relationships, the basis of which is not ~rust, but usefulness ~ind convenience. But where this relationship is easi!y deceived into thinking itself meaningful, the no-torious "Playboy" relationship cynically strips away all pretense and encourages partners to enter the most trust-oriented of all relationships with the most callow mo-tives. And the infamous generation gap is not created just by misttnderstanding. It is created as much by the parents using this deepest and most responsibility-bearing rela-tionship as a means for their own advancement. Finally, there are religious vows. In the past history of religious life, the value of the vow for. society was preemi-nent. Today what is becoming of supreme value is the relevance of the vo;v for the individual religious. And if the taking of the vow, or the keeping of it even for a specified time much less for life, is similarly restricting, then it is not taken, or it is broken in view of some other commitment. The priority of the individual in the reli-gious taking of vows has become paramount in our day. What we are failing to understand at this point in the pendulum swing of religious commitment is that reli-gious life is perhaps the last social institution in which fidelity and trust are basic and honored, and that this perhaps says something about the witness of religious life in contemporary society. The absolute centrality of promises to the preservat~ion of the quality of human existence has been strongly stressed b);' various authors, bi~t none has made the case more' strongly than the philosopher, Hannah Arendt; In her book, The Human Condition, Miss Arendt pinpoints two factors essential to the preservation of~ life from chaos. The first is forgiveness, or the undoing of mistakes of the past. The second is the faculty to make and keep promises. The first obviously deals with the past. The second concerns the future. The ability to make promises and keep them builds on the reality.of forgiveness, and Mi~s Arendt always keeps the two together. But for our VOLUME 29; "1970 ' "" 829 ]. Foster, O.F.~I. ~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 830 purposes here, we must look especially close at what she says about promise. The making of promises is an expression of one of the most ancient needs of man. In fact the two great institu-tions of western society were built on promises. The Jew-ish- Christian religion grew out of the covenants of Abra-ham with God. And the Roman empire built a legal system on the inviolability of agreements and treaties. This is not surprising. For man's experience of himself in history has revealed a twofold "darkness." The first is his inability to rely on or have complete faith in himself: The second is the unpredictability of human events. And so man, both to insure his own survival and to make his society an increasingly hospitable one, from the very be-ginning has gone out to his fellowman in promise and covenant. He has come to rely on and count on his fel-lows. Promise is what holds society together and staves off barbarity, barbarity both in the forms of totalitarian domination and in the unstructured freedom of anarchy. Although Miss Arendt's primary purpose in treating the faculty of promise is to show that it lies at the very foundation of society, she does not ignore its value for the growth of the individual, which she sees in the con-text of the preservation of one's integrity: Without being bound in the fulfilment of promises, we would never be able to keep our identities; we would be con-demned to wander helplessly and without direction in the darkness of each man's lonely heart, caught in its contradic-tions and equivocalities--a darkness which only the light shed over the public realm through the presence of others, who con-firm the identity between the one who promises and the one who. fulfils can dispel" (The Human Condition, Doubleday Anchor Books, p. 21B). Promise combines with forgiveness, as Miss Arendt sees it, to form the basis of morality. For "these moral pre-cepts [forgiveness and promise] arise . directly out of the will to live together with others., and thus they are like control mechanisms built into the very faculty to start new and unending processes" (p. 221). It is here also that she stresses the creative and life-sustaining force of forgiveness and promise. For if we could not forgive mis-takes and if we could not re-establish firm bonds through promise, then society would be trapped by the "law of mortality" and would steadily wind itself down to death. Forgiveness and promise together make newness con-stantly possible. And as such they are the foundations for the Christian view of life--faith and hope: faith that is fidelity to the convenant, and hope that is created both in this fidelity and in forgiveness. What is important, I think, about Miss Arendt's com-ments is that they place the taking and keeping of vows not in the context of what it can do for the individual but rather of how the taking of vows enters into the very bloodstream of human society. She speaks eloquently of promise as confronting the "darkness" of human exist-ence, of staving off "ruin and destruction," of the "mira-cle that saves the world." She also cites Nietzsche's com-ment that promise is the very distinction which marks off human from animal life. It is precisely to this larger context therefore that we must shift some of our discus-sion of religious vows. Far from being an anachronistic kind of slavery exercised by religious orders to maintain their survival, religious vows must be seen, in Miss Arendt's perspective, as an expression of man's striving not only for survival, but for dignity as well. To further emphasize this perspective, we must focus very precisely on the kind of promises religious make. It is not a promise to complete the transaction of a deal, to run a hospital, to cook forever, or just to do anything. It is a promise to be, and as such a deep commitment and trust. We can forgive someone who does not keep a prom-ise to do something, and we can perhaps survive in a society in which this failure to deliver is relatively fre-quent. But how much can we tolerate of a society that ¯ does not keep its promises to be? When people make great commitments of personal loyalty and then opt out in large numbers, what effect, we must ask, does this have on society at large? And when they go a step further, frequently in justification, and refuse promise at all, or make expressions of loyalty that are weak, decidedly ter-minal and often vague and open-ended, what, we must fnrther ask, effect does this have on society? Does it weaken the ties between men? Is this abandonment of covenant intensifying in a' way that has not occurred to us at all the increasing lack of trust and rising hostility in our society? Does it raise again on a new front, and per-haps the last one, the question: "~¥ho can you connt on?" I suggest that religious have a serious responsibility to raise these issues. They are perhaps the last people in the world in which the free offering of total loyalty has been taken for granted as a matter of policy. Because of this professed commitment, they have been witnessing some-thing to the world, namely, that it is possible to be loyal and trustworthy on a grand scale. They have advanced the ideals of mankind a great milestone. And now sud-denly they have reversed this witness, first in practice, now in theory. The anger and resentment, shock and frustration of many people over the vast exodus from vows, now settling into a flat cynicism, comes as no sur-prise. Religious cannot simply dismiss this anger and cy-nicism with the comment: "They'll get used to it." This may very well be the tragedy we can least afford~that men should get used to it. ÷ ÷ VOLUME 29, 1970 831 ¯ Perhaps then if there is any validity tO these questions another dimension must be added to the mission of reli-gious today. If, as Miss Arendt suggests, the power of making and keeping promises is our bulwark against chaos or repression, if, as Nietszche asserts, fidelity is what distinguishes us from animals, then the question of vows is not merel.y a question of the internal life of a particu-lar community or of individual religious. It is joined to the very issue of human survival. My suggestion, then, is that as religious weigh' the relevance of taking of not taking vows, of their leaving or dissolution, to the per-sonal fulfilment of the individual religious, they also seri-ously discuss again the impact this same taking or aban-doning of vows has for society at large. The problems of the individual religious in an institute that he or she feels is inhibiting or irrelevant or itself unfaithful to its own profession are real eno.ugh to us. They have preoccupied religious for the past several years. But what about this same religious in relationship to a world in which indi-viduals and groups are drifting further and further apart 'because of the decay of trust and faithfulness? Do not religious perhaps have a mission here too? Today most religious orders, in their renewal, are concerned about "going out to the ~orld," trying to be relevant. It would be most ironic, not to say tragic, if what the world most needs, trust and loyalty, were precisely what religious are s'o busily unpacking and heaving overboard. ]. Foster,~O~F.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 832 KATHRYN LINDEMANN, O.P. Toward a Definition of "Communi " The problem. During the past few years there has been much debate among American religious concerning "community." "What is community?" and "What do you mean by community?" are two frequently heard ques-tions. This article does not attempt to totally resolve these questions since any further "total solutions" would only add to the present confusion. This paper does attempt to disentangle the discussion and to introduce clarifications which, will make resolu-tion possibl~. To this end it begins with a consideration of the present state of the issue. Then there is a non-po-lemic exposition of the meaning of "community" as found in current literature. Finally there is an indication of some still unanswered questions concerning "commun-ity" which seem important for continued progress toward a clear definition of "community." ¯ .4 first inquiry and a prol~ered solution. The fact that American religious are asking about "community" seems to indicate that they are aware of confusion and are seek-ing to remedy it. Confronted by this confusion, a normal query is: Why such a difficulty concerning "community"? One proffered solution has been to postulate something about the word itself~some attribute which defies defini-tion. "Community," like patriotism, becomes a Wittgen-steinian "slogan word" which is too ambiguous for defini-tion. Such a proposal is both logically unsound and a breeder of irrationality. If one analyzes it, one finds: 1. It accepts the generalization: "If x is a slogan word, then x precludes definition." 2. The postulation is then argued: since the definition of 'community' engenders much confusion, "com-munity" must be a slogan word. Since slogan words are indefinable, then "community" must be indefin-able. This is viciously circular. It assumes what it claims to ÷ Kathryn Linde-mann, O.P., lives at Mr. St. Mary Col-lege' in .,Newburgh, N.Y. 12550. VOLUME',29, '1970 . ~ ÷ ÷ Kathryn Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 834 prove. The statement of the generalization only acts as camouflage. If one wants to conclude that a slogan word is not definable, one cannot assume it is a slogan word because it is indefinable. In the practical order, the proposal leads to subjectiv: ism and a canonization of irrationality. If "community" is indefinable, then there is no procedure for discussing: what it is; what engenders it; what destroys it. Two indi-viduals have no way of ascertaining if they use the term with the same meaning. They are condemned to unknow-ing or subjectivism. Since rationality depends on com-monness, no rational procedures of discussion or decision are possible. Thus all those groups of American religious now committed to the conscious renewal of community can have no use for rationality in their endeavors. At best, community renewal needs to be relegated to some irrational force. A second proposal. The above is not the only possible explanation for the confusion concerning "community." There is also an explanatory avenue opened by the no-tion of the theory laden texture of terms. In Patterns of Discovery, Norman l~ussell Hanson explores the relation between theory and particular observations, facts, and terms. He contends that scientific observation, fact, and meaning are only possible within the context of a theory. Further, he holds that each of these three are theory determined. Thus, two men experiencing the same sense data of orange color patch moving upward through an orange tinted visual field at 6:50 a.m. Eastern Standard Time in Newburgh, New York, might observe two dif-ferent things. One operating in a Ptolemaic framework observes the sun rising. The other operating in a Coper-nican framework observes the earth turning. If each spoke of the "morning event," "morning event" would have, in a certain sense, a different meaning for each.1 Hanson often cites such theory determination of termi-nological meaning: If, in the blank pages of a next year's diary, we find the word 'fire' in the place reserved for St. Valentine's day, no action would suggest itself. Consider another man shouting 'Fire'; but now he is in uniform, hovering over a busy gun crew. Were we members of that crew, our response would be automatic . In other contexts 'fire' might herald a worker's dismissal, or the entrance of a Wagnerian soprano amid pyro-technics. It can signal a phase in the making of pottery, de-scribe how an actress reads her part, or designate some primi-tive rite . 'Fire' has, in each situation, a propositional force; it is shorthand for complex statements whose nature is clear from the contexts of utterance. We are not born able to recog-nize such contexts., for that we need education.2 X Norman Russell Hanson, Patterns o] Discovery (Cambridge: Cambridge University, 1965), pp. 7-8. 2 Ibid., p. 63. And again: When the youngster says 'lightning and thunder' he prob-ably means 'flash and rumble.' Again, a lot may follow, but what follows for him is different from what follows for the meteorologist--for whom 'lightning and thunder' probably means 'electrical discharge and aerial disturbance.' 8 ~lpplication to the question of community. In order to see the relation of this theory laden texture of terms to the present confusion among American religious, one needs to know something of the recent intellectual his-tory of religious groups. Since 1949 there has been what Thomas Kuhn would call a "paradigm shift" in religious life.4 Any comparative study of congregational constitu-tions of 1949 and 1969, of the 1949 and 1969 issues of REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, or of books dealing with the theory of religious life from that span of years, gives multitudinous evidence of this paradigm change. In this paradigm shift, the term "community" is one which has been strongly affected. It has moved from a peripheral to a central position and has acquired a new extension. This change in "community" cannot be considered in isolation from the total theory of religious life. The change in meaning actually occurred as a result of changes in other areas of the theoretic system. A change of perception concerning certain areas made for new ways of seeing many other areas. And as the whole theory changed, each specific term was affected. Having noted the theory-laden-texture of terms and the fact of paradigm change in religious life, one can now locate reasons for the present confusion concerning "com-munity." These reasons are embedded in two specific fea-tures of the theoretical change among American religious. First, the change has not been a single-stroke event. Sec-ond, the "new theory~' has not yet reached stasis. First, the change in the religious life paradigm has not been a single stroke event. It is a process event whose history can be mapped. See Figure I. Given Theory A (the paradigm at n) and the innovations (I . I5), one finds a transformation in theory during stages n+l. n+5. The first outlines of Theory B become evident at stage n+5. Most often, one thinks of the theory only at stage n (theory A) or stage n+5 (theory B) since at these stages the theory is in stasis. These two stages represent "para-digms" as Kuhn refers to them and the change from paradigm A to parad@n B is a "revolution" in the Kuhnian sense. It is a fact, however, and one at which ~ Ibid., p. 61. 'Thomas Kuhn, The Structure o] Scientific Revolutions (Chi-cago: University of Chicago, 1962), pp. 43ff. ÷ ÷ + "Community" VOLUME 29, :970 835 Theory elements oO OoOo oo\o o\ o o -o n n-'l-1 n÷2 n+3 n÷4 n-~-5 Figure ] 4. 4. 4- Kathryn Linde. mann REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Kuhn hints several times, that the intermediary stages exist.5 Now, as is normal in the innovation and diffusion o[ ideas, all members o[ religious congregations do not ac-cept theoretic innovation or revision at the same rate.e Since the acceptance of theoretical innovations is not simultaneous and universal, different individuals within the total population o[ religious may be in different ~tages of theory revision at any given time (n+l. n+5). Since terms are theory determined, such members, being at different theoretic stages, mean different things by " com~munity." Since the dynamics of any change are seldom pondered at the same time as the change is occurring, given reli-gious are usually unaware of the specific theoretic stage they are in. Further, they may not realize that theirs is one stage in a process continuing toward a new paradigm and stasis.7 Thus, one has the situation in which individ-uals will notice that there .are apparent differences in meaning concerning "community" (or a number of other ~ Ibid., pp. 84-7, 89, 128-9. e Everett M. Rogers, Diffusion of Innovations (New York: Free Press, 1968). ~Note, for example, the many expressions of conviction among religious that there will never again be a stasis in religious life or theory. terms such as prayer, apostolate, or common life) but will be at a loss to either: articulate the differences with any precision, or to explain the differences through an enun-ciation of the theory which determines their meanings. This is a major source of the confitsion concerning "com-munity" at the present time. . Second, it is not until a theory approaches stasis that all the relations among particular elements are enunci-ated with any precision. To the extent that this precision is absent, there is an inescapable vagueness about any term endemic to the theory. Most congregations have enunciated the major outlines of the new paradigm in their constitutions. Yet all refer to their constitutional documents as interim or experi-mental, and all expect to produce a more finished prod-uct in a few years. Congregations have built in a time span for working out the practical and theoretic interre-lations among various elements,s The new paradigm is not yet articulated with full precision, and so a certain vagueness concerning a key term such as "community" is inescapable. Until this full precision is reached, a certain confusion will remain in the meaning and use of "com-munity." Summary. The theory laden texture of terms proposal succeeds in answering the first query concerning the why of the present confusion about "community," whereas the indefinability proposal did not. This theory laden texture notion indicates a double source of confusion: the simul-taneous operation of multiple versions of theories within the groups and the lack of precision in the newest theory because it has not yet reached stasis. Having dealt with the first query, the study needs to move on to the next: "How is 'community' defined in the new paradigm among religious?" ~ What Is "Community"? Method. To avoid arguing some of the philosophical issues attendant upon "meaning," "definition," or "expli-cation" this paper will approach the problem a poste-riori. There will be an examination of the literature for religious to see what meaning is already established in relation to "community." From this information, there will be an attempt at precise definition or explication. The two paradigms. The general accounts of "com- S As established in Ecclesiae sanctae, au apostolic letter issued on August 6, 1966, by Pope Paul VI (reprinted iu REVIEW FOR REL~CIoUS, V. 25 (1966), pp. 939--70. ~The meaning of "community" in the old paradigm has re-ceived adequate treatment by sociologists, historians, and theo-logians. The elements of the new paradigm, however, have seldo~n been subject to collection and analysis. ÷ ÷ ÷ "Community" VOLUME 29, 1970 - 837 + ÷ ÷ Kath~ Linde- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS munity" diverge gr~eatly between the old (1949) and the new (1969) paradigms of religious life. Since a contrast often helps specify a complicated term, a general account of "community" as it appears in each of these basic theo-ries is presented first. When one studies old constitutions, those in effect in the forties and fifties, one finds: 1. The term "community" is rarely used. 2. When it is used it is capitalized as a proper noun-- denoting a particular (person, place or thing). 3. It seems to have a non-personal, "thing-like" quality common to collective nouns used in the "otherness" of the third person. 4. Sometimes the word designates a local group, while at other times it refers to an entire group. In the lat-ter instances, one mentally substitutes the word, "Congregation" or "Institute," both of which occur far more frequently in these early documents. Point four seems to strike the terminological core, for the meaning of "community" is primarily that of a hier-archical organization. Almost every sentence utilizing the Word "community" would retain its meaning if "organi-zation" were substituted. Further, the literary structure of these constitutions of the forties and fifties seems domi-nated by the organizational model. They set out goals; they cite organizational procedures for attaining the goals; and they define each person in terms of her role in the organization. They state the duties of the role (posi-tion in the organization), the prerequisites for possessing this role (be it that of an ordinary member or an officer), and the privileges of the role. The documents join a second model to that of hierar-chical organization. There is an interpersonal ideal of a familial society which is most compatible with that of a hierarcical organizational model. Officers are compared to parent figures. As such they ought to give and receive love and concern in a way which officers of an organiza-tion usually do not. Thus, in a unified model of hierar-chical- organization-family one provides an ideal for the lived situation of religious life. Newer constitutions, those of the sixties, present dif-ferent features: 1. "Community" is a common word; it appears time after time. 2. In most documents there is a definite distinction between community-as-organization and communi-ty- as-people. 3. Most, at least implicitly, deny "community" of the hierarchical organization model. "Community" de-notes, a primary group with strong interpersonal ties. This interpersonal notion is often extended to the congregation-as-community or the larger, civic, community. Although texts vary, the following is typical: Religious life is a loving community of free consecrated persons, sharing their lives, their worship, their service and their celibacy. A distinctive mark of the religious life is to be found in the fact that this living of Christ's life, this witnessing to His values, is lived corporately?° The function of a religious community is twofold. The first is to provide the climate for its members to grow to full stature as free persons in an ever deepening union with Christ, and for the sake of His Kingdom to be available to serve individually and corporately the needs of men. The second is to present a threefold witness in the eyes of the persons it serves: a living witness to Christ and His values, a sacrament of Christ's continued presence among men, and a sign of hope that community, which is the only mode of existence proper to men, can be a reality?1 When one looks for a model to explain this use of "community," one tends toward the community of scholars or St. Paul's my.stical body model. Religious community is the union of equals through interpersonal relationships. Each individual gives some service to the group: the serv-ice of authority, of information, of support, and so forth. Further the community itself is situated in relation to other communities. Religious community is always seen as a microcosm of the larger community of the Church and as such the religious community has an intimate re-lation to the People of God (Church) and the world com-munity.~ 2 Distinction. in terminology. Hence forward this paper will speak of the general account of community as found in the 1949 paradigm as "community1" and that in the 1969 paradigm as "community2". At present few religious make such an explicit distinc-tion. A single term, "community," is used for both mean-ings, although some religious are beginning to say that although both are called "community" only the 1969 paradigm expresses real community. Toward a Definition of "Community2" The term. In analyzing the common use of "community,;', one finds a distinction clearly made be-tween "having community2" and "being a community,". The latter is a wider term which necessarily includes the former. 10Sisters of the Third Order of St. Dominic of the Congregation of Our Lady of the Sacred Heart, Religious Lile: Lived Reality (Grand Rapids, Michigan: 1969), p. 4. n Ibid., p. 10. ~ Yves M. J. Congar, o.P., "The Theology of Religious Women," REv~w for RELIGIOUS, V. 19 (1960), p. 26. ÷ ÷ ÷ " ommunity" VOLUME 29, 1970 859 ÷ + + Kathryn Linde. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Having community,". The instances in which the term "having community2" is clearly applied reveal three nec-essary elements: a group of persons, united in sharing "goods," and either a resulting witness to Christian values or personal growth of some members. First, intuitions may indicate the last (witness or growth) as non-necessary, but when one discusses specific examples with members of religious congregations, one finds a hesitancy to apply "community2" to anything lack-ing a result in witness or personal growth. Confronted by an example exhibiting the first two characteristics of (1) a group and (2) sharing goods, which lacks, however, the third characteristic of witness or growth, members tend to say: "Maybe the witness or growth was really there but you didn't notice it"; or: "If there was no witness or growth you only thought you had community, but you really didn't." Hence this third characteristic is included as a necessary element for "having community2",is In pressing for precision, one finds that each of these characteristics is a term with its own range or extension: I. group of persons--extends to all persons united in groups, ranging from the smallest group of three to the largdst number so designatable. 2. sharing goods--extends to all goods, both internal and external, which can be shared by humans. In the context of "having community2" at least one internal good must be present, but any number of additional internal or external goods may be present also. 3. witness or personal growth extends to (1) all witness to Christian values and (2) all growth in personal maturity. "Having community2" is the term applied to the event which occurs when all three of these characteristics inter-sect. More formally. One may say that "x has community," if and only if: x is a group of persons; and there exists at least one y such that y is an internal good and x shares y; and either x gives witness to Christian values, or there is at least one z such that z is a member of the group's union in sharing and z grows in maturity as a result of this mem-bership. "Being a community2". When one examines the use of "being a community2" by religious, several crucial cases reveal themselves: 1. If a group "has community.o" frequently for several 18One is struck by the difficulty of making empirical observa-tions of personal growth or witness to othe,~. Yet this is how the term is used by religious. This study proposes to describe, to cite extension of terms, not to evaluate them as "true to reality," "false to reality," and so forth. weeks but then illness or work prohibits this "hav-ing community2" for awhile, no one denies the .group still is a community. All consider the non-hav-ang of community as a temporary condition which does not destroy the being-a-communi.ty of the group. On the othei: hand, all agree that an absence of "having community2" continued for a long enough period, would negate the gr9up's being a community. 2. If a group lives together for some time but shares little more than their domicile, no one designates them as "being a community2". 3. Groups experiencing two or three instances of in-tense "having-community2" are assigned a status of "being a community2" equivalent to other groups which have eight or nine experiences of community on a much lower level of intensity. To preserve these designations of being a community, this researcher proposes a function, C: frequency of having community X intensity of having communityt4 the total duration (or proposed duration) of the group All items having a C result of at least 0.3 are described as "being a community2". They fall in the extension of the tenn. Thus one can replace the externally vague term "being a community2" with the clearly defined one of "any x, where x is an item having a C function of at least 0.3." Some criticisms o[ the above analysis. There is much lacking in this whole analysis. This lack extends both to the theological and to the empirical dimensions of the discussion. First, theological aspects, for example, the cen-trality of Christ in community, are not explored in this rather philosophical approach. Yet these aspects are most important parts of the notion of community. Second, em-pirical aspects are incomplete. The method of finding the intensity of community noted in footnote 14 is inade-quate. Also, there have been no empirical studies to jus-tify, for example, the choice of 0.3 as the limit for "being a community2". Indeed, there is a lack of precise data for much of this discussion. The Task Remaining ÷+ American religious need to continue to explore this + notion of "community." They need to listen carefully to 1, The intensity of community is a function obtained by assign-ing positive integers to the elements contained in the range of each characteristic necessary for "having community.". The product of these integers indicates the level of intensity of "having com-munity.'. VOLUME 29, 1970 841 what others are saying about community and to note exactly where their statements agree and where they dif-fer. And when they find that they differ, religious need to be willing to continue the discussion. They need to find the reason for the differences. Sometimes it will be a false difference caused by incomplete communication of mean-ing. in other cases there may be a real difference. When religious reach the point of finding the exact differences, they are then keady to begin the honest dialogue common to every discipline which is alive and healthy. Out of such dialogue can come a truer understanding of '~com-munity" and perhaps a revitalization of their communal living. Perhaps, too, such dialogue will result in the reali-zation that although "community1" and "community2" have appeared as opposing theories, they are not antitheti-cal notions. They describe two different aspects of the same phenomenon. The above is an ambitious plan for religious. It is also difficult. Yet real analysis, the foe of polemic, is not only difficult it is very necessary. Emotivity makes poor theo-retic justification, and no theory can claim reasoned alle-giance if its advocates are not willing to utilize the pro-cessses of reason. Kathryn Lind¢- REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS RICHARD M. McKEON, S.J. Retirement Policy for Religious With an increasing number of people enjoying a longer span of life many religious should be alert to the fact that they too will hit the retiring age before they realize it. Yes, retirement for older religious is finally being recognized formally. To many retirement will come as a shock. They will think that they have reached tlae end of the line and that they will drift rapidly into the hereafter. It is time that all religious orders wake up to this new problem. They must have programs to acquaint their older members with all facets of what retirement means. In this respect a great deal can be learned from the world of industry where programs have been in effect for many years. Later we shall discuss some of these and try to apply their wisdom to our older religious. Superiors who are formulating programs must face this issue squarely. Why should the accumulated experience and developed talent be lost to apostolic endeavors merely because a certain age for retirement is at hand? Here is capital which should be yielding dividends. If older religious are forced to coast along waiting for Ga-briel's horn to summon them to give an account of their stewardship, that accounting will be harder to make. Time has value. Time lost is never regained: "Some secrets of the well-rounded retired life are these: make the most of what you have; wherever you are, go with your whole heart; keep your eye on what's coming up, not on what's slipping by; play your role with comeliness; do not let the minutes rust away" (Bank of Canada Monthly Letter, December 1967). It is presumed after long years in religion one has a true sense of values. Before retirement each one should assess his own possibilities and plan to achieve new goals. Many opportunities will arise to afford an active life within one's mental and physical condition. What do older religious in good health want? They Richard McKeon, S.J., teaches at Le Moyne College; Syr-acuse, N.Y. 13214. VOLUME 29, 1970 8~5 ÷ R. M. McKeon; Sd. REVIEW FOR REI~?IOU~S want to remain active and to do good as long as possible; to utilize their special talents; to receive the same respect they commanded in middle age. Rightfully they expect the functional policies and the traditions of religious life to be practiced in their regard. The older religious must be convinced of being heart-edly in earnest in what he can still do. Discouragement and difficulties will be challenges. He must have a firm resolve to carry on. If he has a reputation for special gifts, rightly may he expect others to approach him. To quote the Talmud: "If you see a man of understanding, get you betimes to him, and let your foot wear out the steps of his door." At least once a year, usually during retreat, he should make an honest appraisal of himself: "How is my health? Have I checked with a doctor? Have I reviewed my work of the past year to see what I have done well? What mistakes .have been made? What are my plans for the coming year? Have I determined to keep my mind alert, to keep feeding my mind by study so as to contribute to my up-to-dateness and the germination of ideas?" Richard Butler, O.P., warns: "Those approaching old age should prepare themselves for the trial ahead by strengthening their faith, patching up the holes in their characters, stiffening their self-reliance, developing new and sustaining interests, discovering orientations of ac-tivity that will endure and will provide some amount of satisfaction for them" (America, November 19, 1966). Good ideas can be picked up from ordinary literature on retirement. For men and women who have been highly educated and employed in apostolic work it would be better to study what is going on in the field of indus-try and business. Special research studies on retirement have been made at the California Institute of Technology, the University of Michigan, and the University of Chicago. The Caltech report suggests "a model program and a variety of ways in which it can be adapted to different company situa-tions." These studies are recommended to religious orders which are preparing programs. A digest of the program at Esso will afford some help-ful suggestions. First, changes in life expectancy are ex-plained. Then it tells how millions in the over 65 age group are non-productive but still consumers. In a word, when a worker retires, he is no longer productive to the country, profitable to the company, and useful to himself. Compulsory retirement is explained together with the benefits offered through social security and pensions. But more accent is placed on the sociological problem--how the retiree can be active, fruitful, and constructive. Esso offers help and counsel to each worker to think through his new situation. The company "feels that retirement is something earned by faithful service, a form of 'graduation' into a new phase of life rather than a 'casting out' process. Re-tirement should be the opportunity for the employee to enjoy the fruits of his labors in freedom, leisure and relaxation as well as an opportunity to serve himself, his family and his community in ways not open to him dur-ing his working career." A year before the set date group discussions are held covering topics such as health, planning for the future, what has been done, and so on. Plenty of appropriate literature is available. Each prospective retiree is pre-sented with a copy of How to Retire and Enjoy It by Ray Giles (McGraw-Hill). The Wall Street Journal frequently publishes articles on how retired executives keep busy, Their prime motiva-tion is not to make money for themselves, but to help others in trouble. Although some go into real estate and others start small businesses, many of the best become consultants as a challenging occupation. They form com-panies to give their specialized skills to small firms which need professional advice. The Mohawk Development Service of Schenectady, New York, has an excellent record of over twenty-five years. It is composed of former General Electric Company executives who have pooled their talent and experience. At Wilmington, Delaware, a similar group of Du Pont managers is engaged in a variety of projects. Charles H. Kellstadt retired as chairman of Sears, Roe-buck in 1962. At 72 in 1970 he is chairman and president of the General Development Corporation, one of Flori-da's largest land companies. He took over when things were in very bad shape. Today the corporation is most prosperous. His goal is to do a $250-million business a year. Religious orders should become a, cquainted with the International Executive Service Corps. Here is a magnifi-cent contribution which American executives are making in helping developing nations to help themselves. Its work should inspire qualified older religious to do some-thing similar to aid the foreign missions. The ISEC is a non-profit organization with headquar-ters in New York. It sends seasoned executives to counsel companies in the poorer lands. There is no salary but travel and living expenses are assured. Within the past five years a total of 1244 projects have been successfully completed in 45 countries. Optimism and the challenge of difficult problems have ÷ ÷ ÷ R. M. McKeon, $.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 846 given these men a new interest in life. They work with the native managers, not over them. Their know-how is eagerly sought. Using tact and patience they guide local managers to realize their own great potential Helping others to help themselves, who in turn will help thou-sands more, is certainly a high type of social action. Sylvia Porter in her column for December 16, 1969 paid tribute to the IESC and then put the question which might be put to older religious: "Why couldn't the con-cept be brought back home so that men and women in this age bracket work as volunteers in the ghetto and rural poverty areas of our own land?'" Our religious could make a great contribution here. "Life is only exciting when you are contributing in the mainstream." Keeping in mind what retired executives have done, let us make application to religious. First of all, those who have been superiors for a long time are still human. With a fair record of successful management, there is danger that many will regard themselves as indispensable. Every undertaker will contradict this statement. They have bur-ied too many. But to former superiors retirement does come as a shock. In industry it is maintained that compulsory retire-ment is the only way to clear out executive deadwood. Many of us know that it is a very touchy to mention possible retirement to an old superior: "Top manage-ment generally considers the subject as unmentionable as bereavement." Older religious might take a hint from the remark of a wise judge: "Retirement implies at least part of the motive power must originate in the person whose status is to be changed. Children are put to bed---adults retire." They should also remember that once the tension of their past job is over, arteriosclerosis might hit them with a stroke. Older religious should find comfort of mind if they have done their work faithfully in the past. As the time for retirement approaches, there should be no real repug-nance in letting quaIified younger people take over. If those in authority had signaled out men with executive ability and given them opportunity for training, there would be less trouble. Let us be blunt. Formerly, older people were respected, their advice was sought for, younger folk delighted to learn of their experiences. No longer in positions of au-thority, they soon find they are being ignored. Take a retiree who is removed from apostolic action which domi-nated his past life. Now assign him to a house for retirees as has been suggested. His health is still good. His mind is alert. But there is nothing to challenge it. He begins to feel unwanted, morose, and he gradually loses interest in things with which he was formerly associated. In such a state of mind death is bound to come more rapidly. In many universities and colleges religious teachers must retire when they reach the same age as set for lay teachers. Without a proper program they may be placed in isolation, as just noted, with no demand for their services. Edward F. Heenan, S.J., has written that many religious groups "have been increasingly enticed to adopt the bureaucratic business model in an effort to more effectively operationalize their goals." Retirement need not mean the end of the road. It should be accepted as a challenge. It means an awareness of the personal ability of the religious to perform, to continue .productively, and to make older life worth the living for one's self and others. Longfellow has put this Challenge attractively: For age is opportunity no less Than youth itself, though in another dress, And, as the evening twilight fades away, The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day. In the past a religious, like any other active person, got recognition and identity for the work he was doing. He could possess a just pride in his accomplishments. By the same token, when he does special work as a retiree, he should receive due praise. Many religious are truly hum-ble. Nevertheless all men appreciate recognition for any job well done. It does boost morale. On the other hand, there is the problem of rejection. To feel rejected, especially by those with whom one was closely associated, often causes a heavy strain on the nerves. It can easily make an older religious irritable and upset his health. We maintain it is a fatal mistake to put a healthy, older religious in a home for retirees. It will depress him. With nothing to challenge a once busy person he will rapidly decline in health, mental and physical. For example, if a religious has been at a college for the past ten or more years before retirement age, then we hold there is really a moral obligation to keep him as a member of the community as long as his health holds up. Why? Because to separate him from the familiar atmos-phere where he knows his fellow religious and they know him, from his friends on the faculty and from people in the local community would be dreadful in its conse-quences. It is here that he can continue to do more good than elsewhere: "Familiar things and places are priceless as we grow older--make no mistake about that." Dr. Edmund V. Cowdry, Washington University, St. Louis, an authority on gerontology, states: "More impor-tant than any other single factor is the old person's need Retirement VOLUME 29, 1970 for a community of interests. Nature seems to have or-dained that those who abdicate from life socially will soon abdicate from life physically." Where should there be a better community of interests than in the house where the religious has been living for years? Father Heenan remarks: "The closer the community approaches the communal idea of integrating and providing for the needs of every member, the more successful the aging process." A bureaucracy might be more efficient but it would tend to depersonalize and estrange the members. A mature religious should know that leisure for pleas-ure's sake alone will not bring happiness. But there is that approved pleasure which comes from doing good to others, especially the less fortunate. Instead of the deceits of idleness there can be a modified form of asceticism. There can be early rising with sincere attention to reli-gious duties. Planning for and being prudently busy with the needs of others will improve health. Two qualities will help the retirees: "They do enthusiastically .what-ever they are doing, and they get deepdown joy out of very simple things." Accordingly it is very foolish to think that retirement means the cessation of activities and merely a vegetating process. Retirement should be dynamic. One must beware of tyrannical trifles which can enslave. Too much televi-sion with its many insipid programs can mark a mental decline. In the 1955 Governor's Conference on the Aging in New York it was held that "religion is the key to a happy old age because man is essentially a spiritual and social bbing. The aged turn to religion even if they have been lax in their youth." What, then, Of men and women dedicated to God, who now have the time and conveni-ence to make up for past neglect because of distraction in the workingday world? There can be a renewal of spirit-ual life and a practice of reparation to gain grace to face bravely the reality of their new status. Since Vatican Council II changes in training have been made to meet the needs of younger religious. They have been very frank about what they need to be effective in a challenging new world. By the same token, older reli-gious should be outspoken in presenting their needs and claims. That is why at the young age of seventy-three I am writing this defense. R. M. McKeon, $.]. REVIEW FOR RELI{;IOUS 848 SISTER DOROTHY COONS, B.V.M. Life Style Study: Convent Li g This study of the pattern of religious living as it is carried out in the various convents of the Sisters of Char-ity of the Blessed Virgin Mary was undertaken as a part of a series of such studies of modern religious living that have been made in the past five years (see l~vmw for I~LIG~OUS, March 1970). The instrument used was constructed by Sister Cather-ine Leonard with the help of the other members of the Commission on Experimentation and Research, espe-cially Sister Helen Thompson and Sister Mary Kenneth Keller. The latter was responsible for processing the data on the computer. Questions Examined Four major questions gave direction to this study: To what extent do the sisters living in the traditional con-vent life style feel that this is providing them with necessary support in community living? What are the topics of concern in these convents? ¯ To what extent is there satisfaction or dissatisfaction with the life style, and what changes would be desirable in the cases where there is dissatisfaction? What are some of the general characteristics of the local communities in the areas of common liturgical experiences, in living arrangements, and in financial arrangements? Group Studied The questionnaires were sent to approximately 1800 sisters living in 153 convents. Those living in apartments and the patients in Marian Hall were not included. A total of almost 1300 sisters from 151 convents responded. According to the number of years in the congregation, the respondents fell into the following categories: ÷ Sister Dorothy Coom, BN.M., is chairman of [BVM] Commission on Ex-perimentation and Research at Clarke College; Dubuque, Iowa 52001. VOLUME 29, 1970' 849 Years in the Congregstion Number Percent 0-4 23 1.7 6.6 10-19 953 19.6 20-29 231 17.9 30-39 273 21.2 Over 40 415 32.1 $i~t~r D~rothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 850 This distribution is similar to that of the entire congre-gation with the exception of the oldest group who num-ber approximately 42% of the total. To a lesser degree the groups in the 5-10+ years differ from the general distri-bution because it is in these age groups that most of those living in apartments fall. In 49 of the 151 houses 100% of the sisters living there responded; 136 houses sent responses from more than half of the sisters; 15 houses were represented by less than half; and two did not return any of the questionnaires. Support in Community Provided by Convent Life Style Certain items on the questionnaire were included to bring out the general characteristics of "community," es-pecially those which provide mutual support for those living together. These questions and the results for both the congregation as a whole and when subdivided accord-ing to years in the congregation are given in Table I. While there are differences in the percentage responses to the positive questions, on the whole they are clearly above the 50% levels, ranging from 91.3% agreement with "Sisters seem concerned for one another" to 73.9% agreement with "Sisters like to be together" and "Com-munication among the sisters in our house is good." There is a similar picture shown by the disagreement with such negative items as "Money is a source of ten-sion" and "Communi.ty life suffers because the sisters are out doing other things." There is a surprising degree of agreement on the items that reflect a supportive atmos-phere among the various age groups. Figure 1, for exam-ple, shows that there is a high degree of agreement among all age categories on the item, "Communication is good," and that the disagreement is slightly higher among those in the 5-9 and 10-19 year group. There is also a slightly higher rate of disagreement on the part of the sisters in the 5-9 years in the congregation on the item: "Sisters plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," as shown in Figure 2. On the other hand, one of the most significant items, "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," shows fairly uniform agree-ment and disagreement in all age groups. See Figure 3. On a somewhat similar item: "Sisters like to be together," the pattern of responses is different. See Figure 4. + + + % 100 75 50 25 0 [] Agree [] Disagree O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 1. Communication is Eood. % 100 75 5O 25 O, 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 2. Sisters plan to-gether. % lOO 75 50 25 o 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 3. Sisters seem con-cerned for one another. % lOOI 75 5O 25 0- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Figure 4. Sisters like to be together. + + + Sister Dorothy REVIEW.FOR RELIGIOUS 852 The two items that would ideally be answered by disa-greement, "Money is a source of tension," and "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other.things," showed unexpected results. The similarity of the results for both agreement and disagreement as shown in Figure 5 suggests that, at least among those responding to the questionnaire, money is not the prob-lem that it is generally thought to be. Figure 6 shows a higher percentage of agreement on the item, "Commun-ity life suffers because the sisters are out so often doing other things," among the older age groups. While this might have been expected, the actual difference is not as great as could have been predicted. Topics of Concern It was hoped that areas of concern could be identified by the items that are frequently topics of discussion. These were found to cover the whole range of those sug-gested, with the following results according to frequency: % 100 75 5O 25 0 % 1 O0I 75' O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over O- 5- 10- 20- 30- Over 4 9 19 29 39 40 4 9 19 29 39 40 Years in the Community Years in the Community Figure 5. Money is a source of tension. Figure 6. Community life suffers because sisters are out so often doing other things. religious life (72%), world news (68%), house problems (68%), the Church (67%), problems of the larger BVM congregation (67%), students and their families (57%), peace and war (56%), and U.S. political issues (53%). Others were indicated as being topics of discussion by fewer than half of the respondents, with hair and clothes being in lower positions than the items of general con-cern in the world, in the country, and in the congrega-tion. Satisfaction and Dissatisfaction The question, "Given your preference, and the absence of any practical consideration that would require other-wise, would you continue to live next year under the same life style," was answered "Yes" by 947 sisters (73%) and "No" by 259 or 20%. Those who answered "No" were asked to check the form of living that they would prefer and the item most often checked was "More regu-lar daily schedule of prayer and house activity." This preference was indicated by. 138 or 10.7% of those an-swering, while the second highest condition checked was "With persons who are more congenial." The results of this section of the questionnaire were broken down in a comparison with the items that were thought to reflect "community" and the results seemed somewhat indefinite. In general, those who would prefer to remain in the same life style had higher "Agree" scores on the positive items and lower "Disagree" scores on those that were negative, and the opposite was true of those who wished to change life styles. For example, on the question, "Communication among the sisters is good," of those who would remain in the same life style, 77% agreed to the statement and 12% disagreed, while among those who would change to another life style 36% -I. + + VOLUME 29, 1970 853 ÷ .÷ ÷ Sister Dorothy REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 854 agreed to the statement and 54% disagreed. There were similar combinations of "agreement" and "disagreement" in the breakdowns of this item with "The sisters often plan together or in groups things that the whole house will enjoy," "Sisters in the house seem concerned for one another," and "Sisters in the house seem ~o like to be together." It is not clear to what extent these differences provide explanations for the desire to change life styles. There may be other explanations not touched upon by tl~is study. Characteristics of Local Communities Part I of the instrument was completed by the Com-munity Representative in each of the convents. No pat-tern of common prayer and liturgical experiences emerged. This might be due to the large number of un-answered items and to uncertainty in interpreting them. The most frequently checked item was "Celebration of the Eucharist" but the range of responses suggests that there were different interpretations to the question; for example, 25 Community Representatives checked "Sel-dom or never." This seems to indicate that there was uncertainty about whether it meant convent chapel or parish church, fora response of 100% daily celebration the Eucharist might have been expected. The rosary is still recited daily in 48 houses with an indication in 24 of them that most of the sisters attend. Vespers is said daily in 43 houses with 23 reporting that most attend. The changing pattern of prayer in the congregation is shown in Table II. Responses on the items concerning financial arrange-ments show the greatest possible variation in meeting most of the ordinary expenses. The sources include com-mon funds, personal stipend, parish, and school, and there were few items that did not fall into each of these. See Table III for items that are included, for the most part, in the three most general categories. Discussion--Interpretative Summary The study of the foregoing material and other details that were not included in the present report seem to provide a message of encouragement. It is evident that those who answered this questionnaire are, in large meas-ure, content in the convent living life style and that they feel their living situation provides them with the condi-tions for personal support that are necessary for Christian community living. A further reason for encouragement lies in the fact that, with few exceptions in the 5-19 year groups, there is no marked disagreement among the var-ious age groups in the congregation. Examination of the results of individual convents TABLE II Frequency and Attendance of Rosary and of Communal Prayer as Reported by Comraunity Representatives k,- Occ~-[Se)do=/ ~ost ~ ] Pew "__._~_~" ~ '_____~_~ s ionMl~y N eve_~_r A tten~ A tten~ 2tte2d Communal Prayerl~l~l~[~l~l~[- ~ TABLE III Methods of Meeting Ordinary Expenses as Shown by Responses of Community Representatives Common Fund Personal Stipend Both Common Fund and Personal Stipend Board/room Per capita Cook Mass stipends Gifts Insurance Spiritual reading books Household expenses Education Medical and dental Clothing Personal travel Entertainment Toll/long dis-tance telephone calls Non-prescription drugs Home visits Memberships/dues Refreshments other than meals Books other than spir-itual Carfare Use of car Professional travel showed great variation in tendencies toward general posi-tive and negative impressions. At this time, no definite score for rati

Issue 65.3 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Bei~ Religiofis ~QUARTERLY 65~3 2006 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with Godi .dialogue with ourselves, and dialog4~e with one another about the holiness we tryto live according to gts~ari~s o.f Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul VI said, our way Of being dsurcb is today tlse~, 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 Lindel] Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 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 ¯ Pontifical College Josephinmn 7625 North High Street ° Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Rdigious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, NIN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~gournalof Catholic ~piri~uality view for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Stephen Erspamer OSB "Kathleen Hughes R$CJ Louis ~nd Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.3 2006 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 coming together The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress: A Restrospective Karen M. Kennelly CSJ summarizes the thinking and the participants' interaction at the 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress held in Rome and proposes that some themes should impact local chapters and congregational meetings. ¯ Reflection and Discussion Questions 244 A New Way of Meeting . Rachael M. Harrington SNDdeN describes one carefully planned attempt to capture new life and meaning that might be incorporated into the usual chapter or congregational meeting. 226 255 meeting God Aspiratory Prayer, a Welcome Addition to Contemplative Prayer Ernest E. Larkin OCarm describes the prayer of aspiration, reviews its hisory in spirituality, identifies a few of its main proponents, and suggests ways that we might make it part of our lives. Reflection Questions Review for Religious 272 "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises Philip Shano SJ reflects upon the purpose and use of repose days within the Ignatian thirty-day retreat and raises questions for retreat directors. 283 Gerard Manley Hopkins's "Lantern out of Doors": A Contemplative Response to Loss Charles P. Farrar praises the spiritual theology of Hopkins's sonnet which describes the experience of personal loss with the metaphor of a lantern passing in the night. What first seems subjective and formulaic proves to be psychologically and theologically insightful. 293 3O4 being religious Today's Candidates: Who Are They, What Do They Expect? Raymond R. Ryan OSA allows younger members within the religious congregation to present a snapshot picture of their hopes and desires for community life and mission. These Strawberries Are Divine! Sisters and a Spirituality of Living on Earth Colleen Carpenter Cullinan provides a glimpse of the contributions of Catholic religious congregations of women in founding farms and Earth centers as places to raise organic food and educate people about the deep human connection to God's creation. Prayer / Reflection and Discussion Questions departments 319 Scripture Scope: Reading the Gospel of John 323 Canonical Counsel: Archives of Religious Communities 328 Book Reviews 65.3 2006 prisms Tintroduce the Gospel story of the Annunciation, St. Ignatius Loyola would have us picture the three divine Persons of the Trinity in dialogue about how better to accom-plish the salvation of humankind. We might describe it as the first communal discernment. The meetings that people hold when things are to be decided--meetings sometimes so contentious that they seem "eternally" long--can be seen as human strivings to imitate the wise personal planning of the Blessed Trinity. As our journal's mission statement declares, Pope Paul VI identified dialogue as a way of being church, especially in our time. Our world, with its instant communication by radio, television, Internet, and cell phone, has often taken away from us our black-and-white, simplistic judgments about who is the enemy, about who is being saved, about what other religions believe, about under-standing sexual orientations and various complex life issues, and about the cultural values of a world society. In the Old Testament's Book of Genesis, Cain's question, "Am I my brother's keeper?" has been answered definitively by our Christian faith. Jesus in giving us his one commandment allows for no wiggle room: we are to love God with all our mind, soul, and strength and our neighbor as our-selves. And loving, as all marriages and deep friendships know, takes a lot of dialoguing. We all are aware that our love of God devel-ops through a dialogue called prayer. Mthough there are many books describing some classic Re~iew for Religious forms of praying, usually drawn from the practice and example of the holy men and women preceding us, we still must make our conversation with God our own. We are not on stage, reciting lines written by some playwright. God and we share from our hearts. That is why prayer, even in its quiet moments, is always a dialogue. As in every deep human relationship, the dialogue of sharing never has an end. In fact, this signifies the promise of eternal life with God. For many of us today, meetings seem a way of life. We see it in world diplomacy, we know it in business, we par-ticipate in it in our parishes, in our religious communities, and in our neighborhood associations. Most of us desire fewer meetings, more efficiently run meetings, meetings with clearer outcomes, and meetings which bring about something better for everyone involved. For we are aware of many frustrations in communal dialogue. We have exam-ples on the international scale, on the church level, and in religious-life interworkings where dialogue breaks down or perhaps is never entered into. Just as personal dialogue with God (prayer) portends our relational life with God forever, so group dialogue in meetings, conferences, and religious chapters needs to be valued as our way of enter-ing more closely into the dialogical life of God. "Dialogue is our way of being church." We are the church. Our identity is not just in our prayer; it is lived out in the necessary human interactions of today's com-plex world. In our meetings, conferences, and religious chapters, let us work to discover how God is entering us more deeply into God's own life--a life of shared dialogue. If the incarnation is the result of our trinitarian God's meet-ing, in what ways are God and divine grace present to the world in our human meetings? David L. Fleming SJ 65.3 2006 KAREN M. KENNELLY The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress: A Retrospective coming together 230] A myriad of thoughts and images come to mind as I look back at the Congress on Consecrated Life held in Rome in November 2004: hundreds of faces, a babble of languages, colorful multinational garb, and icons of the Woman at the Well and the Good Samaritan focusing us on the congress theme, "Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity." The mixed composition of the congress made it unique. For the first time, leadership from both women's and men's congregations met in an international con-vocation to address a common agenda. Repre-sentatives of the national and international conferences of religious, groups of young religious and theologians, and editors of religious journals joined religious superiors as full participants. Karen M. Kennelly CSJ, a member of her congregation's leadership team, may be addressed at Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet; 2311 S. Lindbergh Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63131. Review for Religious A further note of uniqueness lay in the process used to prepare for, carry out, and follow up on the meeting. Preparation spanned a four-year period involving "envisioning" and "theological summary" groups. The first group sought to achieve consensus on the actual reality of religious life today by eliciting facts and testimonials from around the world. The second analyzed the collected information from a theological perspective and summarized it in a working paper sent in advance to all congress participants. We all had an opportunity to express our preferences for small-group discussions on topics drawn from the working paper. Theologians responsible for composing the paper came from Norway, Spain, France, Italy, the United States, the Philippines, and Burkina Faso. Others, from Mexico, Germany, and Peru, collaborated via the Internet. During the congress a third or "Listeners" group gathered impressions and ideas as they were expressed in papers presented by the major speakers, in written reports from groups, and in comments from the floor. This group's work culminated in a synthesis presented to the congress on the last day. My experience as a member of the Listeners group made me aware of the congress planners' painstaking efforts to be as pluralistic and inclusive as possible, achieving active participation by those present to the extent that numbers, languages, and ~ime permitted. As with the other groups, our membership comprised about equal numbers of women and men, drawn from every continent. From day to day our dialogue grew in intensity as we listened, exchanged impressions and observations, and began identifying common threads among the multiplicity of ideas brought to the floor. The principal speakers brought unique perspectives to the assessment of contemporary religious life, beginning 6~.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 232 ] with a joint paper by two Italians, Bruno Secondin and Diana Papa, a Carmelite and a Poor Clare. They invited the 847 participants, gathered at some ninety round tables and aided by simultaneous translations into six languages, to begin the adventure of immersing themselves in the themes articulated in the working paper. Dolores Aleixandre, of Spain, a Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and a theologian, brought scriptural exegesis to the congress's theme, religious life as passion for Christ and for humanity. She saw in the icons of the Samaritan Woman and the Good Samaritan "a call to center ourselves on the essential, to a different way of relating to each other, of supporting each other intercongregationally, of making room for the laity" (cited from her paper as published in Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity, Pauline Books and Media, 2005, pp. 91-125)--insights that were to be echoed frequently by congress participants in the days to come The Brazilian Jesuit Jo~o Batista Lib~nio brought a sociological and liberation-theology perspective to religious life at the beginning of the third millennium. He spoke of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience as having significance today only in relation to three elements: an experience of God, community life, and mission. He challenged us to rethink consecrated life from the bottom up in the light of contemporary reality with all its "ambiguity, perplexity, and paradox" (PCPH, pp. 127-171). The British Dominican Timothy Radcliffe asked "what signs religious life offers" in the wake of the World Trade Towers' destruction on 11 September 2001, an event he views as symbolic of the world in which religious life exists today, paradoxically bound ever more tightly together by instant communication and ever more deeply divided by violence (PCPH, pp. 173-189). How, he asked, Review for Religious can religious be a "sign of humanity's common home in God" in a world suffering a crisis of homelessness? What future awaits religious life in a world seemingly offering only a future of violence? What has religious life to offer as the culture of control and the struggle for hegemony intensify? A North American voice was heard in the person of an Immaculate Heart of Mary sister, Sandra M. Schneiders. She picked up on a topic Radcliffe had noted as fundamental but had not explored, namely, the culture of consumerism and our -:~ witness to poverty. Her reflections involved a discussion of how religious incarnate renunciation of the "world" and go about creating "the alternate world generated by the profession of the vows" (PCPH, pp. ' i '~ " ~ ' ' 191-218). Characterizing the . ~ . "' -' ~ . . religious lifestyle as one rooted in the "public, lifelong commitment of the members, as individuals and as communities, to a characteristic approach to material goods, power, and sexuality," she caught the assembly's imagination early in her talk with her arresting statement that she would discuss, not "the future Of religious life," but rather "religious life of the future." Schneiders's imaginative and theologically profound exploration of evangelical poverty as the "economy of the reign of God," and of prophetic obedience as the "politics of the reign of God," gave us much to think about as Vincentian Franc Rod6, prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL), brought the series of formal presentations to a close with a recapitulation of major .¢":t~lig!oU~ life,'in a world ~seemingly offering only ~a~tu~e ff v~ole~ce? 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 234 themes in recent papal documents such as Hta consecrata and Novo millennio ineunte (PCPH, pp. 219-2 3 6). Participants next divided into continental groups to look at sociological factors touching upon consecrated life in their own continents, noting both positive and negative effects these factors were thought to have on the capacity of religious to be passionate for Christ and for humanity. Some of the most acute observations expressed in the congress--whether from the floor during open-microphone time or in the hastily written reports-- flowed from these gatherings. As Listeners striving to perceive the essence of group contributions, we constandy had to make allowances for the great diversity within the somewhat artificial continental categories. The Europeans prefaced their report by describing it as a "communion of intentions" and "truly an exercise in European communion," given the different languages and situations in which Europe finds itself. Asians noted the vastness of their continent and its diversity of languages, cultures, religions, and political and economic systems before commenting on their many shared concerns. The Africans' preface included this in bold type: "Note: in Africa it is not possible to generalize. There is great diversity in the situations." Those from Oceania, the smallest segment of the congress, nevertheless noted the extremes they represented: countries with predominantly Western European lifestyles and countries where the lifestyles are indigenous to Melanesia and the Pacific. Only the North American and Latin American groups dispensed with such cautions and addressed directly their shared task of identifying the impact of sociological factors on religious life as they experienced it. Themes from the continental groups that seem worthy of special attention, whether for their singularity Review for Religious or their commonality, include gender issues; war, violence, and disease; globalization; aging, institution-alization, and rigid structures; and clear signs of new life among religious. Religious from every continent saw gender issues as adversely affecting contemporary religious life. Europeans referred to "the open question of gender" and felt that, "because of the sexual abuse and the impact on the mass media, consecrated life is reduced in energy and its ability to witness: a sense of desolation pervades and passion is suppressed." Asians underscored "male North Americans were succinct in ~their assertion that "the ~ ~,!sociology' within the church is-an obstacle to the passion for Christ and for humanity." domination in society and church" and "machismo and male domination" as sociological factors adversely affecting them. The African report alluded to the problem in rather oblique fashion by noting that "the idea of relations between men and women continues to be very much determined by the culture." North Americans were succinct in their assertion that "the sociology within the church is an obstacle to the passion for Christ and for humanity. The lack of inclusivity . . . results in feelings of displacement in the church, a sense of being marginalized by many, particularly in women's communities." Those from the Latin American (and Caribbean) continental group cited as important values "awareness of the processes of exclusion and the greater involvement of women." They felt they were being called to "generate a feminine 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress religious life with more involvement and responsibility for the building of a new history and a feminine consciousness-raising that challenges the machismo in society and in the church." The Oceania report minced no words in seeing as a problem the "public face of the church: powerful, antiwomen, and hypocritical." It came as no surprise that Europeans were the most forceful in pointing out the "aging of the population, the generation gap in religious life," and "rigidity in structures, even of consecrated life" as sociological factors with negative effects on religious life. In other words, they asserted that the passion of religious for humanity is blocked by the "way in which our structures are closed and in which we are closed towards the world of the laity." Less predictable was the echoing of this view by other groups. The Asians, for example, felt that institutionalization in their region had created a gap between them and the people, "especially the poor, who identify us with the rich," and that "religious structures have stifled the spirit and dynamism of religious life. The young feel restricted and their freedom hindered by structures the old always lean on." A similar concern shows up in the African report; it lists as negative aspects "the weight of tradition" and "a way of seeing authority at the level of leaders, a traditional conception which still dominates both society and religious life." This report speaks urgently of a need for reflection on consecrated life that is distinctly African, a need to find an African way of following Christ. Such thoughts question the worth of structures inherited from a colonial past. These concerns surfaced also in the Asian group, which considered it deplorable that "Asian religious have been uprooted from their rich culture." The report from Oceania, too, alluded to rigid structures when it asserted that "restorationism" in the church, Review for Religious while attracting people looking for security, has caused consecrated life to lose credibility as a radical commit-ment to justice. The Latin Americans saw sociological factors to be causes or occasions of religious being "tamed by the institution [of religious life], tired, with little hope, disenchanted, adapting, living in indifference, [possessing] little consciousness of [consecrated life's] own identity, of its own ability to search, [experiencing] great difficulty in having deep interpersonal relationships with others and with God." They offered the intriguing possibility of countering this loss of the prophetic and mystic elements of religious life by working with the "small utopias which act in favor of humanity and in collaboration with other ecclesial, intercongregational, and extraecclesial groups that search for the same reality/values/things." The impact had on contemporary religious life by war, other forms of violence, and disease was noted by every group but particularly by the Africans, who noted the prevalence of AIDS, malaria, and other diseases and the instability resulting from wars and ethnic and religious conflicts in that continent. "Violence is growing: it questions us," said the Europeans. Asians expressed serious concern over effects of war and violence, especially in the Middle East, and over the "rise of religious fundamentalism, resulting in communal violence." North Americans deplored the "normalization of violence" and what they perceived as its causes. All groups saw globalization as exerting a great influence on society and on consecrated life today. The Africans saw it--along with urbanization, unem-ployment, and migration--as contributing to poverty at various levels. They blamed it for "hindering a deep form 237 ,i 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 238 of communication" and for contributing to a lack of reflection specifically on African consecrated life. Asians saw "elitist globalization" as having destructive effects on the poor and marginalized, on families, and especially on youth. Latin Americans described "neoliberal globalization" as destroying "what is particular to/in our countries," as especially damaging to young people, and as a spur to migration, with its multiple social dislocations. Oceania observed globalization as affecting the entire region-- countries indigenous in character and countries predominantly Western European--by widening the gap between rich and poor and "elevating greed to the status of a virtue." This summary of.the continental group reports, brief though it is, suggests a major accomplishment and a major flaw of the congress. Those present heard the voices of religious from every corner of the world with a wonderful immediacy and force. On the other hand, we simply did not have time for much dialogue of a more personal kind. Each of the continental reports, however, concluded with a very provocative section on signs of hope and of new life. Groups cited a growing sense of communion among congregations and between laypersons and religious, of the importance of personal relationships, of commitment, of community and of belonging, of greater interiority along with a lessened grip of institutionalism. Europeans made the arresting statement that secularization, despite its negative consequences, is also "causing us to love the world as it is with hope." Asians remarked that our times are ripe with opportunity: "As Asians in Asia, we have our own experience of God. By this, perhaps, we can contribute to the vitality, of religious life. It is time for rebirthing our institutes with our Asian Revie~ for Religious identity." Africans saw themselves as bringing to religious life the gifts of a deep sense of God and of the family which leads to sharing and attentiveness to one another. One young African, during the all-too-brief open microphone time in a plenary session, good-naturedly scolded his European elders for perceiving death for religious life in the future, whereas their "children" from other parts of the world, hoisted on the shoulders of their European parents, can see farther ahead to future life! North Americans ventured the opinion that aging could be looked upon as "saging," an opportunity to draw new life from the wisdom of the elderly. Diminishment, they thought, provides "a freedom to reshape religious life." Participants barely had the continental group reports in hand before moving on to topical discussions in groups ranging in size from six to over a hundred, depending on people's interests: ¯ Justice, peace, and the suffering of humanity. ¯ Inculturation--the embodiment of consecrated life in a culturally pluralistic world. ¯ Interreligious dialogue. ¯ The arts: imaging and expressing a new song. ¯ Mass media and the communication of values. ¯ Liberating the prophetic: solidarity in a world of exclusion. ¯ Liberating the prophetic: celibacy and life-giving relationships. ¯ Tilling the soil of Sacred Scripture. ¯ Thirst for God and the search for meaning. ¯ Ongoing formation for personal conversion and corporate transformation. ¯ Congregational culture. ¯ Community as mission. ¯ Partnership with the laity. ¯ Leadership and authority. ¯ The ecclesial dimensions of consecrated life. Although the time allocated for these discussions was brief, each topic was based on material in the working paper 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 24:0 distributed well in advance of the meeting. Participants came prepared and were assigned their first choice among the three topics in which they had indicated interest before coming. As a result, they shared many thoughtful insights with one another; a summary appears in Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity (pp. 237-241). Those of us present for the congress received the somewhat longer reports composed by group reporters on site. Some Conclusions For me, the challenge posed by the congress was at the time and remains today one of assimilation and communication. The rich papers presented by speakers, along with participants' voices as reflected in reports by the continental and topical groups, left our table of Listeners with the nearly impossible task of assimilating content and shaping it into a synthesis at the final session. Our summary, "What the Spirit Says Today to Consecrated Life," compressed into an hour's oral delivery the reflection and discernment that had absorbed us during the entire congress. Rather than repeat that synthesis (see PCPH, pp. 243- 255), I want to share what stand out for me a year later as the two most significant messages conveyed by this unique gathering. The first is that the Spirit is at work among us today, regardless of how old or young we are as religious, no matter how old or young our congregations, and no matter whether we come from north, south, east, or west. The second is that a contemplative approach is required of the members of our congregations if we are to discern what the Spirit is saying to us at this critical moment of our history, some forty years since Vatican Council II invited religious to renew their lives in the light of the gospel, their foundational charisms, and the signs of the times. Review for Religious The Spirit calls us to revive the enchantment, the passion, we had when we first responded, as congregations and as individuals, to Jesus' call to love God and our neighbor with all our heart. The Spirit calls us to personal and institutional renewal, to inculturation and to interreligious dialogue. The Spirit calls us to an inclusive attitude toward the laity, .and this, in turn, calls for new structures and a new language expressive of the inner reality Of our consecrated life. The Spirit calls us to esteem personal relations over structure, and to develop ourselves as religious capable of loving human relationships. We are called by Jesus to be passionate and to exercise ",~ and alfenation,of any kind. compassion toward others, particularly toward all who suffer the indignities of poverty, discrimination, and alienation of any kind. The congress experience brought home to me anew that we are living through, a period of vast and deep change in consecrated life--a sort of gestation period heavy with the promise of new birth. The seeds have been planted in good ground and are being warmed and watered by the life-bearing winds of the Spirit. We have only to tend the garden and pay attention with a discerning eye to the sprouts of new life lest we uproot them as noxious weeds.before they have a chance to flower and bear fruit. 6Y.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress Our congregations are being called to collaborate with the Spirit in bringing to birth the consecrated life of the future. It was apparent at the congress---its participants a cross section of more than six hundred congregations of women and men from all over the world--that the vision, the hopes, and the sense of urgency are widely shared. The modes of discernment and dialogue will necessarily differ from country to country, depending on culture and opportunity, but the desire for intra- and inter-congregational reflection and collaboration is present among religious in every continent. As a practical matter, I would urge congregations to take advantage of their forthcoming chapters to follow up on major themes explored at the congress. Chapters are periodically convened by every congregation; agendas and processes can readily be shaped to facilitate the kind of individual and corporate reflection we need and desire. Although successful use of this option is not without difficulties, it would seem to offer .the best chance for congregations to address the congress message in a timely way, and to seek the implications of that message for themselves. Clearly there are a few obstacles to surmount if we are to facilitate contemplative chapters that make good use of the theological and sociological perspectives offered at the congress. International congregations, whose members often constitute a microcosm of the multicultural 2004 gathering in Rome, in many cases still experience subtle Western attitudes that prevent the kind of dialogue modeled by the congress. Smaller local congregations may need to push beyond parochial concerns to help members achieve a broader vision and seek greater goals. But all must beware of a tendency toward activism, the preoccupation with doing rather than being that marks our contemporary world. Review for Religious Whether we come from large or small congregations, from apostolic, monastic, or contemplative "families" of religious; whether we can trace our history back for centuries or only a few years; and whether we are Americans, Europeans, Asians, Africans, or Oceanians, we are all called by the Spirit to use the congress and our own experience as a springboard to dive into the deep pool of Holy Mystery in which we religious live and move and have our being. It is for us at this crucial point in our history to delve deeper, to listen, to reflect, to dialogue, and to discern the spiritual realities of the life and mission we share as religious, to ask ourselves how we need to be if we are to do the works of persons passionate for Christ and passionate for humanity. Suggested Reading Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity, Pauline Books and Media, 2005. Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. As I/we read the responses from the different continental groups regarding the future of religious life, which response gave me/us new insight and which response would I/we want to discuss further? 2. How can we take advantage of the "aging" of religious life members in our country to draw upon their wisdom ("saging') for our apostolic life and direction? 3. What practical steps do I/we need to take in order to adopt a more contemplative approach to listen to and follow the movements of the Spirit within our religious life context? 6Y.3 2006 RACHEL M. HARRINGTON A New Way of Meeting 244 Dissatisfaction with the timeworn chapter for-mula for the meetings of our congregation, the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur, as an international congregation of pontifical right resulted in a mandate from the 2002 chapter for us, the newly elected congre-gational leadership team, to explore new ways of assem-bling that took account of our multicultural identity. The dissatisfaction focused on the number and variety of pro-posals submitted for chapter discussion, the abundance of paper generated before, during, and after each chapter, and the dominance of the Western cultural model for meeting and discussion. Canon law offers little help. In accordance with the principle of subsidiarity, it provides for each institute the right to establish its own legislation for chapters pro-vided this falls within certain norms. Our constitutions, approved in 1989, contain several articles and directives for conducting chapters, no more restrictive, we think, Rachel M. Harrington SNDdeN is a member of the generalate lead-ership team of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur. Their address is Via Raffaello Sardiello, 20; 00165 Roma, Italy. Review for Religio~s than many, and certainly tried and tested and not lightly to be discarded. One suggestion, superficially attractive, was to separate the chapter of affairs from the chapter of elections. Our general treasurer pointed out a major flaw in this proposal: chapters are expensive meetings. So we continued to talk and dream. Our directives, or rather the traditional interpretation of them, provide for a "midchapter" meeting,, an inter-national gathering at the midpoint between chapters. Beyond prescribifig that at this time the congregational leadership and the provinces evaluate their implemen-tation of the constitutions, there are no further direc-tives. So, with some trepidation, we determined on this midchapter meeting as our chance to experiment. We decided to offer two sisters from each province the opportunity to experience a different type of gathering. We hoped to stimulate creative thinking to improve the next chapter in 2008. We began in May 2003 by writing a letter to each sister in the congregation, inviting her to respond to three questions. We based the questions on one of the constitutions from the section on chas.tity: Our celibacy, deepened and enriched by God's love and that of our sisters, bears fruit in a love which reaches beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation. It enables us to be free to go wherever we may be called in the ser-vice of God's kingdom of justice, peacei and love. We asked each sister how she felt that this constitu-tion had been realized in her life and what helps or hin-drances our community had ,given her in reaching "beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation." We encouraged sisters to respond alone or after group dis-cussion. To avoid burdening province leadership, we sug-gested that all responses be posted uncollated to the congregational leadership in Rome. We assembled an 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting We wondered how many sisters would take, the troublet~, respond to our lettel~/ and we were overwhelmed by the number Who dld).~ 246 international planning group to help us review the responses. Membership of such groups is often pre-dictable, so we made a point of inviting sisters without previous experience of working on international groups, and, instead of looking for organizational skills, we looked rather for a different order of talents. To our delight, all of the sisters whom we approached accepted our invitation. In October 2004 we met in Rome: an economist teaching in a Kenyan university, a patristic theologian from a British univer-sity, a psychologist from Peru, a theolo-gian from Congo, an artist-liturgist from Britain, a photogra-pher with poetic writ-ing skills from the United States, and a musical-artist-liturgist from Zimbabwe. On our own team we had two cultural anthropologists, from the U.S.A. and Congo, a biblical theologian from the U.S.A., an educationist from the U.S.A., and a canon lawyer from Britain. We needed to give very little thought to the selection of facilitators; we knew whom we wanted. Sister Gabrielle Stuart RSM and Sister Mary Harrington SUSC had run facilitation workshops for leadership in Rome, and we had benefited from their expertise. That they were free and willing to be with us in this experiment was a huge encouragement.1 Traditionally our chapters are held in the U.S.A. or Europe and our midchapters in Africa or Latin America. In 1998 the midchapter took place in Peru, and so we Review for Religious selected Kenya for 31 July to August 2005. We invited a British sister serving there to be the on-site coordina-tor and to attend the Rome planning meeting. We wondered how many sisters would take the trou-ble to respond to our letter, and we were overwhelmed by the number who did, almost half the congregation. Considering the many who were too old or sick, this was way beyond our expectations. We spent the first day of the meeting reading these responses, with a checHist of questions: How do I feel? What do I think? What sur-prised me? What delighted me? What became clearer? What shocked me? What insights did I gain? What ques-tions remain? Reading the responses moved us all deeply. Our sis-ters had responded sincerely, from the depths of their experiences as celibate women working for the poor in a variety of situations. Most acknowledged a deepening of their understanding of the call to religious life as they took risks and endured suffering, separations, rejections, and misunderstanding. All expressed gratitude for the years spent in the congregation and for the richness of life offered by membership in an international group. We compiled our reactions and, after much discus-sion guided by the facilitators, agreed upon a goal for the midchapter meeting: to enable participants to explore, express, celebrate, and live the goodness of God in a love which reaches beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation. Our foundress, St. Julie Billiart, bequeathed to us the charism of striving to discover and become the very goodness of God in the world, and, as we read the responses of our sisters, we realized how much this was integrated into their lives. A statement made about Julie by a contemporary cardinal in Belgium, "A spark from out the heart of Christ fell upon the heart of a woman who knew how to believe and how to love," somehow 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting 248!I captivated our thoughts as we read, and we decided to use "Sparks from the Heart of Christ" as the theme of the midchapter meeting. With the facilitators' help, we sorted ourselves into four groups: theologians, social scientists, the "fire department" (the liturgists), and the planners. We drew up questions which, as a result of our reading, we felt needed to be answered, and then we allocated tasks to each group. Everyone with a relevarit area of expertise agreed to present a paper in Nairobi on that topic to stimulate discussion. From April 2003 we spent some time at leadership meetings--held once a year on the Continent and twice a year in the U.S.A.--talking about our hopes for the meeting and encouraging the provincial leaders to choose as representatives one sister from each province who had no previous international experience and was willing to "go with the process." We also wanted one member of each leadership team to attend, so that any implementa-tion or follow-up would proceed smoothly. Although we never used the word '~delegate," and although we stressed repeatedly that this was not a chapter and not a deci-sion- making meeting, not everyone heard this. Shortly after our October 2004 planning meeting, the congress "Passioh for Christ, Passion for Humanity" took place in Rome within walking distance of our gen-eralate. As well as welcoming many of the participants to our home, we were able to access the papers on the Internet in four languages and encouraged our sisters to do likewise. Unfortunately, Internet access across the globe varies considerably, and so not all were able to take advantage of this resource. Attempting to compen-sate for this, we excerpted a couple of passages from the working paper and suggested that sisters meet in groups to discuss how they experienced the charism of our con- Review for Religious gregation in the light of their reflections on these pas-sages. We encouraged those chosen as representatives to bring the fruits of these discussions to the meeting in Nairobi. We hoped that this task would keep interest alive in the proposed meeting and enable the represen-tatives to feel that they were coming prepared. The planning group assembled in Nairobi with the facilitators on 30 July 2005, the day before the others were due to arrive. By this time we had added our gen-eral secretary and the director of our mission office to the group. We held the meeting in the Dimesse Sisters' Centre in Karen-Nairobi. Contrary to our hopes, we were unable to move in until after noon on the day we had hoped to begin. One of our biggest problems, shared by all interna-tional congregations, is that of language. We had arranged local translators for . French and Spanish, but Flemish, Italian, Portuguese, and Japanese are more difficult to provide for, especially as only relatively few sisters speak only these lan-guages. People skilled in simul-taneous translation are expensive, and we also need others who can provide necessary written trans-lations fairly rapidly. We are con-stantly learning in this area and are extremely grateful to those sisters who, proficient in two languages, generously help in translating. We mar-vel at the patient endurance of those who spend days on end listening through earphones. In social situations, as well as during the sessions, many struggled heroically to communicate across the language barriers using gestures and the few words they could manage. We provided play- 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ ~l New ~Va~ of Meeting ing cards, jigsaw puzzles, and games without words to encourage this interaction. We had invited sisters from Japan, Nigeria, the U.S.A., and Congo to help with translation and secre-tarial tasks, so altogether we numbered sixty. Every day a brief account of the meeting, composed by one of these, was sent out on our congregational Intranet in English, French, and Spanish. Access to computers was limited, but whenever they could most participants sent home enthusiastic accounts of their experiences. As we began the meeting, each province brought some "report" on their reflections about our charism; several of these were poetic or beautifully presented in visual form. During our sixteen days together we had an enormous variety of experiences, most of which involved sharing our thoughts and feelings about specific ques-tions with a sister from another culture. The facilitators guided us into these moments, which were often deep and moving, with rituals involving simple gestures, gen-tle dances, and repetitive chants celebrated around ever-changing focal points in the meeting room. As the days went on, art work created in the course of the meeting was displayed on the walls of our meeting room--pic-tures, words, designs, charts--all reflecting our moods, our perceptions of our province realities, problems we faced, questions that we raised. Over the course of the two weeks, one of our cul-tural anthropologists gave us an illuminating presentation on "unpacking culture"; the other spoke of how African myths speak of God's goodness. The theologians pre-sented talks on the goodness of God from their varied perspectives, as revealed in the Bible, in African forma-tion programs, in living religious life in Congo, and as expressed in community life in the 4th-century church. The psychologist talked on "Chastity: A Love Which Review for Religious Goes beyond the Limits." All were translated later and made available to the whole congregation. Our economist assembled three university lecturers who made brief presentations on Kenya's progress (or lack of it) towards the United Nations' millennium devel-opment goals in regard to health, education, and the environment. A fourth panelist, representing an organi-zation that works with nongovernmental organizations, spoke about the frustrations he faces in his work, where the ideal partnership between aid organizations and gov-ernments falls far short of being realized. The four stayed on for the whole morning to lead group discussions and answer questions. The sisters from each province also spoke about their ministries and tried to communicate the realities of their daily lives. Most moving were the testimonies from the war-torn Democratic Republic of Congo and from Zimbabwe. When we had afternoons off, those who wished were taken in small groups to visit various pro-jects in housing and employment, schools (including the famous Starehe boys' school and its newborn sister school for girls), and the homes of people from Saint Mary and Joseph's, the parish where some of our sisters live and work. Other optional outings were to a safari park or to see Karen Blixen's (Isak Dinesen's) home, famous from the film Out of Africa. Two of the most memorable excursions were for Mass. On the first Sunday we went to Saint Mary and Joseph's, where we were welcomed in truly memorable fashion by the parish priest and by the "mother of the parish," who told us we were all their daughters. The dancing was led by small girls all attired in snowy white tee shirts advertising U.S. baseball teams. The choir was amazing and untiring, and the packed church sang along and swayed and clapped throughout the three-hour cel- 6Y.3 2006 Harrington * A New Way of Meeting ebration. The ladies of the parish had prepared dinner, so we moved the benches around to form tables and sat down to a lavish feast of beef stew, rice, and beans. On the second occasion we were hostesses to those who came to celebrate with us the opening of our novi-tiate in Langata, Nairobi, our fourth in Africa, and a real benchmark in the history of the province. We sat outside under awnings during the Mass celebrated by the bishop; afterwards the house was blessed and a flame tree planted. The meal, prepared outside in huge pots over open fires, was enjoyed by all. In the last days of our meetings, we focused on ques-tions that had arisen during our sharings, and we brain-stormed about how to prepare for the next chapter. During the closing In the. last~ days,(~our'tneet.in~s;~rz-~ we focused on"questio~.~ ~ . h.'afl:~[ ["~ arisen duringour shariftgs, ' and we brainstormed about how, to prepare for the°ne~.t:chapt~e~(.i~ to women after any meeting. We reverently and ceremoniously placed these artifacts on the floor around the centerpiece a mock fire, built around a candle, with sparkles scattered about. Then we were all invited to collect a prayer card and some sparkles and to light a candle from the cen-tral flame. To do this we had to walk toward the center and then away, through the spread-out paintings, pic-tures, charts, designs, and pre.sentations~a sort of sym-bolic acceptance of all that had taken place and been ritual we thanked all planners and participants. We removed the vari-ous artifacts we had displayed on the walls, per-forming the clear-ing- up ritual that is traditionally left Review for Religious shared over the previous two weeks and a commitment to carry the experience home. At the beginning of the meeting we had been reminded that in this meeting no decisions would be taken: we were there to experience what it means to belong to an international, multicultural, multilingual congregation. Nonetheless, some few in their evalua-tions expressed wonderings about the apparent lack of an agenda. We knew this was a risk. There was general dissatisfaction with the three celebrations of Mass which we had together during the meeting days--not the Sundays. Bringing in clergy, out of touch with what we were experiencing together, was felt to be artificial and awkward. Communion services led by ourselves might have proved more meaningful. Some found the days long and tiring. Most wrote that this had been a life-changing experience, creating bonds across cultures and languages, inspiring hope, and providing memories to last a life-time. The deep exchanges about cultural differences gave all of us new perspectives. Throughout we had been dependent on our two facil-itators, whose style pleased all but three of those pre-sent. Every day began with a review of the purpose of the meeting, of our hopes and concerns, and of the val-ues and behaviors we intended to live by during the meeting. After the morning ritual, there was a report on the questions raised, the previous day. At day's end we gathered in our "home groups" (the same multicultural group for the entire meeting), shared our day's experi-ences, and arrived at issues or questions for the coordi-nating committee to resolve. This committee, five members of the original planning group, met with the facilitators each day for forty-five minutes after the evening ritual, discussed the matters arising from the home groups, and planned the next day. When we eval- 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting uated our work, we realized thatthere were things we could have done differently and better. We had learned from our experience and from the feedback---another purpose of the meeting realized. The big anxiety of all present was how to communi-cate the fruits of the meeting to the sisters at home. We had papers and photographs, but these were two-dimen-sional, having meaning mainly for the participants. Carrying home fragile "sparks from the heart of Christ" challenges each of us to a new way of being, of believing, and of loving so that the sparks will ignite others and kindle new flames to spread the awareness of God's good-ness in all the events and circumstances of our lives. Note ' They can be contacted at GLOIR; 27 Catherine Street; Newry, Co. Down; BT35 6JG, Northern Ireland. E-mail: gloirinstitute@btopenworld.com Glass It's as if Benedict's single ray of light is scattered across the tables like loose jewels or a broken mirror. We sweep and pick through trays of glass, sharp bits of orange and yellow with a blue that's almost black until I hold it to the light, and I am full of a temporary completeness. Even the thunder seems gentle. Alicia Kleiman OSB Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN Aspiratory Prayer, a Welcome Addition to Contemplative Prayer Aspirations (aspiratory prayer) were a treasure in' European Christianity in the late Middle Ages and one of the great legacies of the Touraine Reform in 17th-century France. This reform took place in "les Grands Carmes," the popu-lar name in France for the Carmelites of the Ancient Observance (OCarm). The style of prayer that goes by the name of aspirative or aspiratory prayer, or simply aspiration, is almost unknown in contemporary spirituality. The pre-sent article is a move to fill this lacuna and to suggest how the prayer of aspirations can con-tribute to the contemplative renewal of our times. I will first give an overview of the prayer in tradition and highlight its three outstanding proponents: the 13th-century Carthusian Hugh of Balma, the Franciscan Henry Herp (+1477), and the Carmelite John of St. Samson (1571- Ernest E. Larkin OCarm last wrote in our 64.4 issue (2005). His address remains St. Agnes Catholic Church; 1954 North 24th Street; Phoenix, Arizona 85008. 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspirator)/Prayer 1636). Finally I shall make some suggestions on how to revive the practice. What Is Aspiratory Prayer? Aspiratory prayer is a warm, human approach to God that is inexorably affective. It proceeds by way of fer-vent desires of the heart. It was considered a shortcut, a direct route, to intimacy and oneness with God. Its struc-ture is simple: frequent and intense desires breathed out to God. It has only one goal, union with God, so it ceases to have a role when mystical union is achieved. Aspirations are not the same as ejaculations, though they are like each other. E aculatory prayer.describes any to this prayer? ,.:Those and all brief prayers sent like darts to heaven for help, thanksgiving, adora-tion, or any other good motive. "My Jesus, mercy" is an ejaculation. Aspira-tions are only and always passionate desires or fer-vent acts of love of God. They are expressed in words or sighs or silence. "My God, I love you" is an aspiration. To aspire means to breathe out, with the con-notation of breathing hard after something. In aspira-tory prayer one breathes out heartfelt desires for God. It is yearning for God, like gasping for God. Aspiratory prayer is simple and focused, though in the beginning it may cover a wide sweep of emotions and feelings. Practice simplifies and unifies the faculties to give them a single thrust, much as the prayer of sim-plicity consolidates the multiple affections of affective prayer into a single attitude of loving presence. Aspiratory prayer sets the heart on one goal, divine Review for Reli~io~ union, and is a positive step in that direction. Not every-body can use it. It is not for beginners, but for those who have come to know God and themselves through Bible reading, reflection, and loving conversations with God. When a person has put her house in order and has come to love God in truth, she is ready for this prayer. For those who love God, it will become as natural as breathing. Catholic teachers in the past were sticklers in assign-ing different prayer forms to different stages of growth. The prayer of beginners was discursive meditation and affective prayer, that is, first much thinking and ~hen many affections. The next stage was contemplative, and it featured forms like simply looking at the tabernacle as in the Cur6 d'Ars' "I look at him and he looks at me," or today's resting in God in centering prayer, or saying the mantra as in Christian Meditation. Today we prob-ably pay less attention to the degrees of prayer, though we still honor them. Centering prayer and Christian Meditation have democratized contemplative prayer. Certainly some knowledge and love of the Lord is pre-supposed for contemplative prayer, but a little knowl-edge and love go a long way. Those who are comfortable with centering prayer and Christian Meditation will be at home with aspirations. Who, then, are called, to this prayer? Those who are fervent and serious about their relationship with God and have a great desire for intimacy with God. They are look-ing for the "more." The classical teaching placed the prayer in the illuminative way as part of the contempla-tive life. Two categories are involved here, and both are second stages: the illuminative comes between the purga-tive and the unitive way, and the contemplative life between the active and the mystical life. The three divi-sions correspond to beginners, the proficient, and the 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer perfect. Active life has to do with external behavior, con-templative with inner prayer, and the mystical life with high sanctity. The purgative way is concerned with con-version and purification, the illuminative way with enlightenment, and the unitive with union with God. The three ways and their content are criticized today for being too dependent on Neoplatonic philosophy, the system that canonized the immaterial and denigrated the bodily.' Aspirative prayer rises above this controversy and in fact is a corrective against exaggerated spiritual-ism and minimizing the physical and bodily in the spir-itual life. Aspirations welcome and embrace the emotional and the sensible; these human qualities lead to the highest realms of the spirit. They move the experi-ence of God away from the intellectual and into the realm of affection and love.2 Aspiratory prayer comes out of the same tradition as centering prayer and Christian Meditation. The latter two are contemporary constructions from that contem-plative tradition, a development that aspiratory prayer has yet to find. But all three systems appeal to the same sources, the same authors, and even the same texts for their grounding and justification.3 This fact and their constant location in the middle stage of spiritual devel-opment argue to their commonality. Centering prayer and Christian Meditation seek silent presence and quiet resting in God. At the same time they are active prayer, rightly called meditation of a nondiscursive or contemplative type. They are not clas-sical contemplation in the sense of infused prayer, but are products of human effort and ordinary grace. Aspiratory prayer is obviously active in the same sense. It uses the language of intense, passionate love and expresses the yearning of the heart and delights to rest in the Lord. Review for Religious Aspiratory prayer is more than loving conversation with God. It expresses a strong act of the will that desires to experience God. So it is more than a t&e-a-t&e, even in the loving language of affective colloquy. The differ-ence is intensity. Affective prayer engages the feelings but in a diffuse way, whereas a strong will and urgent longings for intimacy dominate aspiratory prayer. Aspirations fit nicely into the perspectives and prac-tice of "love mysticism," which is a form of relating to God in spousal love. The language of spousal love is very human, amorous, and passionate. Its biblical source is the Song of Songs or St. John's Gospel, and it is a fre-quent feature in medieval women mystics and also in writers like St. Bernard or St. John of the Cross. Janet K. Ruffing has written a guide for the spiritual direction of those called to this way. She gives many examples of its language, one of which is the following conversation in Mechthild of Magdeburg, who says to God: "God, you are my lover, / my longing, / my flowing stream, / my sun, / and I am your reflection." And God replies: "It is my nature that makes me love you often, / for I am love itself. / It is my longing that makes me love you intensely, / for I yearn to be loved from the heart. / It is my eter-nity that makes me love you long, / for I have no end.''4 Aspirative prayer is not limited to spousal love. It is at home with a nonspousal love of God, which Janet Ruffing calls simply apophatic. The mysticism of the more matter-of-fact Cloud of Unknowing features whole-hearted love, often without obvious passion. In this lat-ter case the love is sublimated into disinterested love in a style of relationship that is reserved and controlled. Mystics in this pattern will practice their own brand of aspirations. Aspiratory prayer is thus a technical term, but it is not "one size fits all." Its normal form is sensible-spiri- 6~ .3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratorg/Prayer 260[ tual love. For Henry Herp only this love qualifies as aspi-ration. For him its follow-up, which is pure spiritual love, is not aspiration, but unitive love. John of St. Samson, however, treats pure spiritual love as a form of aspiration, and for him this higher aspiration leads one into the furnace of God's love in transforming union. For both authors the will is the driving force for aspira-tions and for unitive love. In sensible-spiritual love the sensibility is the carrier, but the momentum comes from the will, which makes the love truly spiritual. Do not think that the practitioner lives on a perpet-ual high. The expression Of loving desires for God con-tinues in down days and dryness as much as in times of sweetness and sensible consolation. The feeling element is still there. It must be genuine, not faked or pretended or forced. Th~r~se of Lisieux is a perfect example of the expression of passionate desires of love for God in the darkest moments of life.5 There are degrees of the practice corresponding to the person's habitual love of God and the grace of the moment. John of St. Samson sees it as leading directly into a mystical expression, in which the Holy Spirit breathes out enflamed desires for God. His conditions for practicing this prayer are demanding. Persons who take up the practice must be mortified, humble, and self-effac-ing as well as robust in health. In his view aspirations go beyond the enthusiasm of a newly baptized Pentecostal or charismatic and belong to persons advanced in the love of God and on fire for the summit. The History and Theology of Aspiratory Prayer Aspiratory prayer flourished in the late Middle Ages in northern Europe, especially the Rhineland and France, from the 13th to the 17th century. At the time of the Touraine Reform, the practice was common in popular Review for Religious religious culture. Aspirative prayer appealed to the archi-tects of Touraine because they saw the practice as dove-tailing with their view of the goal of the Carmelite order, which was to live continuously in the loving presence of God.6 Intimations of aspiratory prayer are found in the New Testament, in St. Augustine and John Cassian, who were contemporaries, in St. Benedict and Guigo II, and in other early authors. The first to give aspirative prayer a central place in the spiritual life was Hugh of Balma, whose Tbeologia Mystica exerted wide influence, partly because it was thought to be the work of St. Bonaventure. Hugh of Balina taught the way of the heart, and aspira-tory prayer was its chief expression. First one must know one's weak self and the goodness of God, since anyone filled with self is unable to yearn for God. This knowl-edge prepares one to rise up to God in "anagogic con-templation." Anagogic contemplation means moving from crea-ture to Creator, from the text of Scripture to the living God, enflamed with desire and love. Such is aspiratory prayer. The love is both natural-spiritual and purely spir-itual, and God is the direct object. The love increases with the simplification and unification of the faculties until ultimately there is mystical union with the Trinity in the high point of the soul called the apex mentis. Henry Herp and John of St. Samson will pick up on these per-spectives and expand them with the help of Jan van Ruusbroec's theology (1293-1381). Hugh had many imitators, especially among the Carthusians, who promoted and developed this teach-ing so effectively that Everard Mercurian, an early gen-eral of the Jesuits, warned the Society about "the Carthusian method of prayer" for fear that its popular-ity would marginalize Ignatian prayer in Spain.7 The 6Y.3 2006 Larkin * Aspiratory Prayer 14th-century anonymous English text The Cloud of Unknowing is likely a Carthusian document, both because it can easily be interpreted as a full exposition of aspira-tory prayer and because its anonymous author may well be .a Carthusian.8 A number of familiar quotations from the book are obviously formulas of aspiratory prayer. Henry Herp OFM (+1447) Henry Herp wrote the first synthesis of the whole spiritual journey around the topic of aspirative prayer. His map is the structure of the soul as delineated by the great Flemish mystical writer Henry Herp wrote the first synthesis'of the~ around the topici of ~aspirativ~ prayer. : ~ o o Jan van Ruusbroec. The soul is three concentric circles, each of them representing a different level of human activity. Herp offers a detailed plan for moving through the outer two levels and arriving at the inner circle of highest union with the Holy Trinity. He lays down instructions for each of the phases of the journey, but his chief contri-bution is to show how aspirative prayer moves one through the middle circle. Ruusbroec calls the three circles "spheres" or "uni-ties," whereas Herp names them mansions or dwelling places like Teresa of Avila. The first is the region of the senses, the second that of the spirit, and the third the "fond" or ground, the dwelling place of the Holy Trinity. One must traverse each level to get to the center, and the way is introversion, a concept that goes back to St. Augustine. Herp calls it "ascension." Persons "ascend," that is, they are lifted up by a sweeping action that carries them through the given circle and toward Review for Religious the center; the searcher for God leaves behind the lesser level or part of it in favor of the higher one. This process of introversion means making the powers on each level converge toward the center. The activity of each level is collapsed into the next step. In this imagery the outer circle of exterior behavior is introverted into the mid-dle circle, and in the middle the lower faculties of the irascible and concupiscible appetites, and of reason and free will, are introverted into the spiritual faculties of intellect, memory, and will. These latter will finish the task and bring the soul into mystical union in the center. The introversion or ascension starts with the outer or exterior circle, which represents the active life. The means set down by Herp for this first introversion are "truth and compassion." Truth means understanding the goodness of God and the bankruptcy of the human, and compas-sion is appreciating God's love and attractiveness. The middle level is the field for aspiratory prayer and unitive love. Aspirations address the "interior infe-rior powers," especially the concupiscible appetite, which in Herp's view has a spiritual quality about it. Unitive love is exercised by the spiritual faculties. Understanding guides the process: hence the importance of regular med-itation and of the use of prepared ejaculations that recall the supreme attraction of God and serve to inflame the soul with love. The awakened will moves the sensory faculties to yearn for God, progressively spiritualizing the person for the work of unitive love, For Herp, uni-tive love takes over the task begun in the lower interior faculties. The acts of pure, unitive love finish the task of the introversion of the spirit level and open the way to the center. In the center the love is fruitive love. The contemplative way is left behind, and the soul now lives the "super-essential life" of oneness with the Trinity, a union that is not ontological but psychological. ¯ ,263 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer Herp offers some good pastoral advice. The stages are to be addressed in order and none can be skipped. Basic conversion is presupposed for undertaking aspira-tory prayer, and that means an adult knowledge of God and one's self and the acquisition of the moral virtues. Aspiratory prayer begins with rote expressions of love and fervor. According to Herp, these feelings crescendo into what he calls an explosion of love, which has its own danger of entrapping the person in the delightful, sen-sible sweetness. The love is gradually purified and becomes the unitive love that will lead the soul into the center. Unitive love too undergoes its own purifications, and the follow-up experiences may be as dark and dry as the initial entry was exalted. The challenge at this point, as at every point in the spiritual life, is marginal-izing the self, that is, letting go of everything that is not God. The holy soul practicing spiritual love will con-tinue to work at the total gift of self to God, and its tasks are listed by Herp as self-offering, searching for God's will, letting God's love destroy all defects, and being united with God. John of St. Samson (1571-1636) John of St. Samson is an immensely important figure in the Carmel of the Ancient Observance. He was a mys-tic of profound experience, and, in spite of the blindness that afflicted him from the age of three, he was well edu-cated and well read, keeping in touch with currents of spirituality in the very rich 17th century. He has been called the French John of the Cross and is highly esteemed by religious historians like Henri Bremond and Louis Cognet. John of St. Samson lived a century and a half after Herp, but Herp's work was well known to him in the numerous Latin and French translations and in the Review for Religious plethora of spiritual writings that popularized aspiratory prayer. John of St. Samson became expert in the teach-ing of this way, building on Herp but adding his own points of view. There had been a lot of writing, but lit-tle development since Herp. After a careful comparison of the two authors, Canisius Janssen concludes that John's doctrine is Herp in a new packaging. "Certain things have been left out," he writes, "others developed; in short the whole has acquired a new face.''9 John belongs to the same Dutch school of mys-ticism as Herp, both of them appropriating the worldview of Ruusbroec. We come from God as created images in the Uncreated Word, and our life goal is to return to our place in the Word in full consciousness of our unity in God. The goal is put I ," bY engaging oi r feetings t " : and iemo.tions. I as well as'our spiriL rather abstractly as "the state of consummation of the subject in the Object" in a "union without difference or distinction." Such is the transforming union, in which the soul is caught up in the fire of the divine life. The way to the goal is introversion according to the same divisions as in Henry Herp, but with the adaptations in nomenclature. John is particularly eloquent is explaining how spir-itual love guides the whole process of introversion once aspirations become the way. Spiritual love is at the heart of sensible-spiritual aspirations, and it constitutes the spiritual aspirations that lead one into the center itself. Aspirations have the genius of putting our full humanity to work by engaging our feelings and emotions as well as 6~.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspirator)/Prayer 266 our spirit. Sensible love is the starter, and it houses the spiritual love in sensible-spiritual aspirations. When the aspirations become "more vigorous, more on fire, and more detached from sense," they are pure spiritual love. This spiritual love, with or without a sensible compo-nent, is the engine that drives the introversion process into the furnace that is God. Aspiration thus has a mystical quality in John, as is clear from the following quotation: Aspiration is not only an affectionate colloquy. ; that is what aspiration is born of and comes forth from. Aspiration, then, is an outpouring of the whole heart and spirit on fire with love. By it the soul quickly tran-scends itself and all of creation, becoming intimately united with God in the intensity of its loving expres-sion. Expressing itself quintessentially in this way, the soul transcends all tender, sensible, cerebral, and com-prehensible love, reaching by the vehemence of God's spirit and its own effort, not just any divine union, but a sudden transformation of its spirit into God. In the abounding and ineffable sweemess of God him-self lovingly embracing one's spirit, it transcends, I say, all familiar and intelligible love. This is the essence of aspiration, in itself, in its cause, and in its effect.1° Heart (that is, the sensibility) and spirit (that is, the loving will) are the framers of aspirations, and heart even-tually recedes in favor of pure spirit. In the beginning there will be multiplicity of thought and feelings, but with growth this richness will give way to ever increas-ing simplicity and a state of pure elevation in God. Intensity is of the essence, since only strong love can break the attachments of the faculties to their natural objects. Frequency is a necessary quality, since the goal is to make aspirations like second nature, as natural as breathing. Humility too is the essential underpinning of all true love. But in all these efforts balance and moder-for Religious ation must prevent any violence or excessive force. John of St. Samson, experienced spiritual director, has good advice on how to begin and how to grow in this beauti-ful practice, and his reflections will help us put our topic in perspective. Who are candidates for this prayer? The prayer is not for everybody. It is not for intellectuals or for shal-low people who live on the surface of things and whose fire burns up quickly like straw. It is for generous souls of strong will who are concerned about their interior life. When to begin? Brother John sees aspirations as a higher form of prayer; hence he is hesitant to promote it indiscriminately. Aware of the dangers of too much emo-tionality as well as its necessary predispositions, he coun-sels against beginning the prayer prematurely. Strain and force must be resisted lest there be physical or psycho-logical harm. It is necessary to guard against a too san-guine assessment of one's love of God. The apostle Peter felt a great love for Jesus that led to presumption and his denial of Jesus in the courtyard. John's basic condition for the practice is a mortified life. He fears the unguarded attraction of the sweetness of this love. So he writes: "To begin this exercise it is absolutely necessary to die to ourselves, to humble ourselves, and to be self-effacing (mepriser)."llJohn is probably thinking of his own novices and their year of novitiate whenhe writes that candi-dates for this prayer should have spent "a good year" in discursive meditation and affective prayer before taking up aspirations. He also warns newcomers that begin-nings will be troublesome, even painful, but practice makes perfect and easy. The process of introversion follows Herp detail for detail. Like Herp, John of St. Samson is lyrical in his descriptions of the outcome of introversion, which is 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer entrance into "the marvelous effects and the spiritual inebriation" of touching the fond or ground of one's being, where the Holy Trinity dwells and the essential union with God takes place. This mystical state is trans-formation in the fire that is God. Aspiratory Prayer in Contemplative Life Today It remains to suggest ways in which this body of teaching can be put into practice in today's contempla-tive setting. A first step, and one that is often presented in the literature, is to connect aspirations with the practice of the presence of God. This means to murmur aspirations frequently during the course of the day to remind one-self of the presence of God and to offer up the present task. This is one application in The Carmelite Directory of the Spiritual Life by John Breninger OCarm and in the works of his student Kilian J. Healy OCarm.~2 A second application is to introduce aspirations into one's daily meditation in whatever form that takes. This will be an affective addition in the nondiscursive medi-tation of Christian Meditation, which features the mantra "Maranatha." The mantra itself could be the vehicle expressing love and desire. Bringing aspiration into cen-tering prayer may be a bit more difficult, since this prayer eschews thinking and emoting. Aspirative prayer may be disruptive of the silence of centering prayer. Perhaps aspirations that are expressed without words and in silence can be a friendly addition and add warmth and fervor to centering prayer. A third way to practice aspirations in one's daily prayer is to structure it much like the two disciplines of contemplative prayer. Periods of aspiratory prayer could be cultivated each day, twenty minutes to a half hour in length, with the whole time given over to aspirations. Review for Religious The aspiration could be a mantra, one phrase repeated over and over again, or it could be spontaneous expres-sions of love and desire. The single mantra may be more compatible with the contemplative nature of the prayer than multiple expressions. Whatever the exact structure aspiratory prayer will take, it will usually be prefabricated and perfunctory in the beginning. But it soon becomes part of one's approach to God in mental prayer. Hopefully it will bring the rich rewards promised by the tradition. Notes ~ Philip Sheldrake, Spirituality and History (New York: Orbis Books, 1995), pp.186-189. 2 Aspiratory prayer is more at home with the language of love than with the Greek categories of contemplation. The literature of the Touraine Reform seems to prefer the evangelical language. One of my esteemed Carmelite teachers and mentors over a lifetime, whose life and studies were dominated by Touraine, frequently showed annoyance at the ambiguities of the vocabulary of contemplation. He preferred to speak of "love" and "loving" as the true measure of prayer rather than dif-ferent forms of "contemplation" or "contemplative." Instead of describ-ing Carmelite life as "contemplative," he preferred the simple word ,prayerful." I interpreted his attitude as a reflection of the viewpoint of Touraine. 3 Canisius Janssen OCarm surveys the sources of aspiratory prayer in the first of two excellent articles on the history and theology of aspira-tory prayer, "Oraison aspirative chez Herp et chez ses pr~d~cesseurs," Carmelus 3 (1956): 19-48. It lists the sources of this prayer in earlier times before its first major exponent, Henry Herp. These sources turn out to be the same texts cited in studies on the roots of centering prayer and Christian Meditation. An example of the latter is Robert W. Ginn's defense against critics, "Centering Prayer: Reviving the Ancient Christian Tradition in Modern Times," a manuscript dated 5/26/05 and circulated by Contemplative Outreach. Janssen's second article is titled "L'oraison aspirative chez Jean de Saint Samson," Carmelus 3 (1956): 185-216. I wish to express my gratitude for these two studies and my indebtedness to them in the formation of the present paper. 4 Spiritual Direction: Beyond the Beginnings (New York: Paulist, 2000), pp. 9-10. Christian mystics from Origen on applied the imagery of the Song of Songs to their relationship with God. St. Th~r~se of Lisieux 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer belongs to this group, and a dominant feature of her prayer was aspira-tion. See Romero de Lima Gouvea OCarm, "Vivre d'amour: la pri~re aspirative chez Th~r~se de l'Enfant Jesus (1873-1897)," Carmelus 47 (2000): 19-40. s See Ernest E. Larkin OCarm, "The Little Way of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux," Review for Religious 59 (September-October 2000): 507-517, at 514-515. 6 The Touraine Reform is not as well known as its counterpart, the Discalced Reform begun by St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross in 16th-century Spain. Touraine began in Brittany in northwest France in the next century. Like the Discalced Reform, it was a radical return to the primitive spirit of the order. Unlike the Discalced Reform, Touraine did not become juridically separated from the old order, but remained in the trunk and spread to every province as the "strictior observantia." See Kilian J. Healy OCarm, Methods of Prayer in the Directory of the Carmelite Reform of Touraine (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 1956), pp. 15-2 i. 7Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 27. s This is the conclusion of James Walsh SJ in his introduction to the Classics of Western Spirituality edition of Tbe Cloud of Unknowing (New York: Paulist, 1981). 9 Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 210. ~°Jean de St. Samson, L'dguillon, les flammes, les fl~cbes, et le miroir de l'amour de Dieu, in Oeuvres completes I, edition critique par Hein Blommestijn (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 1992), p. 98. Aspiration donc n'est pas seulement un colloque affectueux. ; c'est d'icelui que nait et procede l'aspiration. Aspiration donc est un poussement amoureux, enflamm~ de tout le coeur et l'esprit; par lequel l'ame surpasse pronte-ment elle mesme et toute chose cre~e, s'unissant ~troitement ~ Dieu en la vivacit~ de son expression amoureuse; laquelle ainsi .Essentiellement exprim6e, surpasse tout amour sensible, raisonnable, intellectuel et con-prehensible; arrivant par l'impetuosit6 de l'esprit de Dieu et de son effort, ~ l'union de Dieu, non tellement quellement, mais par une soudaine transformation de l'esprit en Dieu. L'esprit, dis-ie, surpasse en lui m~me tout l'amour connessable et intelligible en l'abondante et ineffable suavitd de Dieu mesme, auquel il est amoureusement englouti. Voila que c'est que l'aspiration Essentielle en elle m~me, sa cause et son effet. (The passage is cited by Janssen in the article on John of St. Samson, p. 195. The translation has been made from the text in the c.ritical edition cited above.) li Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 204. 12 The translation of the Directorium Carmelitanum was made from the Latin by Leo J. Walter OCarm (Chicago: Carmelite Press, 1951). See Review for Religious also Kilian J. Healy, Walking with God (New York: Declan X. McMullen, 1948), reprinted as Awakening Your Soul to the Presence of God (Manchester, New Hampshire: Sophia Institute Press, 1999); see also his chapter in Methods of Prayer, pp. 60-75. Reflection Questions 1. What have I learned about aspiratory prayer as I have read Larkin's article? 2. How might I begin to make aspiratory prayer a daily part of my prayer life? Growing Old The new hearing aid magnifies sounds I've not heard for years and discover I haven't missed. It is not my ears that hear the call to live the soul's desire. I can see tiny print with trifocals but not the messages in everything. I can no longer storm heaven's gates, have lost the need to do so. I am learning to wait gracefully with gratitude for them to open from inside. I am preparing to accept the invitation to eternity. "Growing old" begins with growing. Bonnie Thurston 6~.3 2006 PHILIP SHAN0 "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises A few words by St. Ignatius Loyola in the Contemplation of the Kingdom of Jesus Christ (§§91-98) have been .understood to refer to "repose days." 1 Ignatius says, "This exercise [the kingdom] should be gone through twice during the day, that is, in the morning on rising and an hour before dinner, or before supper" (§99).2 George E. Ganss SJ describes this day as "a transitional day of relative repose with only two peri-ods prescribed." 3 It is Ignatius's introduction to the rest of the retreat. In a note Louis Puhl SJ says Ignatius's words show that the "kingdom" day is a "day intervening between the First and Second Weeks.''4 In this study we will look at the historical roots of the contemporary notion of repose days in the hope of raising some ques-tions for spiritual directors to discuss in their planning of Twentieth Annotation (thirty-day) versions of the Spiritual Exercises. Philip Shano SJ is novice director and superior at the Jesuit Novitiate of the North American Martyrs; 1035 Summit Avenue; St. Paul, Minnesota 55105. Review for Religious An early historical reference to a repose day comes from the directory of Father Juan Alfonso de Polanco, Ignatius's secretary. Polanco's directory, completed years after Ignatius's death, is generally considered the finest of those which preceded the official Directory in 1599, pre-sumably because of his closeness to Ignatius. Polanco says of this day during the retreat: "When it is time for the exercitant to move on, he should be allowed to catch his breath by giving him the meditation on the kingdom of Christ to be made twice, once in the morning and once in the evening. On that day nothing else should be given. Then, toward evening, he should be given the exercise on the incarnation to be made the next day at daybreak.''5 Note, the retreatant "should be allowed to catch his breath." Similar words are used in later directories--"as he catches his breath for a bit.''6 An anonymous direc-tory dating from the 1580s speaks of the retreatant tak-ing "a rest from his exertions until evening.''7 The directory of Father Gil Gonzfilez Dfivila, from about 1587, says the retreatant "should rest., without being given the usual load of exercises. He may, however, occupy himself with some easy meditation suited to'this time.''8 Finally, the "Official Directory of 1599" brings together some of the earlier directories: "After their gen-eral confession and Communion, those planning to con-tinue the Exercises beyond the First Week should take at least a day's rest from the intense labor of meditation. However, in the meantime they can think over and apply to themselves the parable of the Prodigal Son or some-thing similar. Moreover, they should be given a prepa-ration for their Communion so that they will approach it with reverence, faith, and spiritual relish. They should be given some suitable meditation for this.''9 A present-day handbook for directors of the Spiritual Exercises suggests that, in order to deepen the grace of 65.3 2006 Sbano ¯ "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises the First Week, it is important to have a day of easier presence to the Lord. "The desirable thing is simply to enjoy the day with the Lord, rejoicing in his love and praising him. This time precedes the meditation on the Call of the King, and it is not a break day. Some directors refer to the day that separates any two major sections of the Exercises as a ¯ - break day. Others call it a day of repose. Whatever the words used, this day provides time for transition from one empha-sis to another. It usually includes . some relaxation ~ ~- from the intensity of the retreat . Relaxing after the First Week and preparing to enter the Second Week, the retreatant con-siders the material in one prayer period before taking the break and another at its conclusion.''1° It is clear from early directories that the idea was to give the exercitant a pause and then, later that same day, to resume the usual rhythms of the retreat. Considering that Ignatius is known for attentiveness to every detail of a retreatant's life, it is my assumption that he did not see any problem with having repose days. Considering that the Exercises were generally given to individuals, it is furthermore my assumption that repose days were dis-cerned together by the director and the retreatant with a view to the retreatant's particular needs at that juncture. That is, director and reteatant were not ruled by a cal-endar date set for the convenience of someone or some Repose days becom important intensity relievers during anyone's Twentieth Annotation experie de of the Spiritual Exercises. group. Review for Religious Repose days become important intensity relievers dur-ing anyone's Twentieth Annotation experience of the Spiritual Exercises, an experience where "the exercitant withdraws from all friends and acquaintances, and from all worldly cares" (~20). These days fit into the Exercises as helpful pauses. They are not a move away from the retreat, but an approach to it from a different angle. In his look at the kingdom, William Peters sJ observes a number of stylistic differences (this "strangely structured exercise") from the other exercises. He sees "Ignatius's rather exceptional way of proceeding" here as a part of Ignatius's intention that "the retreatant is given a day of rest, of repose, a day to recuperate after the strenuous efforts of the First Week." 11 Peters's view on the place of the "rather gentle consideration" of the kingdom exercise within the entire retreat downplays the kingdom.12 He sees the "transition" day as revealing Ignatius's real pur-pose, namely, "the relationship between the unfaithful courtier and his king." 13 For Peters, the exercise is a low-key consideration, destined for a day of repose. Most directors of the Spiritual Exercises include one, two, or three repose days in the structure of the retreat. Days of repose are an integral part of the Twentieth Annotation retreat. On these days, being with the Lord interiorly and yet dealing with some ordinary aspects of life has an intensity that affects retreatants. The repose "day" is a period of the retreat (several hours ideally) when one steps back from the four or five periods of prayer that are normally recommended to retreatants. On a day of repose, individuals take a break or a "pause" from their normal retreat activity. When the retreat involves a group, the day might involve a common out-ing, a picnic or something similar. It does not mean that retreatants do not pray that day. The repose day is a break from the intense prayer of the retreat mode--noth- 65.3 2006 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises 276 ing more. That break from intensity is important. The retreatant may not feel the need for a break, but spiritual directors can perceive from their vantage point that a break is essential for the person, especially if they have prayed with matters of great importance in their lives. In a few cases, individuals make the Spiritual Exercises on their own, meeting daily with their spiritual director. More commonly, individuals make their indi-vidual retreats in a group (at a spirituality center, as a class of Jesuit novices, and so on). Exercitants experi-ence repose days differently when they are alone or in a group. Those making their retreat on their own take a break from the usual prayer pattern, but they may or may not interact with others (such as the host commu-nity, their family, or their religious community). What is crucial is the pause from the intensity of the retreat. On the other hand, those making individual retreats within a group are ipso facto doing more than taking a pause. They are interacting with other retreatants, per-sons who are experiencing diverse spiritual movements. Whether intended or not, such repose days contribute to the good of community-building. Before the repose day, savvy directors ask retreatants not to compare retreat experiences during the repose day, but to restrict their communal conversation to "safe" topics: comical moments they had together, favorite or least favorite meals, the weather, and so forth. Inevitably, however, many make comparisons during that day. "Why is that young man so enthused and gung ho about his experi-ence? Why is that woman so serious and intense about hers? What's wrong with that man who seems so dour and sad? Why does that older man seem so self-assured and so clearly ahead of me?" Regardless of how many times the directors point out that there is no "ahead" or "behind" in the spiritual life (it operates on God's time!), Review for Religious retreatants, especially those in the midst of many interior movements, tend to quantify and measure their spiritual life. Competition in life is not always explicit; often it is beneath the surface. Hardly realizing it, retreatants may ask themselves, "Why am I so blas~ compared with that person's energy and zeal? Why am I so slow compared with that person's apparent pace? Thank God I'm not as disengaged as that person seems to be!" Competition readily occurs whether we recognize it, acknowledge it, give words to it, or not. A common date for a repose day for an entire group of retreatants results from the pace and structure of life today: the calendars of all the spirituality-center workers, all the directors, and all the retreatants and the desire to "make sure it all works out neatly." Whether the directors feel that their retreatants are ready for the repose day or not, the general pattern 6 n n[date or la repqye daY for an entire group of retre tants i r"esuits f orn pace ¯and stru tureoflife today. is to give them all a repose day together and then to work around the movements it causes or interferes with. For Ignatius, the spiritual life was marked by spiritual movements. Whether consolation or desolation or ambi-guity, there is movement. That movement requires dis-cernment. That is why he included so many rules for the discernment of spirits in his text, so many details that seem obsessive to the casual reader. Retreatants in a state of serious prayer are already shaped by movements and stirrings. On a repose day with other retreatants, they will inevitably "breathe in" other persons' movements, regard-less of their director's instructions. They have a way of being almost "allergic" to the movements of others. 65.3 2006 Stsano ¯ "Repose Days" during the I~natian Exercises 278i In twenty years of directing the Spiritual Exercises, I have rarely encountered an aware and prayerful per-son who returned from a repose day without being moved interiorly in some way. How do retreatants and their directors discern these movements? Many retreatants can acknowledge the movements and get back to the business of the retreat. Others get "hooked," whether on consolation or desolation. It may be a momentary enthusiasm or aggravation or, on the other hand, a movement that goes to the very heart of who the person is. A wise director needs to be attentive to this and find ways to deal with it head-on. One wants to ensure that the movement does not interfere with the significant movements that Ignatius is seeking in the discernment of the Second Week. Sometimes it is movement that is important to the per-son's prayer, for instance, an insight into a way of pro-ceeding in relationships. Sometimes it is an unhelpful distraction, taking the person "off course" with a con-versation about church or state politics. Many directors fail to ask enough questions about the repose day and its movements in people. They may say to themselves, "Well, both of us have had a good break and now we can move on to the Second Week," and fail to find any deeper meanings in it. Ignatius would want some probing, as he implies in the Sixth Annotation .when he urges directors to ask about the supposedly peripheral aspects of the day (§6). The day of r.epose may easily have caused the retreatant to go into a tailspin, one that could last for several days. Directors who are unsavvy may assume all kinds of reasons for the discouragement, tepidity, or lethargy. The reasons could be much closer to home. The movement could, indeed, reveal important aspects of how God is working with the person. It could also be a move-ment that distracts the person from the ways of God. Review for Religious Communal interaction is good, but, like any "good," it needs to be discerned. One can easily be deceived by its seeming goodness, but sometimes the movement on a repose day can be advantageous to a retreatant. The woman who was apathetic or tepid up till then may com-pare herself with others and realize that she has to get more serious about the spiritual life and her patterns of prayer. The man who was too intense and racing may real-ize that he needs to be more discreet, deliberate, and paced about his prayer. I refer to these movements as "the grace of the repose day." It can spur a tepid person or slow down a fast-paced person. But there can also be serious disad-vantages. What if the movement is artificial? What if the movement from the repose day interferes with movements that were already going on in a person's prayer? What, then, are some of the things that wise and cun-ning spiritual directors need to be aware of when they direct individuals of a group making a retreat, one that includes repose days that may come along at times that are inconvenient to their retreatants' natural movements? First and most essential is the need for discernment. Directors should not think that they are wasting their time, but that they are helping.the exercitant to appro-priate the repose day's meaning for their prayer. Many directors recommend, or even guide retreatants through, an examen of consciousness to discern exactly what the repose time included: life-giving or life-draining con-versations, feelings of gratitude or impatience, of hope or ennui. Quite often the fifth rule (§3 3 3) of the Rules for the Discernment of Spirits for the Second Week is men-tioned. There Ignatius has the retreatant look at the whole course of events pertaining to a spiritual move-ment-- the beginning, middle, and end. Perhaps the exercitant can be asked to read other Rules for Discernment as well. 65.3 2006 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises A second thing regarding a scheduled day of repose for the individuals of a group is that some individuals are ready for that repose day and some are not. If all make it, comparisons will be made regardless of directors' urging not to make them. Directors should ask them-selves, "Should this particular retreatant do the repose day or not? Considering where the person is, will a repose day help or hinder the movements he or she is experiencing?" We can easily be caught by "groupthink" and assume that a ~ o. ~ :' .~.'~ person should havea ,question ~ repose day simply " ~ because the calendar lists it for the conve-nient operation of the retreat center. The truly discerning question is whether or not the individual is ready for a breather. For the per-son who takes part in the repose day (or does not), what instructions should be given? I would recommend not giving the retreatant a repose day just because everyone else is doing it. Directors should ask, "Will this retreatant benefit from the repose day?" The Spiritual Exercises are for the retreatant. Retreatants should not have to bend to accommodate themselves to the schedule of the spirituality center or the team of directors. Third is the structure and length of the repose day. The early directories do not give the impression that there Was a full day of repose. Yet the increasingly common practice is to lengthen the day and perhaps forgo the daily direction period. Teams of directors need to ask carefully what they will suggest for the day. One retreat center's Web site says that a repose day is a good day for an out-ing to a local mall. The cynical mind would see this activ- The truly disce?nihg is whether ,or not the individual is ready for.a breather. 280 Review for Religious ity as giving the retreatant suitable prayer material for the Two Standards meditation coming in just a few days, as if retreatants do not have enough data already. Another director might wonder what a trip to a mall could offer someone who is praying for poverty and the Third Degree of Humility. The length of the day also requires team dis-cussion and discernment. What is the right length--for time to breathe but not go into a tailspin. The practice of repose days is often taken for granted. Directors and teams do not ask enough questions about it. The aim of this article has been to encourage ques-tioning. Notes ~ This note on "repose days" was inspired by three Jesuit novices whose retreat I directed. By their experiences, openness, and questions, Vincent Strand nSJ, Brian Rademacher nSJ, and Christopher Krall nSJ never stopped quietly calling me to move forward in faith. I offer them these words in gratitude. 2 Spiritual Exercises, §99. Unless noted, all quotations to the Exercises are from the translation by Louis J. Puhl SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1951). 3 George E. Ganss SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius: A Translation and Commentary (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992), p. 159. 4 Puhl, p. 177. s Number 62 in "Directory of Juan.Alfonso de Polanco," in Martin E. Palmer SJ, On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of I Y99 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 131. The Latin text is: "Peracta confessione generali, cum ulterius progrediendum est, ut respiret qui exercetur, meditatio de regno Christi ei proponetur, quae bis fiet, mane scilicet et vesperi; et pro illo die alia non proponantur; deinde sub vesperam Exercitium incar-nationis proponetur, postridie faciendum in aurora." 6 Number 81 in "Directory of Father Antonio Cordeses," in Palmer, p. 275. 7 Number 60 in "A Short Directory for Giving the Society's Exercises Effectively," in Palmer, p. 212. ~ Number 87 in "The Directory of Father Gil Gonz~ilez Dgvila," in Palmer, p. 250. 65.3 2OO6 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises 9 Number 140 in "The Official Directory of 1599," in Palmer, p. 318. 10 Marian Cowan CSJ and John Carroll Futrell SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola: A Handbook for Directors (Denver, Ministry Training Services, 1981), p. 69. 11 William A.M. Peters SJ, "The Kingdom: The Text of the Exercise," Way Supplement 18 (Spring 1973): 9. ~2 Peters, pp. 16 and 11. ~3 Peters, p. 13. 282] Tinsel in August Scraps of it, in the evening grass, Left over from last Christmas's tree Dragged by its stump to its shreddedness, Casting garlands and crowns on its path, Still catch moon-sparks - like the cat With tinsel eyes, going forth into night With glitter afoot from May's prom-party Dress, and June's wedding gown, that drifted Crystal and spangles over the family pets, Over carpeting, over dancers and through cracks In the house. Overhead now, the tinsel Of summer stars slowly shreds with the sullen Advance of thunder and sheet-tinsel garlanding Horizons far to the West. Cat-tag tinseling, Lucifur comes home wet from his tryst. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious CHARLES P. FARRAR Gerard Manley Hopkins's "Lantern out of Doors": A Contemplative Response to Loss Seometimes the clearest way to describe an experi-nce is metaphorically. When an experience is unique and mysterious, we link it to something more common to make it more understandable. According to its Greek roots, metaphor means "to carry across." A well-conceived metaphor carries meaning across from one plane to another, thereby elevating the reader's con-sciousness. Metaphors have always been effective in the deft hands of writers of good spiritual theology: they suggest insights about God. The English Jesuit Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889) was a master of the spiritual metaphor. His poems' everyday images elevate readers' minds to fresh spiritual understandings. In the follow-ing sonnet a lantern conveys the experience of loss. Charles P. Farrar works as a hospital chaplain in Detroit. His address is 1930 Piper Drive, apt. 204; Rochester Hills, Michigan 48307. 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors 284, The Lantern out of Doors Sometimes a lantern moves along the night. That interests our eyes. And who goes there? I think; where from and bound, I wonder, where, With, all down darkness wide, his wading light? Men go by me whom either beauty bright In mould or mind or what not else makes rare: They rain against our much-thick and marsh air Rich beams, till death or distance buys them quite. Death or distance soon consumes them: wind V~at most I may eye after, be in at the end I cannot, and out of sight is out of mind. Christ minds: Christ's interest, what to avow or amend There, dyes them, heart wfnts, care hfunts, foot f611ows kfnd, Their rfnsom, their rescue, find first, ffst, last frMnd.1 The metaphor here, developing gradually through the two quatrains and the first tercet, is wonderfully subversive. What we think is a lyrical reflection about an ordinary event surprisingly turns out to be much more. The speaker leads us from a concrete observation (a nighttime lantern moving through the speaker's vision), to a more abstract observation about how the lives of beautiful people "go by" him until they disappear from view. What Hopkins is "carrying across" is the striking similarity between the way nighttime travelers pass by on the road and the way peo-ple come and go in our lives. But that is not all. In the last tercet he carries us to another plane of meaning, making a beautiful Christological statement: that Christ can do something which we cannot. He can keep up loving friendships with all those people whose departure from our lives had sad-dened us. This metaphor has carried us contemplatively from an everyday observation to--presto!--the healing of that sadness of ours. Review for Rdigious The first line and a half moves smoothly enough. Then we are jarred by "who goes there?" Suddenly the speaker becomes aware that the moving lantern implies a person. In lines 3 and 4 he drifts into a reverie about the whence and whither of the person "wading" like a lantern through a sea of darkness. All he knows of the person are the few moments of light present amid o.bscurity. The second stanza reflects on the beauty of certain people in the speaker's life, whether physical or internal beauty ("in mould or mind"). Such people are "bright" and "rare," like lanterns in the dark, like "rich beams" that "rain" against the "marsh air" of our mundane life. Notice how subjective this is. He is not primarily describ-ing the beauty in these people or the brightness in the lanterns. Rather he describes how these qualities affect him. (In this way Hopkins follows the tradition of Romantic poets like Wordsworth, Keats, and Rilke.) Consequently, when in line 8 these people leave the speaker's ken by "death or distance," they, for all intents and purposes, cease to exist. The word "quite" in line 8 seems to mean "completely." They disappear com-pletelyJhow tragic! The next tercet (lines 9-11) is a bit twisty to under-stand. And appropriately enough, for the action is the speaker's vain effort to keep these people in view as they go down a winding, twisting road. The Hopkins scholar Peter Milward says: "How eagerly soever he follows the winding steps of such men as they recede into the dark-ness, he cannot 'be in at the end'--that is, follow their subsequent history to its end.''2 The speaker concludes this thought with the clich6"out of sight is out of mind"--as though he is too numb emotionally to come up with a fresh phrase. We cannot help being struck by the loneliness of all this. The poem tells us nothing about these beautiful 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors The poem tells us nothi 2,861 lantern-like people. It does not reveal any empathy toward them; there is no relationship here. All that mat-ters is how the speaker feels: he sees them as "interesting," "beautiful," "bright," and "rare," and his seeing falls short. It seems he is psychologically trapped inside his own emotions. Notice how, for emphasis, Hopkins chimes the "I" sound three times in: "I about" thkse behut l may eye after, be in at the ¯ "~"~v~,~ia'tern*liv°'~a'i~ ~,,, end / I cannot." To find any happiness, he must be rescued from this solipsistic sighing. The rescue comes quickly in the last three lines. Simply by the sound of them, the reader senses that the speaker's mood has picked up. Thanks to Hopkins's "sprung rhythm," it all bursts to life sis-boom-bah. After lamenting that the beautiful persons disappear from his own mind, the speaker quickly adds that in Christ's mind they live on. Christ, too, is "interested" in those beauti-ful people, but his interest is objective, not subjective. He is interested, not in his feelings about them, but in their welfare. He never fails to "avow" all that is good in them, and he works to "amend" whatever they fail in. The words "~yes them, heart wfints, care hfiunts, foot f611ows kind" run together breathlessly,3 demonstrating an urgency of concern. This urgency, however, comes, not from last-ditch hopes groping in the darkness, but rather from the desire of Christ's heart. It comes from Christ's unconditional interest in them, not because of some particular beauty in them, but simply because of God's unfailing love for them. Christ can succeed where the speaker of the poem fails. His omniscient vision "eyes" all people without Review for Religious interruption. The speaker gladly acknowledges that from heaven our Lord gazes on them perpetually. And his "foot" can "follow" them without interference. This phrase "foot follows kind," incidentally, is a remarkable terse statement of the mystery of the incarnation. Thanks to the Son's taking on a human nature, he can "follow" us, as of one "kind" with him.4 As Hebrews puts it, "since the one who saves and those who are being saved have a common origin, Jesus does not hesitate to treat them as a family.''5 Being divine, Christ can follow us; with a human nature, he cannot help following us. From this, the sonnet's last line flows smoothly, both in its music and its logic. Being our "rescue" (the Messiah saves us from death) and our "ransom" (his sacrifice itself saves us), he has proven himself to be our "first, fast, last friend." Friendship is what the lantern-seeker yearns for but is denied. Abiding friendship, however, is precisely the promise which Christ fulfills.6 From the speaker's existential, self-absorbed lament about his unfulfilled affection for certain beautiful people, he arrives at a place of peace. His conviction that Christ's love for these peo-ple is complete, unlike his own, consoles him. One apparent weakness in the argument of this poem is that the conclusion seems to have been reached too facilely. It seems superficial or unreal that the speaker could assuage his sadness simply by calling Christ to mind. A study of Hopkins's life, however, suggests that the bur-den of this poem was likely learned and earned through a real personal struggle. One episode in his life shows how this sonnet may be somewhat autobiographical. In the winter of 1865, when he was a twenty-year-old Oxford student, he met a young man several years his junior named Digby Dolben. Dolben's cousin Robert Bridges appears to have asked Hopkins the favor of help-ing the younger man gain admission into Oxford. Dolben 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors was unforgettably vivacious and artistic. The two young men shared a passion for religion and poetry composi-tion. According to Hopkins's celebrated biographer Robert Bernard Martin, Dolben must have made a pow-erful impression on Hopkins's soul.7 His feelings, how-ever, were ambivalent: he relished this friendship, but also struggled with his desire to deepen it. When cir-cumstances required that Dolben move away later that same year, Hopkins was left feeling empty. When he learned of his friend's tragic drowning two years after-wards, he was devastated. Although Hopkins did not elaborate on these feel-ings in his letters or journals, there is a laconic journal entry from 1873: "I received as I think a great mercy about Dolben." This line was written immediately after a ten day spiritual retreat. It is remarkable that this per-son, with whom he had enjoyed communication only for a number of months, would be on his mind all these years later. It is more remarkable that the memory would surface as a consolation after a time of intense prayer. What had been going on in Hopkins's mind all this time? I believe the "Lantern out of Doors" provides a key. The connection between this episode and the sonnet-- albeit speculative--is compelling. Dolben's passing through Hopkins's life was much like the poem's lantern. In Hopkins's quiet and introverted life, Dolben's effer-vescent personality and artistic sensibilities must have been "rich beams" glinting in Hopkins's "marsh air." Moreover, Dolben's departure, first by "distance," then by "death," probably left him feeling much as the poem's first eleven lines leave us readers feeling. We can speculate that Hopkins tried to cope with this predicament psychologically. At this time he was embarking upon an earnest spiritual journey, one which would lead him first to become Catholic and then to join Review for Religious the Society of Jesus. It was a fertile time for him, spiri-tually and artistically. His journals and letters give ample evidence of a soul immersed in wonder and contempla-tion. Hopkins's Ignatian spiritual formation inspired him to seek God's presence in all things. Doubtless, his sad-ness about Digby Dolben entered into his contem-plative exercises. That journal entry referring to the mercy he received about Dolben was most likely a fruit of these devotions. The inspiration of the last three lines of the sonnet might, then, have flowed quite naturally. In a moment of contemplating Christ, the consolation mer-cifully came to him concerning Christ's invincible friend-ship with Dolben. If we could indulge in further conjecture about this sort of contemplation, it is reasonable to suppose that a key might be found in St. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises. For Hopkins as a Jesuit, this text could have been foun-dational; any experience of consolation could well have been understood in its light. One teaching in the Exercises stands out. The fourth point of the Contemplation to Attain Divine Love instructs the exercitant "to consider how all blessings and gifts descend from above. My lim-ited power, for example, comes from the supreme and infinite power from above. In like manner, justice, good-ness, pity, mercy, etc., descend from above just as the rays from the sun, the waters from the spring, etc.''8 Here one is being directed from a consciousness of blessings and gifts toward a contemplation of the God from whom they descend. It is plausible to imagine the 65.3 2006 Farrar * Lantern out of Doors 290 young Hopkins--still staggered by the radiant gifts that Dolben had brought into his life--in an effort to come to terms with his loss, contemplating the infinite power of Christ, who made these gifts shine through his late friend. And would this not have inspired Hopkins to trust that Christ's light will continue to shine upon and through Dolben for all eternity. Whether Hopkins can see it or not, he can still experience the healing which comes from the conviction that his friend is in very good hands. As Peter Milward elegantly puts it, "the last word 'friend' emphasizes the truth that the 'lantern out of doors' has its end in the love of Christ.''9 Perhaps many of us have had similar struggles and breakthroughs. I, for one, am constantly reminded of feelings of attraction toward the lantern-like people in my life: and also of the helpless sadness of separation. One example comes to mind, which arose out of my work as a hospital chaplain. I responded to a patient's request to visit him. Let us call him John. We enjoyed a rich conversation, about an hour long, about his spiritual his-tory, his family, his hopes for the future, and the mean-ing of life in general. It was the same the next two days. These visits were very fulfilling for me. It was no trou-ble for me to squeeze my schedule to find time for John. On the fourth day, to my surprise, the bed was empty. I discovered he had been discharged just a short time ago. A flood of questions came to mind: What did this mean? Was he feeling better? Why didn't he tell me he was leaving? This last question vexed me most. Like the sonnet's lantern-watcher, my thoughts were more on my letdown than on John's welfare. I felt guilty about that. I also felt guilty about getting so close to a patient. I remembered the hoary old adage of Clinical Pastoral Education: "Be careful about letting the ministry be a satisfaction for your personal needs." Review for Religious But why should I deny the good feelings that these visits with John had given me? They made me feel valu-able as a chaplain, and I wanted more. Like Hopkins contrasting the "much-thick and marsh air" of his mun-dane life with the "rich beams" some people's lives send forth, I wanted to feel that light. It helped me feel com-petent and useful. It gave my ministry an emphatic sense of purpose. I felt connected with this patient and wanted to connect some more. Then, like a lantern in the night, he was gone. I wish I could say that I rebounded immediately and arrived at a profound conviction akin to the insight of the last tercet in Hopkins's sonnet. But to this day I still feel some emptiness about John. As I later spoke with a friend about this, I realized how much emptiness there is in my heart about the many interesting people who have passed into and then out of my life. While I may not have "gotten over" the various sorts of grief occasioned by these losses, I often experience moments of consola-tion about them. I will find myself in the Liturgy, in prayer, in a conversation with someone, or reading, for instance, when some kind of assurance mysteriously comes. It is a consoling belief that Christ is watching over all God's children, that somehow they are all safe in his care. My attempts to analyze or describe these moments of consolation invariably, end in futility. What I can say is that they give me peace. I suppose what hap-pens is that my attention graciously moves from my own self-centered emptiness about the loss to a contemplation of where these individuals are in Christ's perspective, that is to say, watched over, loved, cared for by him. They are welcomed into friendship by their "first, fast, last friend." There are manifold ways to deal therapeutically with loss. Books teaching cognitive techniques consistently 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors find their place on bestseller lists. Granting the effec-tiveness of these techniques, I hope that believers will also consider the simple insight offered by this lovely poem. I hope we will forever keep our hearts open to seeing that those who have journeyed beyond our eye-sight remain within our Savior's. And there is a consol-ing corollary, that Christ watches my lantern too. Notes 1 Norman H. MacKenzie, ed., The Poetical Works of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992), no. 113, p. 40. 2 Peter Milward, A Commentary on the Sonnets of G.M Hopkins (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985), p. 62. 3 This effect is aided by the fact, as Milward (p. 63) observes, that the accents are on the verbs. 4 "Kind" has a double meaning here, nature and benevolence. These meanings are especially lovely in contrast to the rhymes (1) "mind" in the phrase "out of mind" and (2) "wind," the speaker's futile visual pursuit of the lanterns' apparent windings. The suggestion in the word "kind" is that the remedy for the speaker's sadness is that Christ is of a kind with us and is kind as well. s Hebrews 2:11, from Eugene H. Peterson, trans., The New Testament in Contemporary Language (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2002). 6 See John 15:13-15. 7 Robert B. Martin, Gerard Manley Hopkins:/1 Very Private Life (London: Harper, 1991), pp. 80-170. 8 The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans. Anthony Mottola (New York: Doubleday, 1964), p. 104. 9 Milward, Commentary, p. 63. Review for Religious RAYMOND R. RYAN Today's Candidates: Who Are They, What Do They Expect? Occasionally, as I try to explain to interested questioners what is going on in the novitiate, their eyes glaze over and I hear them internal-izing W.C. Fields's famous comment, "There's less here than meets the eye." Actually there is much more here than meets the eye. Formation today is dynamic, not static; not only for "them," but also for "us." Otherwise it is only a game, a series of hoops to be jumped through with blithe disregard for the future. Concern for that future, however, has prompted a great deal of research on the char-acteristics of today's candidates for religious life and priesthood. Perhaps a few findings from that research will help us better understand our new-comers, our novices. The fall 2004 issue of Touchstone, the official publication of the Raymond R. Ryan OSA, a former novice director, writes from the Augustinian Provincialate; 20300 Governors Highway; Olympia Fields, Illinois 60461. being religious 65.3 2006 Ryan * Today's Candidates ConversiOff iS ctnii iuou s through: initia[ a nd formation, and.it n ver s opS.i National Federation of Priests' Councils, features an arti-cle by Dominican Andrew Carl Wisdom: "Why Every Generation Matters in Preaching." He indicates that every congregation is made up of four or five distinct commu-nities: Builders (1901.-1924), Silent Generation (1925- 1942), Baby Boomers (1943-1964), Generation X (1964-1981), and Millennials (1981-present). He chal-lenges preachers to be aware of this intergenerational phe-nomenon and address homilies to each generation. It is not uncommon for a novitiate class or a postnovitiate for-mation community to have three generations represented. One of those younger men puts it this way: "I am not simply in formation, but in a real sense in re-for-mation. I am already someone with a full life, commitments, and deeply held con-victions. I don't know that the order is all that ready for people like me." Another, reflecting on his for-mation experience, remarks: "It is understood that we all have faults and reach various levels of maturity dur-ing different stages of our li~'es. However, it is of par-ticular concern when . . . one who has a reasonable, relatively healthy sense of self is now in formation with others who are considerably younger or much older, or have not yet resolved such pressing identity issues as their own sexuality. A formation team must be equipped to recognize and address such disparities within a for-mation community, rather than treat everyone with a one-size-fits-all approach." These observations make us aware that formation today is quite a venture. The two brothers quoted had Review for Religious good insights. One looks for re-formation. For the other, one-size-fits-all formation can be deformation. Obviously, intergenerational living with various levels of maturity and immaturity not only is a challenge, but can be a heavy cross. We who are supposedly "formed" can attest to how adult immaturity adversely affects our communal life. Before mentioning some formation components as they relate to today's candidates, I quote Msgr. Dennis Sheehan, senior Catholic chaplain at Harvard University, regarding some current candidates: Today's seminarian is older and more experienced . My fear is that at times we will form a priest accord-ing to all the directives and requirements. But, if he has not tracked that with the ongoing conversion of his intellectual, moral, and religious life, we are likely to find a formed priest who is only a partial Christian. ¯ . In this generation, when so many come to us chronologically and psychologically older, it is far more difficult to change basic assumptions. They will learn the Scriptures and theology and pass examina-tions . . . but then what? Often enough they can become a canonical enforcer. The collaborative can-didate becomes a clerical Caesar. (Seminary Journal, fall 2004) While Msgr. Sheehan is concerned with priesthood can-didates, his observation can also apply to candidates for religious life. His concern is that both initial and con-tinuing formation be considered matters of unending conversion, a quite Augustinian outlook. Life is a con-tinuing call to change and grow. Conversion, then, is continuous through initial and continuing formation and it never stops. For this reason, today's formation programs have both a strong programmatic component, which presents the elements of Catholic, Christian, and Augustinian (or Benedictine, Franciscan, and so forth) spirituality, and a 65.3 2006 Ryan ¯ Today's Candidates 296 personal/communal component. The latter has four interconnected goals, asking each candidate to: ¯ know himself and his stow; ¯ commit to building and sustaining healthy intimacy in his life; ¯ learn, or continue to learn, and understand that integration is a lifelong process. The gospel calls us to work at continuing conversion and to invite others into that lifelong and life-giving call from the Lord; ¯ allow himself to live in the tensions encountered, accepting that these are a part of integration. We cannot always reconcile tensions or "fix" things. God's presence is experienced just as surely in darkness as in light. The practice of solitude brings perspective, sometimes peace, but always a centering in Jesus, self, and others in our actual circumstances. These goals are spelled out more concretely in some of the following ways. Candidates have spiritual directors at all levels of initial formation. Directors meet those in formation monthly. The history and continuing stoW of God's call is a part of these discussions. When I was in a peer supervision group while novice director, our facil-itator, a Dominican sister with age, wisdom, and grace asked us, usually at a time of conflict or self-doubt, "And what's going on in you right now as you relate your stow?" I did not like the question, even after four and a half years in the group. Why? Because it forced me to clarify what I did not want to face or did not want to integrate into my life. Indeed, sharing ourselves brings deeper self-knowledge and a deeper realization that, the more personal the problem, the more universal it is. Formation today, along with the previously men-tioned personal elements, encourages the communal dimension, in ways perhaps strange or at least fleetingly uncomfortable to some. The "climate check," which we Review for Religious in our province used, is helpful. It is a simple statement of some truth about ourselves, our families, and our lives; it helps us "tune in" to each other--or perhaps find our-selves "on the same page," discovering a commonality of experiences. When community members suffer from misunderstandings or hurts, they are encouraged to meet together. One-on-ones, especially in conflict situations, can help them work through interpersonal difficulties. Sometimes things do not work out as hoped; that can be helpful too. We can ask what this tells us about each other and ourselves: "What's going on in us right now?" Postnovitiate formation invites all of the community members to attend house chapters and community meet-ings-- our more formal community structures. These can effectively introduce newer members into our time-hon-ored ways of being together. Contemporary Augustinian formation encourages personal and communal sharing. This is done not because psychologists have invaded our mid