Suchergebnisse

Issue 14.6 of the Review for Religious, 1955. ; A. M. D. G. Review for Religious NOVEMBER 15, 1955 Jnfecjration . Joseph P. Fisher Community Workshop . ¯ Sister Mary Joselyn Renovation and Adaptation . Joseph F. Gallen Book Reviews Questions and Answers Index to Volume XIV VOLUME XlV NUMBER RI:::VIF::W FOR RI:::LIGIOUS VOLUME XIV NOVEMBER, 1955 NUMBER 6 CONTENTS INTEGRATION--Joseph P. Fisher, S.J . 281 COMMUNITY WORKSHOP OF THE DULUTH BENEDICTINES-- Sister Mary Joselyn, O.S.B . 287 SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENTS . 292 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION---Joseph F. Gallen, S.J . 293 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 319 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . . 328 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 29. Tax on Religious Houses for General Expenses . 329 30. Salaries of Religious to be Assigned to Province . 329 31. Indulgence in the Form of a 3ubilee' . . 330 32. Order 'of Procedure for Former Mothers General . 330 33. Matter for Questioning in Canonical Inquiry . 331 34. Modesty of Eyes . 332 35. Bowing to Superior's Chair . 333 36. Illegitimacy, When an Impediment . 333 INDEX TO VOLUME XIV, 1955 . 334 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, November, 19550 Vol. XIV, No. 6. Published bi-monthly: January, March, May, July, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, .by St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter January 15. 1942, at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, $.J., Gerald Kelly, S.J., Francis N. Korth, S.J. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, Copyright, 1955, by Adam C. Ellis, S.J. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. Int:egrat:ion Joseph P. Fisher, S.J. ALL good Catholics cry out against secularism--the divorce of God from His world. They rightly insist that God must be made a part of a man's daily life, that God must be brough~t into education, business, government, entertainment--all the pursuits of human life. Men who insist on keeping God out of public life will make shipwreck of human life. If God is kept, so to speak, in church and not allowed to go out into the market place, the business world, the motion-picture halls, the places of government, then man will live most of his life without God and that is sure to be fatal. Although a religious is not likely to be tainted by secularism in the sense in which it is used above, there is a possibility of a some-what similar division in his life between the spiritual and ordinary life. How often a spiritual director finds that young religious going forth from the novitiate or from a period of some concentration.on the spiritual life into the active life feel very uncomfortable in their new surroundings and activities., Often enough they feel as if their spiritual life has evaporated almost overnight. At least it seems to them that they have suffered a great setback in their progress in the life of the soul; and that--naturally for good religious-~causes them concern. They then look upon their present way of life with some-thing like suspicion or even distrust, and they hanker, as it were, for the fleshpots of Egypt. It must be admitted that often, when such transfers are made, there actually is a loss of interest in spiritual things because of the, many distractions that duty and, perhaps, desire of relief bring into the lives of such religious. But much of the difficulty can be traced back to a wrong outlook on the spiritual life. In a sense it is alm0st inevitable that young, inexperienced minds develop a certain attitude on the spiritual life because of the way they approach it. Before they entered a seminary or convent, al-though they had been good Catholics, they had not worked sys-tematically on the spiritual life or used the various spir.itual exer-cises standard among religious. As a consequence, when they are. fa.ced .with a whole .new field of life, the spiritual life, and read. about it in books and hear about it in talks and retreats, they look. upon it as something different from what their lives have been, as 281' JOSEPH P. FISHER Ret~iew for Religious something superadded to ordinary life, as even opposed to ordinary life, as unable to be mixed with ordinary life. It seems a life apart, a sanctuaried life. It is 'lived in quiet, and solitude; it grows by prayer and penance; its natural habitat is the chapel or oratory; it is a plant easily wilted by exposure to the winds of the world. And so, when they do go forth from the warmth of novitiate fervor into the cool atmosphere of the classroom or hospital, they feel a chill. And to their minds there naturally seems a split between ~he spiritual life as they knew it and life as they are living it. But is not all this true? To a certain extent it is and has to.be. But frequently there is a ne'edless and harmful exaggeration, an over-emphasis on certain truths to the neglect of others. We can admit once and for all that the common insistence on silence and solitude and recollection is necessary especially for a beginner in the spiritual !ife. Before entering, religion he probably lived among many dis-tractions, engaging in sports, attending dances and parties, going to mdvies, and in general occupying himself with many such matters; and his life to a 'large extent was sustained by these things. Ob-viously, if they were continued, he would go on being supported by them and would never come to lean on the truths of the faith, the truths of the spiritual life. It is only when these false supports are removed and the noise of the world has faded away that he will be forced, so to speak, to lean on God and the things of God. He will either have to swim in the waters of the spirit or sink; or, of course, remove himself. With this admitted, let us turn to the question of how the harmful exaggeration can be handled. The main element in the exaggeration is that it sets up a di-vision in the life of man. Instead of life's being a whole, it becomes a thing of diverse and even antagonistic parts, parts which are held" together rather mechanically and awkwardly. On the one hand there is the spiritual life, needing its sl~ecial atmosphere, nourishment, and care. On the other hand there is ordinary, natural life with its entirely different needs and demands. Some hold them together rather forcefully; some give up the fight in favor of ordinary life; some, we hope, work out a satsifactory integration. The main error consists in thinking that a man is spiritual, is engaged in super-natural activity, only at certain restricted places and times--for example, at prayer, in chapel. If he is not in such places or doing such things, he is regarded as being away from the spiritual, super-natural life. He may be, but he need not be. So the ideal would be if the whole of life were spiritual, super- 282 November, 1955 INTEGRATION natural, if the whole of life were of a piece, if a man were~always about his Father's business. Is this possible? Can a man conceiv-ably be in such a posltxon that he regards a11 things, no matter what they are, as spiritual, supernatural? Whether he eats, plays, talks, suffers-~can it all, in a true sense, be the same? It seems 'that it was for the saints. St. Paul certainly lived out his exhortation: "Therefore, whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God" (I Cor. 10:31). ' The biographer of Brother Lawrence of the Resurrection, a discalced Carmelite lay brother, states: "Everything °was the same to him-~every place, every employment. The good Brother found God everywhere, as much while he was repairing shoes as while he was praying With the community. He was in no hurry to make his retreats, because he found in his ordinary work the same God to love and adore as in the depth of the desert" (Brother Lawrence, The Practice of the Presence of God, p. 53). And it has been told of Jerome Jaegen, whose process .of beatification has begun, that he combined attention to external things and to God in a wonderful way: "It is quite remarkable that just when he was campaigning for office and acquainting himself with his new duties, he was pass-ing through what he calls the first phase of the 'Mystical Marriage.' In this phase, to find her Groom, the soul need only turn to Him within her 'where the seat of consciousness is,' where He is always present. While he was a Deputy to the Diet his mystical life reached its full development. He attained to that condition in which one can simultaneously pay attention both to external things and to God manifesting His presence within the soul" (REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, II (1943), 359). Such, to a greater or less degree, must have been the outlook of all real saints. Life, theft, can be one, can all be spiritual, supernatural. A man does not have to pass arti-ficiall); from one part of his life to the next; does not have to leave for a time his warm spiritual world and run out, holding his breath, as it were, into the cold world of everyday life, then hasten back before his spiritual life has disappeared. It is true that we have been speaking of the saints, and saints could do what we cannot. Assuredly, but, if there is one thing in which ordinary men can well imitate the saints, it is, in this ideal of an integral life, where all is part of a whole. " . By what means, then, can a religious grow in this integrated way of life? The grace of God, of course, has much to do with it; but, as in most other matters concerning the spiritual life, we must 283 ~JOSEPH P. FISHER Revib~V for . Religiohs do our part. Various means can be suggested which are standard matter in books on the ascetical life. However, we shall endeavor to put them in a way that fits our purpose. The first and most obvious means of making the whole of life spiritual, supernatural, is to have what is called a "good intention." With the proper intention, a man in the state of grace can make all his good or indifferent voluntary acts a source of supernatural merit. Theologians dispute about the precise requisites of this in-tention; but all agree that the more explicit and actual the intention, the better. Fbr our purpose the thing to be insisted on is this:'a man should try to grow in the realization of this really very im-portant truth about the power of intention. He has to see it as an integrating factor in his life, as a unifying principle that assimilates whatever it touches into the supernatural life he leads. In this way a man is aware that all is supernatural, that no matter where he is; what he is doing, he has not left the spiritual world but is busy building it. It is clear that this ability to realize all things as super-natural through the means of a good intention requires a more" penetrating and active faith than is required to accept as spiritual such actions as prayer, visits to the Blessed Sacrament, and the like. The next means that suggests itself is the practice of the presence of God. This subject has been treated at length in several previous articles in the REVIEW 'FOR RELIGIOUS. Here I want to emphasize a certain point of view. For our purpose--a means of integration-- the practice of the presence of God remains a rather ineffective means if viewed in the following manner. (However, .there is a place even for it in the case of those who are learning the practice and know what is the further end they should have in mind.) A person is thought of as going along his ordinary life and then at the sound of a bell or at some stated interval as turning away for a moment from what he is doing and thinking of God. Then back to his ordinary life. A rather crude image may give a clearer idea of this method. It will be obvious how the image applies to our matter. A fish's normal element is water--it is at home in water.' But oc-casionally a fish jumps into the air, an entirely different element from water and one in which the fish is not perfectly at home. The forced leap into the higher and lighter element is for only a ~ery slight bit of time. Then the fish relapses into the medium congenial to it. Certainly such a manner of practicing the presence of God, if it goes no farther, would not help integration. On the.'other hand there is a way of practicing it which would be immensely helpful. 284 November, 1955 INTEGRATION As has been well said, we do not really put ourselves into the presence of God--we are actually there, always there. We cannot get away from God--He is closer and more pursuing than the air we breathe. But, of course, we have to know the facts, realize them, act on them. To this end it is suggested that we read matter on the presence of God and often make a meditation such as the Contem-plation for Obtaining Divine Love. It is only when God becomes, so to speak, the element in which we live our lives--in Him we live and move and bare our b.eing--tbat the presence of God will be an integrating force in our lives. It is important to point out that this practice is not only or even chiefly a matter of the mind; for, obviously, we cannot have God in the focus of our minds con-stantly. However, after much work on our part, He can be, as it were, aIways.on the fringe of our attention--but this must be with-out strain or violent effort. And best of all He can be at the end of all our loves; for in all things we can, if we so wish, love God. God, then, can be the unifying principle in our life, making all our living a whole, and enabling us to pass from prayer to play, from play to work, with the conviction and consequent peace that we are always about our Father's business and our soul's sanctifica-tion. It was no doubt with this ideal in mind that St. Ignatius "came to the following conclusion, stated in a letter he caused to be written to some young students and quoted by Father Lindworsky in The Ps~Icbolog~ of Asceticism: " 'Ou_r father holds it for better, ~hat in all things one should endeavor to find God, rather than that long continuous periods of time should be applied to prayer.' In-stead of devoting themselves to prolonged prayer, the students were exhorted to exercise themselves 'in finding God our Lord in all things, "in conversation, in walking, seeing, tasting, bearing, thinking, and in fact in all kinds of activity, for of a truth the majesty of God is in all things' " (p. 68). When a man has come to such a familiarity with God as St. Ignatius implies in this passage, it is hardly right to speak of the "practice" of the presence of God as if it were one practice more or less in the spiritual life. Really it is a man's spiritual life or at least has the function of a barometer in its regard. "Where thy treasure is there is thy heart also." There can be no doubt about it. Although in treating recollection we shall cover somewhat the same ground we did when treating the question of the presence of God, it seems worthwhile to examine the subject in its relation to integration. A rather common way of looking at recollection is in- 285 ~OSEPH P. FISHER dicated in some such expression, as, "He made an act of recollection." This suggests that the person in question is, for the most part, un-recollected, and then briefly recollects himself. This act of recollec-tion would consist of turning away from the distracting, perhaps absorbing, unspiritual business of the moment and turning to the thought of something pious unrelated to the matter at hand. As was said in connection, with the practice of the presence of God, there is a' place for this kind of thing, but it is not at all the ideal. There would seem to be something strange about the idea that a man i's recollected who recollects himself for brief, flashing moments; and for the rest of the time, most of the time, he is anything but recollected." Would it not be better to regard recollection as some-thing capable of being more pervasive, more continual? Perhaps at least at the beginning of one's endeavor to practice recollection it would be well to change the sense in which the word recollection is commonly used, that is, calling up a spiritual thought of some kind. Would it not get us closer to what we want if we would have it mean the gathering of our powers on what the will of God puts before us.?. My imagifiation, my mind, my will often tend away from what for me is expressly God's will. Holding them to what is God's will for me from the right motive--it is God's will and I wish to fulfill it--would seem to be a fine form of recollection. If I am supposed to pray, I call together my powers and bend them this way; if I am supposed to study, I marshal them on my books; if I am supposed to recreate, I turn them to this end--the motive always being to do God's will, to find God in all things. It is plain how this.again would make for integration. As one grow.s in the power of recollection, one would approach more and more the prac-tice of the presence of God as indicated above. Then God would come to be all in all. It would seem that the form of recollection proposed is espe- ¯ cially import~lnt for and adapted to active religious. If their activity is divorced from their spiritual life, sad, indeed, is their-lot. The harder they work, the farther they withdraw from spiritual progress. But they ought to sanctify themselves by their apostolate. This quires real effort, a real desire for spiritual progress. An integrated life will bring power and peace and spiritual ad-vancement. It is an ideal all religious should work for. It will. not come without effort and the grace of God. Life seems almost too short to mak~ a whole out of the many parts. But here, as in all things, there is a shortcut--the love of God.- 286 Communi .y orkshop ot: t:he .Dulu :h enedict:ines Sister M. Joselyn, O.S.B. i N the fall of 1954, Mother Martina Hqghes, Prioress of the Bene-dictine Sisters of Villa Sancta S~holastic~, Duluth, Minnesota, first projected .the plan ofa workshop for the sisters in which any problem of the community would receive a frank, orderly, and serious discussion under the leadership of an experienced priest. All the sisters were urged to give thought to matters they would like to consider or have ~onsidered. at the workshop; aJad ar.rangemenrs wi~re made to bring a large group--as it happened, about half the community, which numbers more thah four hundred members--to the mother house for a two-d~y institute during the Christmas holi-days. In due time, Father Louis Putz, C.S.C., of the Department of Religion of Notre Dame University, .was engaged as the workshop moderator; and a committee of eight sisters representing different age and occupation groups in the community was appointed to plan the sessions with Father Putz. From a considerable correspondence between Father Putz, Mother Martina, and the committee members prior to the arrival of Father Putz at the mother house, and from a half-day planning session of the committee and the leader after his arrival, evolved the subject matter of the discussions: "the spiritual and temporal good of the commu.nity, with emphasis on the relations between superibr and subjects." It was believed that the over-all subject for discussion should be definite but not too narrowly restricted, should represent some hierarchy of values, yet not be a mere string of non-debatable principles. All the workshop members attended the first general session, which was held in the auditorium. At this time, the ~hairman of the workshop committee sketched the procedure for the remainder of the day's sessions, and Father Putz presented his view of the value and method of.such a workshop, adapting in fact both the technique and the major emphasis of the Catholic Action cell movement :o this group. Father Putz stressed the necessity of rethinking certain practices of religious life in the light of prese.nt day temper but with relation to traditional and tried principles. He also urged that the observe-d.iscuss-act method of the cell movement be applied by the 287 SISTER M. JOSELYN Review ~or Religious sisters in a manner calculated to deepen and intensify the loving union of the community members functioning as a family or ecclesiola within the Mystical Body of Christ. At this time, the committee distributed to all members of the workshop an outline to guide the day's discusssion. The outline (which is appended) was to be regarded as a set of signposts, rather than as "material to be covered." The group was then divided into fourteen small sections by an" ingenious use of colored slips which had been handed out at the door. (Thus the divisions were abso-lutely random.) A meeting room was designated for each small group, most of which numbered about ten to fifteen. Within the groups, a leader and a recorder were informally appointed. The first discussion lasted about forty-five minutes, tending to begin rather timidly but to gain momentum through full participation as time went on. Throughout the session, Father Putz acted as "floating delegate," stopping in at various subgroup meetings. At the end of the morning session, each recorder presented to the entire group the findings of the subgroup to which she belonged. In this manner, conclusions or resolutions or questions were pooled; and it was possible to determine which problems were common to all subgroups as well as to ascertain the different views of a large num-ber of sisters on one general subject. At the conclusion of the first half-day session, certain questions arising from the morning's meet-ings were directed to Father Putz and to Mother Martina, both of whom aimed to focus attention on the general principle (rather than the specific practice) involved. The procedure for the afternoon session of the first day was the same as that for the morning session. At the end. of the first d~iy's discussions, Father Putz and the planning committee worked for several hours preparing permanent recommendations from the recorders' reports, evaluating the pro-cedures, and outlining the second day's program. It was decided that the large outline of the subject for the second day, "the temporal good of the community," instead of being given as a whole to each subgroup, would be divided into fourteen sections, each group re~ ceiving one segment of the topic, as designated on each sister's copy of the outline. (This outline is also appended.) On the second day, sisters engaged in hospital work held (at their own request) special sessions within the larger group, still following, however, the outline given to all. In every other respect, the second day's sessions were conducted" like the first day's. Since tb.e outlines of content are included in this article, it will Nooember, 1955 COMMUNITY WORKSHOP. not be necessary to describe iff detail the development of these topics in the small groups. Mother Martina did state at the closing session that "the discussion has pqinted up four areas which I have under consideration at present: delegation of authority, care of the aged, training of the young, and local and major superior relations." Effort was made by the~ planning committee to obtain an over-all picture of the participants' reaction to this first community work-shop; to this end the committee prepared and distributed at the last session a short questionnaire (appended) to be answered anony-mously by all who wished to do so and left in a designated place. The fact that many sisters had only a-few moments between the close of the workshop and their departure from the mother house may have a relation to the number of questionnaires turned in. Ac-cording to the committee's digest of the returned sheets, the seventy-nine respondents stated unanimously that they liked the workshop. Seventy said they would like another workshop (nine others did not answer- the question). More than thirty sisters suggested that they liked the workshop because it was an opportunity for each " sister to present her opinions and to hear the thinking of others on common problems, resulting in an intensified community spirit and a unity of effort for the common good. Others thought that "the earnest and high ideals so generally manifested among all the sisters gave a boost to one's courage and spiritual striving." Thus, the workshop "gave a real stimulus to live the ideal life of a religious, and it served as a fine personal examination. It stressed the idea that each individual sister, as a member of the Mystical Body, must help to make our Benedictine family a happy, ideal one." Others answer-ing the questionnaire noted that they liked the facts that "topics and discussion were handled objectively" and that "respect for the personality of each individual sister was stressed." Thirty-four sisters thought the qualifications of a superior had been adequately dis-cussed; forty-four= thought the relations between superior and sub-jects had been adequately discussed. In the appropriate sect!0n of .the questionnaire, many valuable, constructive suggesti~ons for improving future workshops were in-dicated by the participants. Adverse criticism~ of the workshop gen-d~ ally i~ciffd~d t~orelated t~oint.si in'light 6f th.e tjm'.e, available, too many topics were listed for. d!~.c~ssion,: .a.n.~do,. c.onsequently, some of the discussions were {6b general. A "desire whs manifested to con-tinue discussion of these subjects at a future date.~ It was also.sug-gested :.that,, the,, recommendations.,-of., the. ,-w. orksl-;£i~,] b~ ". ~:.m~riz4d 289 SISTER M. JOSELYN Reuiew for Religious and distributed to each sister and that'in the.coming year each mem-ber of the community take.note of "topics for future workshop dis, cussions. Among suggestions for future workshop subjects, the majority of sisters included the discussion of "the greater spiritual growth of our community through an interpretation of the Holy Rule and how to apply it to our daily life in modern times," "how we can better fulfill our end in religious life," and "how to balance the active and contemplative aspects of .our life." THE SPIRITUAL COMMON GOOD HOW TO PUT THE SPIRIT OF CHARITY INTO OUR RELIGIOUS FORMATION A, Prayer in general I, How to make the necessary ada.ptations to our community exercises a) Normal times b) Vacation time c) In sickness 2. .How to teach goqd prayer and help 'others to pray well. a) Piling up non-essential devotions which interfere with the true spirit of prayer 3. Penitential obligations at times of ember days and fast days a) How to keep in the spirit of the Church b) Charity iri fulfilling our obligation c) Humility to ask for dispensation0if we n~ed it 4. Obligation of silence and recollection in view of charity a) Maintaining silence outside of recreation time b) Charity toward those who must talk during silence time to relieve tension B. Spiritual formation in terms of.spiritual reading 1. H6w to translate the Gospels into life and action 2. How to make our life liturgical 3. \Vhat kind of spiritual reading makes the'liturgy richer and unifies our life as a community and as an, individual II. SACRAMENTS ¯ A. Eucharist 1. How do we prepare as a community to celebrate thoughtfully the Sacrifice? B. Penance 1. How to make an intelligent use of the sacrament of penance OUR RELA;FIONSHIP TO THE COMMUNITY A. How to promote in the community the unity of charity 1. Attitude toward one another 2. Toward superiors 3. Particularly to speak up where, it is necessary and calied for in Chapter and outside of Chapter TEMPORAL COMMON GOOD Groups 1, 2, 3, 4 I. THE SUPERIOR A. Do we look at the office of~superior as an honor and not a service? 29O November, 1955 COMMUNITY WORKSHOP Bo Is the superior submissive to her higher superior, or is she jealous of her own responsibility ? Is she choosey in observance o~ canon law? Distribution.of house duties, assignments, etc, 1. Prudence and fairness in distribution of house duties 2. Partiality or favoritism--allowing cliques to develop 3. Keeping peace by letting sisters do as they please 4. Playing up to flattery 5. Regarding sisters only as subjects who must obey 6. Suspicious of actions of sisters, judging interior sentiments 7. Overloading the willing Groups 5, 6, 7, 8 ' E. Does the "superior take the trouble to know all abou~ "each sister, her temperament, aptitudes, interests, in order to help her? 1. Does she try to develop the personalities of the sisters? 2. Does she have confidence in the sisters? 3. Does she lack discretion with the sisters? 4. Does she have objective rather than subjective attitude? F. Does the superior make herself inaccessible to the sisters? G. Is the superior w!lling to rethink the'function of the community? H. Are'subjects prepared technically and spiritually for their responsibilities? 1. Do you think obedience will cover inc'ompetence? 2. Do you act as though the office of superior gave universal competence? 3. Are young religious allowed to come to responsibilities for which they may be capable? 1. Spending" money for luxuries or extras and not buying the essentials for school or mission !. Confusing the spirit of economy with spirit o~f poverty 2. Being overconcerned about food, clothing, rooms Groups 9, 10, 11 II. CHOICE OF SUBJECTS A. ~ccepting postulants without sufficient health, intelligence, or social ap-titudes B. Accepting religious into profession who are not fitted for community life C. Minimizing obligations of religious life for sake of attracting vocations 1. Spirit of sacrifice, motive for entering 2. Appeal to generosity 3. Indiscretion in fostering vocations. Groups 12, 13, 14 III. IV. RELATIONSHIP WITH THE CLERGY A. B. C. Do Relationship between principal and pastor Relationship between subjects and priests ¯ Willingness to advise clergy of indiscreet giving of gifts as tokens of ap-preciation Pastors and subjects channel activities through superior or principal Money collecting in Catholic schools 1. Red Cross, Red Feather, Sales, contributions, etc., etc., etc. 2. Sisters going into business for themselves RELATIONS WITH EXTERNS A. Civil law 1. Expecting privileges because we are religious 291 SISTER M. ,JOSELYN 2. Untruthfulness---cheating in filling out blanks, etc. 3. Apathy toward voting or in political affairs Parishioners 1. Making our friends on basis of prestige and money 2. Asking them for favors--rides, etc. 3. Hanging on to them after you are removed from the mission a) Writing to them b) Visiting them, etc. Are you a Superior__ or Subject~ EVALUATION FORM 1. Did you like the workshop? Yes. No. Why? 2. Do you think the qualities of a superior were adequately discussed? List qualities unmentioned. 3. Was relationship between superior and subject adequately discussed? 4. Give suggestions how you think ideas gained from the workshop can be put into practice in the community. I. 2. 3. 5. List any topics on superior-subject relationship of interest to you which were not discussed at this workshop. 6. Would you like future workshops? If so, suggest topics. 7. How could future workshops be improved? 8. Would you be interested in starting a study group on your mission? SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENTS t:ather Gerald Kelly, S.J., editor-in-ch~e~ of the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS suf-fered a severe heart attack on October 4. He is slowly recovering from it in St. Joseph's Hospital, Kansas City, Mo. Prayers for his successful recovery will be welcomed. In September, 1931~ a hurricane and the subsequent tidal wave destroyed St. John's College, Belize, British Honduras, and took the lives of eleven Jesuits and twenty-two.of the students. Considerable other damage was done in this mission of Missouri Province Jesuits. In October, 1955, the hurricane Janet brought fur-ther disaster to the mission. Kindly remember the Belize mission in your prayers. The Dominican Rural Missionaries, whose work in Louisiana was described in our July, 1954~, number, page 217, were victims of another kind of tragedy. On January 16, 1955, the entire' community of their convent at Grosse Tete, Louisiana (three sisters and an aspirant), were killed when their statio._n wag'on was struck by a freight train. The three sisters were killed instantly; the aspirant sur-vived one day. This congregation is interested not only in prayers a'nd in more vocations to their own institute but also in finding young women who would be inte'rested in" helping t~em as ~ay al~ostles. " If ~U hav~ "pertinent information' for them or wish further information ~igm th~'m~" ~vrite tS: Si~'ter Marie Elisabeth, O.P., Our L~dy of Father Titus Cranny S.A has prepar~ed a small volume entitled Father Paul, Apostle o~ !.Tn~t~l. Th,s paper-bound volume" would make good background read-ing for the Chair of Unity Octave, 2anuary 18-25. Graymooe Pre~, Peekskill, Renoval:ion and dapt:at:ion Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. THoEf imtphoer traenlicgeio oufs tlhifee mmoevr~eimtse anntd o rfe rqeuniroevsa rteiopnea atendd pardeasepntatatitoionn. The purpose of the present article is to give a synthesis.of the movement, to clarify its concepts, and to emphasize its principles, spirit, and more practical headings. The originality of the article, if any exists, will thus be in its arrangement, not in content. The article is directed more particularly, but not exclusively, to lay in-stitutes of brothers, sisters, and nuns. I. RENOVATION The concepts of renovation and adaptation, as usually expressed by authors, partially coincide. If we separate them, renovation is to be conceived as the intensification of the entire ~eligious life of every individual religious and of every institute. This implies a greater personal conviction, esteem, and practice of the life of re-ligious sanctity, a more universally active zeal, a deeper sense of re-sponsibility, and a greater consciousness of the necessity of progress in the works.of the institute. In a word, renovation is a universal renewal of fervor; the movement under this aspect is primarily inspirational to a more perfect realization of the ideals of the re-ligious life. Renovation is more important than adaptation. It is idle to expect that a mere change of laws and observances will make an institute holier or more effective in its apostolate. Renovation is a prerequisite to adaptation. It has been well said that only the fervent can adapt. Proper adaptation demands clear spiritual visiqn and the humility to admit that something may be better than what we have been doing in the past. A conspicuously universal renova-tion is also difficult of attainment. An anonymous Camaldulese monk may be guilty of the exaggeration of pessimism, but he is not completely lacking in realism when he writes: "From experience we know that the exhortations of superiors, circular letters, conferences, constant vigilance, rewards, and corrections are very infrequently effective. Older religious have habits that are too deeply rooted; with difficulty they return to the path of full observance, even when convinced of their mistakes. The young more readily follow the 293 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Religious careless, the mediocre, who ordinarily are in t~e majority, while the fervent are everywhere pretty much a small minority.''1 II. ADAPTATION Adaptation is change. A law, regulation, custom, practice, ob-servance, or manner of thinking and acting should be changed when it has become harmful or useless for the end for which it was in-tended, when a certainly better means can now be found for~that end, or when another means is demanded by the sound progress, necessities, or problems of our age. The/fundamental necessity for adaptation is that the world in which we live and for which we work has changed greatly in practically every aspect. Hospitals of today are vastly diffe~erit from those of a hundred years ago. We have adapted in the care of the sick and in many other things; the goal now is to extend the principle of intelligent and prudent adap-tation to every aspect of the religious life. Adaptation is not reform, mitigation, or relakation. What it excludes is the principle of un-swerving material conformity to everything done in the past. It presumes that the old is good but does not refuse to abandon the old for something certainly better; it does not identify the modern with the good nor does it hold that the modern or new is necessarily evil it believes and emphasizes that there are immutables in religion but also that not all thing~ are immutable. Adaptation is life and recognizes that the la'w of life is gradual change and a mixture of the old and the new. The two evident errors in this matter have been expressed bY Plus XII as the childish and immoderate hankering after novelty and the solidifying of the Church in ~a sterile immutability.2 The errors are thus excessive conservatism and the desire of change for itself, a blind attachment to tradition and the scorn of tradition, no ~hange whatever and intemperate and imprudent .change. Authors describe the former as a scelerosis, a lack of life, incipient death, the latter as worldliness and naturalism. Adaptation is thee responsibility primarily of higher superiors. It should be accomplished according to the general norms g, iven by the Holy See, but it is not to be ex-pected that the Holy See will take upon itself and impose the hdapr tations necessary in each institute. Adaptation should be carried out prudently and in a spirit of calmness, peace, and unity. How- 1. Acta et Documenta Congressus Generalis de Statibus Perfectionis (Editiones. Paulinae), III, 603. 2. Ibid., I, 33. 294 Nooember, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION ever, the good of the institute is to be the supreme norm of action; and it is a fact of experience ,that some religious will oppose the most evidently necessary changes. III. WHAT CANNOT BE CHANGED The following are of their very nature excluded from adap-tation : 292 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. The general purpose of the religious life of complete evan-gelical perfection. The three religious vows and their essential objects, purpose, and spirit. The mortification and prayer necessary for the attainment of the purpose of the religious life. Anything commanded or forbidden by the law of the Church. The distinctive and solid spirit of the particular institute. Anything certainly essential or fundamental in, the pa.rticular institute. IV. MATTERS TO BE EXAMINED FOR POSSIBLE ADAPTATION It would be an evident exaggeration to say that eve.rything listed below should be matter for change in every instifute, All the mat-ters listed have been mentioned and more frequently emphasized in the discussions on adaptation. The list is a~range~ in the order of the concrete importance of the topics in the judgment of the writer. 1. Greater care in the admission of candidates arid more de-cisiveness in the early elimination of the unsuitable before perpetual profession. 2. The establishment ofa juniorate for sisters immediately after the noviceship, in which the young professed will com-plete their undergraduate education or training and continue their spiritual formation. 3. A sounder doctrinal formation in the postulancy, novice-ship, and juniorate. 4. The elimination of the prominent externalism and for-malism. 5. Proper concept of the founder or foundress. 6. Greater attention to the purpose and spirit of the vows rather than to their mere obligation. 7. A schedule of prayer that gives proper~ emphasis to mental 29,5 JOSEPH 1=. GALLON Reoieto for Religious prayer, is sufficiently liturgical, and not excessive in the quantity or in the importance placed on vocal pra~yer. 8. The direction of the works of the institute to the n~eds of our time, which in most institutes will consist of an emphasis on the works for the poor and the working class. 9. A horarium that is less contributory to tension and pro-vision for proper daily, weekly, and annual rest. 10. Greater care in the selection of and a previous training, if possible, of local superiors and novice masters and mistresses. 11. A government that is more spiritual, individual, paternal or maternal, and not lacking in the necessary firmness. 12. Establishment of a tertianship and, perhaps, 'of a period of recollection before perpetual profession. 13. Greater emphasis on maturity, a sense of responsibility, dependability, efficiency, and proper initiative in the train-ing of religious. 14. Simplification of the religious habit. 15. Higher intellectual standards in continued study and prepar-ation for classes. 16. Elimination of the continuous rotation of the same superiors. 17. Greater mutual knowledge, cooperation, and attention to the interests of other religious institutes. 18. Possible extension of the period of temporary vows to five years. 19. Pertinent canonical matters.' V. EXPLANATION OF MATTERS OF ADAPTATION 1. Greater care in admission. The principle of St. Plus X that there is no greater cause of the weakening of religious discipline than the careless admission of candidates ~s of universal validity.3 The fundamental defect here is the failure to grasp and act on the evident principle that anyone lacking the suitability for the life and works of the institute does not possess a vocation for that institute. The grace of the omniscient God is not moving anyone to a state of life for .which he is not fitted. Therefore, the need for religious is never a justification for the admission or retention in the pro-bationary states of those who do not possess the capabilities for the particular institute. The modern innovation proposed under this heading is that 3. Epistle, Inter Plura, May 31, 1905, to the.Abbot General of the Order of Re-formed Cistercians, Ench&idion de Statibus Perfectionis, n. 248. ~ 296 November, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION of psychological testing. A principle of adaptation is that we should be wil.ling to accept all that is, good in modern progress. Such test-ing, when practicable, can be an aid; but it will never exclude the necessity of the considered and experien,,~ed judgment and proper ¯ firmness of a competent higher superior. To me it is also a certain fact of experience that the great majorityI at least of the outstand-ingly difficult cases were sufficiently evident to such a judgment either before admission or at the latest during the probationary states of the religious life. 2, 18. Establishment ot: a juniorate for sisters and extension ot: temporarg profession. The completion of the undergraduate studies of sisters immediately after the noviceship is necessary for their own spiritual, intellectual, psychological, and physical well-being, and for the maintaining and elevating of the standards of Catholic edu-. cation. Plus XII manifested to superiors his keen desire that the schools taught by sisters be the very best and also stated that the training of all sisters should put them on an equal footing with their secular colleagues: The Sacred Congregation of Religious af-firmed that it is rash to expect a subject immediately after the almost exclusively religious formation of the postulancy and noviceship to be a teacher and much less a serious educator, even for very young children. This demands suitable preparation, and the S. Congre-gation insisted that such training was to be given despite the im-mediate need for teachers. It is evident that the assignment of postu-lants and second-year novices as regular teachers is an even greater abuse. ~ This heading reveals another distinctive principle of the move-ment of adaptation, which is that of the elevation of the spiritual, intellectual, cultural, and professional equipment of religious. It is also a very apt illustration of an even more fundamental norm of the movement--we cannot reasonably continue to do everything in a particular way just because it was done that way in the past. Educational and professional demands are much greater today; they must be met with much better preparation. The entire matter of the juniorate in this country is 'being ad-mirably promoted by the Slster-Formatlon Conferences of the Na-tional Catholic Educational A~sociation. This also exemplifies a principle of the movement. Adaptation is vital action; it is life, action, and progress from within. The attention given to the intellectual and professional train-ing should n'ot obscure the even greater necessity of continued spit- 297 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review ~or Religious itual formation in the juniorate. An equally urgent need of young professed is that of-competent and prudent guidance in the difficult adjustment of the first'years in" the acti~ce life. This will demand the continuation of the office of a mistress of junior professed for at least two years after the juniorate. The juniorate will consume all or most of the u~ual three-year period of temporary vows, and thus the question :can arise whether this period gives sufficient testing in the active life before perpetual profession. The ready solution is an extension of temporary pro-fession to five years. In such a system the Code of Canon Law per-mits a prolongation of only one year. This is a change in the con-stitutions and should be decided upon only after serious reflection. It demands the approval of'the Holy See in~ pontifical institutes and that of all ,the ordinaries in whose dioceses the congregation has houses in the case of diocesan.institutes; 3. Sounder doctrinal spiritual formation. Sufficiently common defects .in American novitiates are the application of' the postulants and second-year novices to the external works of the institute, the excessive employment of both classes in domestic duties, the small amount of instruction given in the religious life, an overemphasis of secular studies; and the prominent tendency to confine the religious life to mere externals and to external regularity and conformity. The modern generation is decidedly factual and can readily fall into disillusionment and even cynicism from such a postulancy or novice-ship. The master or mistress of novices should give an instruction of at least forty-five minutes on all days except holidays. These in-structions are not to be confined to the vows but should cover the entire field of ascetical theology during the postulancy and novice-ship. The concepts and principles are to be presented solidly, not sentimentally nor with, mere devotionalism, and not in mere prac-tical illustrations that are not reduced to principles. Solid presen-tation demands that the theological foundation of principles be given. The movement of renovation and adaptation contributes several valuable principles in this field. The first is that no spirituality is lasting unless based on personal conviction. The second is that we can no longer be content with a mere collective presentation; the emphasis must be on individual guidance. The third is that there must be an active participation by the postulants and novices in this work of their own instruction. They should be permitted freely to ask questions and to propose difficulties; they should be. aptly November,, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION questioned on their grasp of spiritual principles; there should be discussions, brief papers on :some spiritual topic, on the ideas ac-quired from the reading of a spiritual book, or on some spiritual prob-lems or difficulties. Other techniques and methods will be found by a real teacher. The purpose, however, must always be to lead the will to action, notthe mere acquisition of knowledge.;~and there must never be any doubt that the master or mistress is in charge. We must abandon the unsound pedagogy that an idea once presented to a group is understood by all. This is true of no teaching and much less of spiritual teaching. ~Fhere must be an adequate spiritual li-brary, sufficient time °for spiritual reading, and proper guidance in this reading. One author l~as aptly expressed a .very practical truth by stating that the poverty of a spiritual life is very frequently the poverty of proper and constant spiritual reading. Proper instruction, individual and competent guidance, and patience will usually succeed in directing the tendencies and defects of the modern generation into good qualities. For example, their independence of judgmen.t and ac.tion, .demand for reasonableness and sincerity, and 'desire for personal initiative can be developed into a profound and lasting.conviction of spiritual values. Their realism, sincerity, and generosity will be ultimately docile to a spiritual for-mation that is interior, solid, individual, that makes legitimate al-lowance for different personalities, is not bent on crushing them, and is not dominated by a multitude of petty details.and formalities. 4. Externalism and [ormalism. This is the most.frequ~,ent topic in the discussions on adaptation. The problem is found principally in the ,customs, observances, and practices, written and unwritten, of 'religious institutes. A certain amount of ,regulation is obviously necessary for order and efficiency. Apart from this, external ob-servances have no place in the religious life merely for themselves; their purpose must be the cultivation of the interior virtues of the ~eligious life, for example, love of God, humility, chastity, mortifi-cation, obedience, prayer. Consequently they must be of such a. nature as to constitute apt means for the fostering of such virtues. The first principle of adaptation here is that the purpose 6f observances ,is not being realized. This defect is very universal, especially, but not solely, in institutes of women. Religious forma-tion has been too narrowly confined to externals, external disci-pline, external regularity and conformity; there has been too little; training in the interior life and interior ~'irtue. The moral value of an external act consists in the fact that it proceeds from an interior 299 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review for Reliqiotts act of virtue of the will or that it leads to or intensifies such an act. Sincere interior virtue will produce the proper external act; the religious who is sincerely poor in heart will be poor in act. It is very possible to de-emphasize and even to ignore in fact this pur-pose both in formation and in our own personal lives. Instead of saintly religious, we may be tending to train spiritual robots. Modesty of the eyes is not a virtue because I never see the leaves of the trees unfold in spring or do not know the color of the ceiling; it is a virtue only if it proceeds from the consecration of my heart to God, protects that consecration, and lead~ me ultimately to greater love of God. The profit of silence is not precisely in the low score of the examen book but in the increase of my spirit of prayer. A similar defective tendency is the attitude towards "our h01y rule." The rule is really not holy in itself; its holiness is verified only insofar as, it contains and leads to a love of and assimilation to Jesus Christ. It is basically misguided formation to propose the rule independently of this assimilation and especially to extol it above such assimilation or the laws of God. The overemphasis on externals has led to their excessive multi-plication. They extend to all and to the.smallest details of life. We .may be wearing a tight harness of sanctity that will not allow us to move or to breathe; we are praising the observant religious and have forgotten the saintly religious. Excessive observances are a dry diet of spiritual shredded wheat. The soul lacks a richness of spirituality, is superficial, and dulled to the great truths and person of Jesus Christ. It is not a satisfying diet, and usually a few years suffice for the loss of spiritual appetite and the symptoms of a lowered and even critical spiritual vigor and tone. Another defect of very many observances is that they either were never apt or have lost their aptness for their purpose. Why should sisters be forbidden to eat in a dining car but be allowed to request a waiter to set up a table in another railroad car that will make them even "more conspicuous? I think it is reasonable to avoid the expensive dining car whenever possible, but I can see no reason for a prohibition of eating there when~ necessary. Why should sisters be forbidden to eat even with sisters of other communities? Why is it a violation of cioister to enter the home of your family but meritorious to sit in a car outside their home. and talk to them? Are such artificialities in keeping with the saneness of sanctity, with the majesty of the doctrines and person of Jesus Christ? Reverefice and politeness are to be fostered; but are all the profound bows of 300 November, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION the head and Of the body, all the kissing of hands, and all the kneel-ing to superiors apt means today of expressing this reverence and politeness? Why in a life whose spirit is that of humility and of a family must there be precedence in the refectory and community room? These are only a very few examples of a very Widespread defect. Observances should be the external expression of the spirit of the institute and of the founder. In the thought of one author they should possess the perpetuity~ of real life transmitted from gen-eration to generation but not the perpetuity of fossilization. Obedience and submission are evidently due to prescribed ob-servances, but superiors should examine whether their number is excessive and their nature now apt for their purpose. There is also too much legalism, the material satisfaction of the mere wording of the law, in institutes of both men and women; and too little at-tention to the purpose of the law, its more perfect fulfillment, and to motivation. Legalism is clearly destructive of an interior life. Religious discipline is also frequently enforced with an unreasonable rigidity. Religious know that it is possible to be excused or dis-pensed from the laws of the Church, for example, from Sunday Mass or from fasting; but observances are often proposed as if they never admitted an excuse or dispensation. I am not encouraging laxity but discouraging rigorism; there must be a proportionate reason for an excuse or dispensation. Observances are the field of conduct that demands the most searching examination by superiors. It is the field of which Pius XII said: "In this crisis of vocations make sure that nothing in your customs, your manner of life, or the ascetical practices of your religious families is an obstacle or a cause of loss of vocations. We mean certain usages which, if ever suited to another cultural context, are out of place today, so that even a really good and courageous girl would find them only an obstacle to her voca-tion." 4 5. Concept of a founder. The concept of a founder or foundress has been too narrowly that of a lawgiver and ofimmutable laws. The Pope has stated .that founders frequently .conceived their in-stitutes to meet the needs of their own age and thus erected their institutes on the principle of adaptation. He concludes from this that lo.yalty to the founder requires constant observance of the prin- 'ciple of adaptation and the acceptance of all that is good in the be-liefs, convictions, and conduct of our contemporaries. This dem~inds 4. Acta Apostolicae Sedis~ XXXXIV ('1952), 825. ¯ '30.1 JOSEPH, F. GALLEN 'Reoiew for Religious that we distinguish the essential and immutable from the'_accidental and changeable in the words and works of the founder and that we do not follow as a rigid norm what the founder, did but rather the pliable norm of what he would do in any aspect of life if he were faced by our own age. Furthermore, the founder is not a mere giver of 'laws but also and primarily ~a giver of life to his "institute. ~ That life is his distinctive spirit, which consists in his approach to the spiritual life, his characteristic virtues, the principles he emphasized, his manner of approaching life and its problems, and the general types of works of zeal that he favored. Our fidelity to our founder is to be yerified in the repr, oduction of his life and spirit, not in the mere unwillingness to change even the slightest detail of his least law. 6, 13. The uows and training in maturity. The movement of renovation and adaptation finds in the vows one of the conspicuous fields of juridicism, that is, the overemphasis on laws to the detri-ment of the theological elements of the purposfi and spirit of the vows and their efficacy for the acquiring of many interior virtues. To secure permission is important; but it is more important to ad-vance by poverty in the love of God, to be detached from the love of material things for themselyes, to make progress in trust in divine providence, patiegce, meekness, humility, and the spirit, of mortifi-cation. The vow of chastity has not attained its purpose,unless it is increasing the .love of God, 'love of other human beings in and for God, devotion to prayer and the interior life with God, affection and intimacy with God in prayer, and .making life less materialistic. Obedience is a sterile vow unless it is intensifying especially love of God, faith, and humility,, and also docility to grace,~zeal, the spir~'t of self-denial, and generosity. In a word, obedience is effective to the degree that a theocentric has'supplanted an egoistic life. The obligation of the vow and of the laws of the Church on poverty is confined to external actions. It is, however, a "field of conduct that demands the constant vigilance of superiors. The coun-sels of Plus XII in this matter are that the life of religious ~hould b~ truly simple a~id poor, their houses should be simple, and their actions in poverty should not contradict nor ddstroy their profession of it in word. The buildings of religious, even those used for ex-ternal works, should be efficient, sanitary, not unattractive, but simple, and devoid of even the appeararice of luxury, "indulgence, extravagance, or needless expense. It is surprising holy. often this point has been emphasized by authors on adaptation. One of them has called the propensity~ to expensive buildings and .renovations ~302 Nooember, 1955. RENOVATION AND ADKPTATION "stone disease"; it could also be termed "Gothic poverty." Such bhild=. ings create the impression of hav!ng been erected to" attract the rith. and thus tend to the tragic tonsequence of alienating the pobr:~ Authors follow the Pope in' stressing the need of a truly simple and poor life in everything--buildings, lodging, furniture, fbod,' medical care, all personal accessories, amusements, vacations, journeys, and means of travel. Modern material developments are to be used insofar as they increase efficiency, preserve or promote health; bu( they are to be rejected" when their purpose is on.ly comfort, indul-gence, luxury. / Pius XII has reaffirmed the validity and supreme value of the traditional concept of the vow of obedience. He has also implied or stated that the modern apostolate requires one. who can face boldly the gigantic tasks of our age, one able to meet its d~ngers, overcome its spiritual destitution, competent to .think for himself, and formed to maturity of judgment. These are not the tasks nor th~ endow-" ments of a child. The modern evils of communism, atheism, and secularism are not trembling at the child_ishness of their foes. The purpose of obedience is to develop the good in man, to eliminate the" evil. The ability to think for oneself, to get a new idea at least oc.casionally, maturity of judgment and action, the power of de-cision, legitimate self-initiative, efficiency, dependability, and a sense of responsibility are not evils and are necessary for success in any state of life. Obedience should not be presented nor authority exer, cised in a way that destroys or fails to develop these necessary capa-bilities. Obedience is too often presented as the mere order of a superior and the submission of a subject. Ancient comparisons that illustrate the perfection of external obedience unfortunately have the defect of connoting a passive reaction on the part of the subject. Obedience is p.rimarily an instrument of personal sanctification, and no one except the infant is sanctified in passivity. Insistence on the purpose and spirit of the vow will bring out that this vow demands a truly tremendous vital reaction of love of God, faith, and humility. The subject gains the merit of the vow by having it as his motive, and such a motive is to be presumed in the actions of a religious. The superior should govern sufficiently but not excessively; a~ad it is certainly not necessary, profitable, prudent, or formative for him to step into or order every detail of an action or work. If you want the child to walk, you have to allow him to fall a few times. This mellow proverb is true in work, study, and also in the spiritual .life. The religious life is not a democracy; religious are subjects, n6t 303 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Review [or Religious associates, of the superio~ They are also human beings. They should be allowed and encouraged to get new ideas. The superior is the competent authority to accept or reject and also to,encourage such ideas; but he should not confine all ideas in the house, province, or institute to his own. A religious or novice may find a better way of doing an-assigned duty or work, or he may do it in his own in-dividual way.' In most cases this can be permitted. Everything does not have to be done always in the same way. The counsels of per-fection are not the freezing point of human endeavor and ingenuity. A religious or novice should be given the necessary instructions for an assigned duty or work; if he does it childishly, inefficiently, care-lessly, he should be firmly checked. The religious life must not be the cradle of ineptitude. The qualities described above should be formed continuously in all aspects of the religious life, spiritual, in-tellectual, and the life of work. The childishness of many religious is an actual problem and one that cannot be ignored. The Pope has praised the great things that obedience accomplishes by uniting the forces of the members of the institute. The efficacy of this union is in fact greatly diminished by the childishness that makes a member unable to handle his assignment or his proportionate amount of the effort. Instead of united effort, the union of. obedience is too often that of the few carrying the many. 7. Pra~ter. In a previous article in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, I tried to explain the principles of adaptation with regard to prayer~ A few added comments will s~uffice here. The spirit of prayer and habitual self-denial will always be the distinguishing marks of the sincere religious. Both have been emphasized by Plus XII. He has insisted on the necessity of an interior life, that it should main-tain a constant balance with external activity, and has reprobated as the heresy of activity the intense apostolate that is not constantly nourished by the use of the ordinary means of personal sanctification. These emphatic words of His Holiness evidently imply an equally emphatic obligation of superiors to insist on the use of these means by their subjects. The errors of men and women in this matter are not the same. The woman tends to the misdirected prayer of de-votionalism rather than to the prayer of sanctity; the danger of man is of infidelity to his religious exercises. The latter is certainly fre-quently caused by valuing work over prayer and even more fre-quently by the simple omission and neglect of prayer. Excessive activity is not the only cause of a feeble interior life. It must be 5. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XIII (1954), 125-37. 304 November, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION remembered that the idle apostle is rarely the mystic of the monas-tery. The diagnosis of external idleness is most infrequently that of a local infection. It is an anemia of the person that extends to all activity. W'hy are so. many. superiors disturbed at violations of religious discipline and yet completely unconscious of so basic an evil as idleness? A fundamental principle of adaptation is the hier-archy of values. ~rriters on adaptation are quite insistent on the value of litur-gical prayer. There should be sufficient liturgical prayer, but the, choral recitation of the Office should not be urged to a degree or quantity thfit is !mpracticable in so many congregations of lay re-ligious. I also cannot see the all-sufficiency of the Office, for example, that it can supply for regular mental prayer in a life dedicated to sanctity. One or two authors bemoan the ignorance of Latin in lay religious, who thus do not understand so much of their prayer. The remedy suggested is a sufficient study of Latin. Is there any real hope that this remedy will be generally effective? It is not contrary to th~ present spirit of the Church to be more attentive to the use of the vernacular as the language of prayer. In some institutes the prayers are in a foreign language, usually that of the country of origin of the institute. When this is no longer a spoken language of the majority of those entering the part of the institute in question, isn't it time at least to begin to think of changing the language to that of the country? Plus XII stated that the missionary possesses no office of transplanting a specifically European culture to mission lands.6 Religious institutes likewise should not impose the nation-ality of the country of their origin on members of other nations. 8. Works of the institute. A study of the documents of Piu~ XII leads to the opinion that his basic motive in promoting the movement of renovation and adaptation is the apostolate. An under-lying thought can be sensed in his words that communism, atheism, secularism, paganism, and materialism would not be strong and belligerent today if religious had measured up to their exalted voca-tion in both prayer and an enlightened and laborious zeal. He urges a laborious zeal, since he has not only reprobated the heresy of ac-tivity but has also warned of the dangers of an idle and indolent life. He has emphasized the necessity of an enlightened zeal. This de-mands the i~se of all appropriate new forms and methods of the apostolate and of all modern developments for the spread of the 6.Acta Apostolicae 8edis, XXXVI (1944), .21'0, . 305 JOSEPH F. GALLEN Re~,iew "f~o~ Religiods Kingdom 6f Jesus¯ Christ. An enlightened zeal also directs its ef-forts primarily t6' combat' the great evils of the age and to prevent their'diffusion. Various documefits of Pius XII lead to the belief that he considers the dechristiafiization of the poor and the working class as the great danger of our age. Other classes' are not to be ignored, but the distinctive impression of the apostolate of r~lig_ious institutes in general should be that it is directed to the poor and the working class. This is also the spirit of the life and teaching of Jesus Christ. Most religious institutes were born of a love of the poor and unfortunate. The preservation Of such a solid spirit is one of the immutables of the religious life. A work such as the parish school is not only a glorious and niost necessary apostolate but also a pr6: tection of this spirit. Several authors have commented on the ten-dency'of some institutes founded for thd poor gradually to orientate themselves towards the higher classes and the rich. They draw-away from the poor, and the poor draw away from them. In speaking of the apostolate for the poor and the working class, the present Pope has instructed priests to become brothers to brothers and to mix their apostolic Sweat with that of the.working men.7 Religious also must exercise this apostolate in a spirit of understanding, com-panionship, closeness to the poor and their problems, and not in that of a generous and kind but aloof and superior caste of society. Religious poverty has the apostolic purpose "of enlightening and impelling mankind to.the proper evaluation and use of material things. We have to live, but this purpose demands that we exclude com-mercialism and the motive of gain from our apostolate. It is cer, tainly not against poverty to keep accurate accounts, but the spirit of 'poverty and its apostolic purpose require also that we examine ourselves frequently as individuals .on how much we are doing for nothing and as institutes on how much we are giving away. All institutes, especially of sisters, should refuse new works when their overworked members can scarcely carry out their present en-gagements. In taking new works, congregations of sisters should be more attentive to the missions. Pius XII stated: "The apostolate of the Church today is scarcely conceivable without the cooperation of religious women in works of c.harity, in the school, in assistance to the pries.tly ministry, in the missions,s " 9. Horariurn. The horarium should be in conformity .with the customs and de,m.ands of the age, the place, and the work. The 7. Ibid., XXXXI (1949), 65. ~8. Ibid., XXXXI (1949), 41). November, 1955 RENOVATION AND-ADAPTATION horarium is frequently a most evident proof of the excessive and tenacious attachment to tradition. It is not reasonable to insist that the meals be at the same hours as during the life of a founder who died several centuries ago or.to leave the horarium unchanged for more than a centu~ry. A religious house is not a fortified island of anachronism in a changing world. The test of a horarium is not its antiquity but its ~uitability and efficiency. Admittedly the life of religious should be one of laborious zeal, but the work can be excessive and can hinder or even exclude ade-quate prayer. One author has pointed out that the amount of work of some religious clearly excludes the nature of the mixed ,life, the proportionate union of the contemplative with the active life. S~- periors are to do everything possible to make a life of. praye~ ade-tqhuea toenllyy poobssstiabcllee ftoor parlal ytehre:i rit s iusb ajuegctms.e Tntheed tbeyn stihoen. toefn wsioonrk o ifs t h.neot horarium. There is a minimum of calm, quiet, and peace necessary for a prayerful life. The habitually excited religious cannot be a .prayerful religious. The daily life of too many lay religious is a scurrying, headlong, excited, and feverish rush from duty to duty. There are difficulties in adjusting, the horarium, but some adjust-ment is possible. It must be less minute, 'less oppressive, less insistent on e.verytbing in common; there must be more breaks, more free time, more attention to rest, and more easing of the tension. Re; ligious should be give.n adequate time for their meals, and 'the time immediately before and after meals should not be one of' compressed activity. The religious life is not a tight winding of the human mechanism. The prolonged day of many lay religious demands a physical strength and emotional stability that may be desirable but are rarely attainable. That "a sister nurse should not be given a weekly holiday is one of the inexplicable facts of the religious life, especially when we reflect that her immediate superior has a knowledge of medicine and may. even be meritoriously dabbling in psychoso-matic medicine. The same is true of sisters in institutional work. The week end should not be considered the natural depository for all 'spiritual and qther duties that cannot be squeezed into the week. Other contributing factors to the constant nervous strain are an exaggerated notion Of common life and an excessive, number' of permissions. Common life does not forbid private rooms nor that religious study in their roc~ms. It does not demand tl~at everythifig be done together nor that religious be always together. Life becomes too tense when religious may never go to their rooms, without: the- 307 JOSEPH F. GALLEN / Reoieto for Religio-s permission of the superior, except for the night's sleep. Express per-mission should be necessary for relatively important matters and to the degree that is necessary to .keep obedience reasonably active, but express and particular permission should not be required for the most ordinary and usual actions of everyday life. The number of permissions necessary in many institutes is unreasonable. Local superiors of houses that are not extraordinarily large have admi~tted that practically their whole day consists in sitting in their office and handing out permissions. Such a life is,not only tense; it is imma-ture and an immature exercise of authority. The overworked lives of lay religious demand a proportionate annual vacation. Each in-stitute should strive to have an appropriate vacation place for its members. This will also eliminate the individual vacations that are not conducive to the religious spirit and much less to religious poverty. 10. Selection of local superiors. In my opinion, nothing is more valuable and necessary to religious institute's than outstandingly capable higher superiors, general and provincial. However, the ef-forts of the most talented higher superiors can be frustrated by inept local superiors; and there are few higher superiors who do not re-alize the shortage of capable local superiors. I think we should ad-mit the actual scarcity of the talents required for this position. The sincere admission of this fact has led several authors to suggest a school or previous training for local superiors. I do not see the practicability of the suggestion of a school. It is not impractical to emphasize that one of the most important duties of a higher superior and his or her council is to make a thorough investigation and to give most careful and prolonged thought to the appointment of local superiors. Some previous instruction is possible, especially when all the local superiors in any one year go into office on the same day. They can be brought to the mother house a few weeks before they are to take office, can study the constitutions, and other laws of the institute, be given conferences on government and its problems by the higher superior, on points of the constitutions by the master or mistress of novices, on financial and material matters by the general or provincial treas.ure.r, and on the works of the institute by the various supervisors of these works. One of the real obstacle~ to proper local government is that the local superior is overworked. In some institutes all local government and administration is personally discharged hy the local superior. All government," discipline, "permisSions, finances, m~iterial n(cessiti~s, and" direction of ~he work of th~ h6us~'~re~un'der'him' alone. The 308 November, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION superior would be relieved of overwork, the government could be more spiritual and efficient, and greater opportunity for training others in the exercise of authority would be realized by giving the local superior some help, for example, by having the local assistant take care of ordinary matters of discipline, ordinary permissions, and the material nee~ls of the house and its members. The same question of preparation arises with regard to masters and mistresses of novices. The suggestion of a school is not so im-practicable here, but the general necessity of a prolonged and con-tinuous course of preparation can also be exaggerated. The religious chosen for this position should be of solid spirituality, prudence, mature judgment, and of more than average intelligence and learn-ing. If the institute is clerical, I do not see why such personal qual-ities and his background of dogmatic and moral theology would not enable a priest to master and to present properly the principles of the spiritual life from his own private study. Brothers and sisters also are now more frequently being given theological train-ing. Such training is to be taken into account in making this appoint-ment. It is evident also that theological knowledge alone is not sufficient for the appointment. Brothers and sisters could also at-tend summer courses in ascetical theology or the various institutes on the religious life now being held during the summer. 11. Government. There are few sincere religious who do not sympathize with superiors in their difficult and burdensome duties. Everything in the religious life depends in some way on superiors, and thus the movement of renovation and adaptation will be in-efficacious without their comprehension, cooperation,, and personal participation. The aspect of renovation demands that the govern-ment of superiors be more universally spiritual. Their first duty is to direct their subjects to the essential and universal purpose of the religious state, sanctity of life. It is a certain fact of experience that they will fail in this duty if they themselves are mediocre, indiffer-ent~ or not striving at all for sanctity of life. Superiors who are mere executives, financiers, expert in public relations, good managers, skilled directprs of external works, and those who have lost famili-arity with spiritual principles or are spiritually illiterate have al-ready failed in their first essential duty. Their talents can be em-ployed in other posts; they should not be superiors of religious com-munities. The movement of adaptation strives to intensify, not to lower, the primacy of the essential purpose of the religious life. A not infrequent complaint of subjects is. that their superiors are in- JOSEPH, F. GALLEN ~: Review for? Religious competent or simply not interested in spiritual problems and ques~ tions. The field of religious government and that of conscience hav, e already been explained in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS.9 In talking to subjects on matters within the field of go(~ernment, ,superiors are certain.ly not forbidden to speak of such things as the necessity and importance of the irlterior life or to suggest supernatural motives or practices. They may also speak freely on general spiritual~matters, for example, the necessity, value, methods, and difficulties of prayer. Canon law forbids that a manifestation of conscience be commanded .or induced; it does not forbid any religious superior, including those of lay institutes, to receive a voluntary manifestation of conscience. This law of the Church has been misunderstood. The superior is not to intrude himself into the field of conscience but he is not for-bidden to listen to and to. give advice 'on any such matter that is freely and spontaneously proposed to him. Such manifestations will not be realized unless the superior is sufficienly spiritual himself, spiritually competent with regard to others, and able to inspire their confidence. It is to be equally emphasized that subjects are always free in this matter. Superiors have two practical advantages in spir-itual directiofl that are of no small value in many cases, external knowledge and observation of the subject and the authority to take effective action to aid the subject. ~ Spiritual direction in general is a sufficiently frequent topic in the discussions on adaptation. It 'seems evident enough that habitual spiritual direction is necessary for young religious in the states of formation, adjustment to the active life, and that of the tertianship or period of renovation of spirit. There can be differences of opinion in this sufficiently delicate matter. My own opinion is that any spiritual formation should strive to produce within a reasonable period a formed religious. I conceive a formed religious as one who habitually, with the grace of God, can direct himself or herself. The necessity of spiritual direction for such a religious should be occa-sional, for ~xample, two to four times a year, not habitual., Such a necessity is often satisfied at the retreats or in some cases by the religious superior. Habitual direction is necessary for those who have peculiar problems, and here also the prudent director strives as soon as possible at least to diminish the problem. To me it is by -no means evident that greater sanctity of life necessarily, demands 9. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XII (1953), 30-31. ¯ '3~10 November, 1955 RENOVATION'AND ADAPTA~IION habitual special direction. M~ ~xperience of such religious is that they-have common sense and are merely doing the ordinary things in a more perfect and constant' manner. I am aware of the religious proverb that it is dangerous to,run along .witho'ut the advice of the elders. Most proverbs are only partial truths. Excessive dependence on others is also an evil. Religious are adults; they should live an adult life. No one can live another's life or shoulder another's re-sponsibility before God. Spiritual formation should prepare for life, and the irrefutable fact of the life of the soul is that it must be lived for the most part alone.Relatively very few decisions of the life of the soul can await consultation with a director. There should also be hope of reasonable and proportionate profit in spiritual di-rection. Does experience show any such profit from the habitual direction of chronic mediocre and indifferent religious? Isn't too much direction being "expended in their behalf? No one denies that there should be as much liberty of confession as is possible. This wisdom is evident in the laws and spirit of the Church, but spiritual direction and confession are not identical. The Pope has manifested the necessity of maternal government in instit~tes of women. The same thing has been emphasized by authors as also the need and value of paternal government in insti-tutes of men. This demands no small capabilities in the superior. He must put aside personal and natural indifferences, attractions, and repugnances, and have a supernatural love and interest in all his sub-jects. He has to put off th~ smallness of a vision confined to little things and of a mere prefect of religio~s discipline. He must possess the humility to realize that the office is not for himself; he is not to impose his will but to find the will of God 'for his subjects. Paternal government is a giving, not a receiving; it is selflessness, not self-interest or self-indulgence. The office of superior cannot be one of personal aggrandizement; the superior has no right to material concessions and indulgences or to freedom from religious discipline al~ove his subjects. The superior cannot be cold, harsh, or unfeeling; he must be outstanding in divine charity, mercy, gentle-ness, humility, calmness, politeness, and the capability of guiding a community not so much by ~the tables~of the law as by creating the spirit of a family, of confidence, and cooperation. Paternal gov-ernment is individual. The subject is not a numbered soldier; a community is not a¯mere total of subjects. The religious is to be treated as a son or daughter~. The superior, should know the sub-ject'} individual deficiencies and~ make appropriat& .allowance 311 JOSEPH F. GALLEN them. He~ should also know his individual abilities and strive to assign him to the work for which he is suited. There must be de-tachment in the religious life, but it is not sane government to con-ceive detachment as the nullification of all natural and acquired abilities. Pater~aal government can also be misunderstood by both su-perior and subject. It is certainly to be lavished especially on the aged and really sick. It is also to be extended to the odd, the trouble-some; the mediocre, the indifferent, the weak, the insincere, the lazy, and the childish, but it is not to be confined to them. I wish to break my frail lance in favor of the hard-working, the fervent, the normal. I suspect that many religious cannot meditate on the prodi-gal son without crushing a great sympathy for the elder son. These religious also are to be treated as sons and daughters of the house-hold, not as cousins twice removed from their weaker and childish brethren. Paternal government is not sentimentality, softness; nor is it weakness. It is not to be understood in the sense that the superior always yields to the will of the subject. It is not an exaggeration to sa.y that quite a few communities are ruled by the subjects, and in such circumstances it is not the exemplary subjects who grasp the dragging reins or ease them from the nerveless fingers of the superior. It will not be without profit or interest to study the pertinent com-ments of some eminent and experienced authorities. Father Alberione, superior general of the Society of St. Paul, writes: "In institutes of men superiors sense the need of more means for securing obedience and of a wider path of dismissal. In too many institutes there are religious, especially priests, who do their own will and secure their own indulgence in almost everything; they spend the entire day in idleness and indolence or devote their time to criticism . Greater means would be necessary for the effective attainment of observance and religious activity.''1° Father Suarez, the late master general of the Dominicans, stated: "There should be greater facility in dis-missing religious as on their part the freedom of leaving. The rest, freed of the bad example and of seriously disobedient religious, could devote themselves more peacefully to the religious life.''11 Father Janssens, father general of the Society of Jesus, makes his own the words of an octogenarian of forty years of laudable experience as a superior: "They [superiors] do not nowadays dare to give an 10. Acta et Documenta Congressus Generalis de Statibus Perfections, I, 267-68. .11. Ibid., I, 257. 312 November, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION order; if they should, they do not dare to demand an account of its execution; if they do demand an account, they do not dare to sanc-tion negligence with. penances.''12 Finally, Father Creusen, S.J.: "In superiors of men it is not unusual to observe the lack of authority and government; in superiors of women, the contrary. The former~ should be impressed with the necessity of demanding observance of the rule, of fostering the virtues that correspond to the'vows, of not granting excessive liberty to subjects, "and so forth; to superiors of women one should rather emphasize the need of maternal govern-ment, of appealing to supernatural motives, not to their personal authority, and so forth.''13 A similar topic is that there should be more, though not ex-cessive, government by higher superiors. Too frequently these ap-pear to be insulated in their offices except for the annual appoint-ments and the canonical visitation. The latter can also readily de-generate into little more than a formality. One somewhat modern-means of accomplishing this necessary contact and government is by meetings, for example, with the superiors and appropriate offi-cials of the houses of formation, with all the local superiors or those ,of a particular territory, with those in charge of the external works in local houses, with the general or provincial supervisors of these works. Such meetings will further religious discipline, proper uni-formity, general progress, and help to prevent the perpetuating of the same problems. 12. Tertiansl~ip. In this matter clarity and distinction of con-cepts are desirable. Spiritual formation is begun in the postulancy and noviceship: it is continued in the juniorate. There should also be special guidance during the period of adjustment to the active life. When a juniorate is in existence, there seems to be little need of a prolonged period of spiritual formation before perpetual pro-fession. Most institutes have only three years of temporary vows, ¯ and thus perpetual professton will follow .shortly after the comple-tion of the juniorate. I can see the reasonableness of prescribing a relatively brief period of greater recollection before perpetual pro-fession. The tertianship is rather a period of renovation of spirit, the re-enkindling of the religious spirit and fervor that may hay( grown cold in the active lifeof the institute, a more profound ac-quisition of the genuine spirit of the institute, and a more mature and deeper spiritual formation. I personally think that the appro- 12. Ibid., I, 258. 13. Ibid., I, 254. 313 JO;EPH F. GALLEN Revieu) [or.'R6ligious priate time for the tertianship in lay .institutes is about ten years after the first profession, when the religious is about thirty to thirty-five years of age. Sufficient time has then been spent in the active life, and the age level does not preclude the required docility. Several congregations of sisters in the United States have al-ready instituted a tertianship, dr renovation, as they are more apt to call it, for about six weeks during the summer. This should be the minimum time. My own opinion is that it should not continue longer than six months in lay institutes. The tertianship has been highly praised by Pius XII, warmly recommended by several authors, and is favored but not imposed by the S. C~ngregation of Religious. This whole matter was previously explained in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS.14 "14. Simplification of the religious habit. Plus XII recommended this simplification to religious women and praised institutes that had taken such action. He nowhere affirmed the fairiy common mis-apprehension that this was the only thing to be adapted, that it was the most important or urgent matter of adaptation, or that the 'l~abit should be fundamentally and completely changed. He stated ~bat the habit should express the consecration to Christ and should be appropriate, hygienic, not affected, simple, and religiously modest. Roman C9ngregations had previously manifested that the habit of religious women should be dignified, grave, in keeping with poverty, riot. likely to arouse adverse comment or ridicule, suited to the cli-. mate, and efficient. The question of the habit aptly illustrates one of the great ob-stacles to all adaptation, the excessive attachment to externals. The purpose of the religious habit is that it should be a symbol of, and should express the separation from, th~ world and the consecration to Christ and not that it should do this in any excessively individual or peculiar manner. Attachment 'to the symbol is more tenacious than to its purpose. It appears to be unfortunately true that ex-cesslve attachment to the present habit increases in direct proportion to its evident need of change. On the other hand, this change should be made slowly, prudently; t-be proposed habit should be worn in all the houses by a few religious for a sufficient time of trial; and there should be freedom of suggestion. The change should beoto something better and satisfactory¯ I have seen changes that were 'not improvements. It seems to me also that congregations with 14. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, XII (1953), 267. 31~4 Nouember, 1955 RENOVATION AND ADAPTATION a common founder should strive, if at all possible, to retain their identity or at least similarity of habit. It is strange that women should not know how to dress" and their men should have to instruct them. The Pope has done it, the Roman Congregations, authors, and I now attempt it again.15 Ap-parently the only hope of success is to be very direct and explicit. The habit should be examined on the following points: peculiarities, imprisonment of the face, starch/ ruffles, pleats, quantity of-cloth, number of articles of clothi.n~, capability for the necessary change of clothing, time in laundering,i efficiency, and the existence of summer and winter. As is evident f.rom some simple habits, it .is possible toeliminate all the starch and the imprisonment of the face and ,still have a religious' habit, i The starch, ruffles, and pleats are not simple, unnecessary, and crehte a truly awesome laundry problem. Countlessnovices are being .grounded in spirituality in a 1.aundry. ¯ It must take hours merely tb iron some habits.The poor do not buy such articles of clothing.i Modesty must be preserved but it does not demand the number of a~rtlcles or the quantity of clgthing now worn by most religious women. To take the mildest of examples. If the ordinary sleeves reach [~ the hand, why does modesty demand the ever present wide outer tsleeves?. The Pope said that the habit ~hould be hygienic. This o~viously requires, and it is but one ex-ample, that the waist and sleeves' should be detachable, readlly~ " .change-able, readily laundered. Toiignore this is to prescind from elemen-tary hygiene. Anything that even appears to be odd or peculiar should be ruthlessly eliminated. Jesus Christ was not peculiar in His earthly life, and peculiarity is not an apt symbol of con~ecra-' tion to Him. The modesty iof the habit does not require that it be a mere blessed sack. If all the headings given above are properl~r considered, the resulting habit will be suitable for work and effi-cient. We must remember, ,finally, tl~at no religious institute is or Can be exempt from the cold of winter and the heat of summer. Secular men and women stil! bow to this fact of nature at least by wearing an overcoat during~the winter and, outside of a very few highly nervous lndlwduals, ,thFy do not wear the same coat duriilg the summer, 15. Higher intellectual standards". This topic has also been explained completely in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS.15 All religious 15. Ibid., XII (1953), 256-57. i6. ~bid., X~I (1953), 268-69. ./ JOSEPH F. GALLEN Reuieto /:or Religious and particularly those engaged in teaching should beintellectual and cultured men and women. ~This certainly implies that they have in-tellectual tastes and are constantly reading and studying. Such ~ habit is to be inculcated and emphasized~ from the beginning. It is surprising how often a supposed education, also Catholic, fails to produce a habit of reading. There must also be something to read, and we can finish this topic by emphasizing again the .need of ade-quate libraries in all religious houses. Higher superiors should in-sist that a sufficient outlay for books be part of the annual budget of all houses and they should also 'inspect the libraries during their canonical visitation. 16. Rotation of the same superiors. This matter is both im-portant and practical, but it has been completely explained in the REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS.17 17~ Mutual knowledge and cooperation with other institutes. All religious should have a sincere and deep reverence, love, and loyalty for their own institute. All are to be real sons and daughters of their institute. ~'They expect paternal government; they should give filial deportment. Modern generations can be justly accused of a greater deficiency in these precious qualities than the generations of the past. In casting off romanticism for realism they may also be putting off love and devotion for cynicism. It is more erroneous to act as if all that is good, holy, and zealous were confined to our own institute. This induces a very repulsive caste pride and is also an evident obstacle to renovation and adapta-tion. We cannot reasonably maintain that all human progress ceased at the death of our founder. The Italians have a good name for par-ticularism; they call it "'iI campanitismo.'" We may freely translate this as a vision narrowed to the village steeple and a life confined to its shadow. Narrowness is a discordant quality in a life supposedly dominated by the limitless truth and good that is God. Religious cannot be lacking in love and reverence for the Church, of which their institute is only a very small and very subordinate part, nor for the diocese, the parish, and other institutes. They should bare a sincere conviction of the good, the greatness, and the accomplishments of other institutes. This demands primarily that they do not harm other institutes, for example, by inaugurating works that are not'necessary in a locality and that can onl~ harm the established works of other institutes. The movement of ad.~ilSta- 17. Ibid., X (1951), 193-200. November, 1955 RENO~CATION AND ADAPTATION tion goes further than the mere avoidance of injury; it emphasizes and promotes cboperation. This has been a primary motive for the various congresses of religious, the permanent commission of mothers general established in Rome, the associations instituted in France and Italy for sisters engaged in the same activities, the con-federations or permanent conferences of higher superiors in France, Portugal, Spain, Brazil, and Canada. The Sacred Congregation of Religious has inspired, fostered, and approved sucl~ associations. It may be maintained that this purpose, is fulfilled in the United States by the National Catholic Educational Association and the Catholic Hospital Association. The Sister-F0rmation Conferences and the meetings of superiors and officials promoted by the Catholic Hospital Association are apt means of accomplishing renovation and adaptation. Seriou~ consideration at least should be given to the formation of a permanent association of higher superiors of religious women in the United States. Common discussion and effort would be very helpful to their common purpose, difficulties, and problems. The formation of all such associations should be a vital movement from within; and the sisters themselves must give practically all the talks, lead, and carry on the discussions. They alone are fully ac-quainted with their life and problems; they can and should solve their own problems and supply their own initiative. Or,hers can at times help or contribute some ideas, but in all such associations and meetings the principal part should be left to the sisters themselves. Adapta-tion is life, not passivity or forced movement; and passive partici-pation is rarely satisfactory or permanent. 19. Pertinent canonical matters. It seems incredible that a re-ligious institute would not have conformed its constitutions to the Code of Canon Law, but it is still possible to encounter such a situ-ation in congregations of sisters. _Quite a few of these congregations retain what is called the direct vote, i. e., all the professed, at least of perpetual vows, vote directly in the general elections. This is contrary to the practice of the Holy See, which demands the system of delegates. Many diocesan congregations are unaware of the fact that their diocesan state, according to canon law and the practice of the Holy See, is only. temporary and probationary and that they should become pontifical. Canon law and the practice of the Holy See also favor the extension of diocesan congregations to many dio-ceses and are opposed to their confinement to the diocese of origin. Some congregations have a structure of government that is intended for a monastery of nuns, not for a congregation of sisters. Several ¯ 317 authOrs have" advised° small and struggling institutes, especially of women, to unite with larger and flourishing institutes and preferably with one of the same origin. This suggestion is practical for a few institutes in the United States. Orders of nuns that certainly cannot observe even minor papal cloister should become congregations. Papal cloister.cannot be ob-seryed~ by institutes that are almost wholly occupied in such works as parish schools. Some congregations of sisters have a strictdr cloister by the law of their constitutions. This cloister should not be ob-structive of the special purpose of the institute. Monasteries of nuns should present any real problems or diffi-culties on papal cloister to the Holy See. If engaged in education, they are to be attentive to the fact that this demands their own proper education. These same monasteries should realize that the Holy See has for a lbng time promoted federations of monasteries of men. The same principle is now merely being extended to monasteries of women. The advantages of federations were authoritatively listed in Sloonsa Christi. Nuns have been isolated from practically all in-novations in" the religious life, and this has riot always been to their advantage. They are also included in the present moxiement of renovation and adaptation and should study especially the advan-tage~ of federations. Those engaged in the mote scientific teaching of religion and who read ~panish will no doubt like to know that the Salesiafis in Argentina publish a monthly magazine entitled Didascalia, devoted to the teaching of' religion. Agents in the United States: Don Bosco College, Newton, New Jersey; in Canada: Salesian of St. John'Bosco, Jacquet River, New Brunswick. In our November, 1954, number, p, 289, we described Volume III of th~ Canon Law Digest, by T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and on p. '306 of the sam~ number we announced that annual loose-leaf supplements to the Digest would be published. The Supplement of 1953 appeared shortly afterwards; and very recen[- ly the Supplement through 1954 has been published. In the valuable work of pre-paring these annual supplements, Father Bouscaren ¯is being aided by Jame~ I. O'Connor, S.J., professor of canon law at West Baden College. Like the Digest itself, the annual supplements are published by The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. An important letter of the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries and Universities on the Proper Training of Clerics to an Appreciation of the Divine Ot~ce (Feb. 2, 1945) has been translated into English by T. Lincoln Bouscargn, S.J., and is now published in convenient pamphlet form. The pamphlet includes an excellent bibli-ography by Owen M. Cloran,,S.J. Price, ten cents. Grail Publications, St. Mein-rad, Indiana. 318 ook eviews [All material for this department should be sent to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] SEEDS OF THE DESERT. The Legacy of Charles de Foucauld. By R. Voilluame. Translated and adapfed by Willard Hill. Preface by John LaFarge, S.J. Pp. 368. Fides Publishers Assbciafion, Chicago, IIIinois. 1955. $4.50. Any priest or religious will read this book with a sense of ex-hilaration. Its spirit is aggressive and optimistic and so inexplicable on natural grounds that one cannot help but think that it brings him into direct contact with the life-stream of the Church. The English title~ while'more poetic, is less revealing than the original: Au Coeur des Masses: La Vie Religieuse des Petits Fr~res du P~re de Foucauld: The Little Brothers of Jesus area Congrega-tion founded by Father Refi~ Voillaume according to a plan sketched at the turn of the century by Father Charles de Foucauld. The Con-grega~ ion.was approved by the Church in 1936. The letters of Father Voillaume to the Little BrotHers, which comprise the bulk of the present work, reveal that the purpose of the congregation has been boldly conceived and is being wisely executed. The brothers, some ordained, some lay, intend to bring Christ in His Church to the poor: to the workers of France, the Moslem Arabs of North Africa, . the colored of the Cameroons, the nomads of Transjordan, the under-proletariat of Chile. The plan is de-signedly lacking in methods of apostolic efficiency. It is decidely not of this world in its "foolish" simplicity. In fraternities of from three to five men, the Little Brothers live the life of the poor whose souls they seek; factory wbrkers, fishermen, shepherds. They do not preach; they do not found social organizations; they do not try to change the living conditions of their fellow-workers. This they leave to others. Their eye is on Jesus at Nazareth and their hope is to bring the modern poor to the fullness of Christian life. Their method is to be a leaven of example anal self-immolation among the masses. The difficulties and dangers facing such .an enterprise are ob-vious; and the author is at pains, in his letters to the br0ther~, to point them out and to chart a safe course. Again and again he tells them that in their circumstances mere formal observance~ are not BOOK REvIEws Review [or Religious enough to guarantee the life of perfection to which they have vowed themselves. Only contact with the vivifying person of Christ is powerful enough to weather the fatigue, the discouragement, and the temptations they will encounter. Though much of the guidance Father Voillaume offers the Little Brothers is necessarily of a particular nature, his letters will never-theless have a widespread appeal, especially among religious. The author's love for the poor, his desire to bring God to them, his con-fidence in the power of Christ, and above all his enthusiasm for the little way of the Gospel in a world which thinks big, are plain on every page. His spirit is infectious and will be caught with profit by those whom it touches. The letters on the vows are par-ticularly good. Written on a familiar subject they have a freshness which reflects the vigor of the author's mind. They stress the psy-chological and po.sitive aspects of" the vows and are noticeably de-void of platitudes. Time alone can adequately test the courageous experiment of the Little Brothers of .Jesus. ]3ut if Father Voillaume can plant deeply in his followers the spirit he has left in his book, success seems assured.-~PAUL F. CONEN, S.d. THE EUCHARIST-SACRIFICE. By Reverend Francis J. Wengier. Pp. 286. The Bruce Publishing Co., Milwaukee I, Wisconsin. 1955. $5.00. Father Wengier has given us in this book a notable addition to the growing number of titles of theology in English. The Eucharist- Sacritice is a defense of the opinion of the Reverend M. de la Taille, S.3., on the essence of sacrifice in the Mass as found in the justly famous volume Mysterium Fidei. It also contains chapters dealing with other controversial aspects of eucharistic doctrine,, such as transubstantiation, the actual offerer of the Mass, the quantity of Mass fruits. The last chapter is devoted to a consideration of the Encyclical Letter of Pope Plus XII, Mediator Dei, and an epilogue is added on "The Blessed Virgin and the Mass." Father Wengier defines the Mass as "A true and proper though unbloody Sacrifice of the New Law, instituted by Christ when He said: 'Do this in commemoration of me,' in virtue of which com-mand the beloved Bride of Christ, the Church, doing through her ordained minister what Christ ~Himself did in the Cenacle, renews Christ's sublime Sacrifice by offering to the heavenly Father the very same formal Supper-Golgotha Victim while picturing the Lord's passion in the consecration of the separated :elements of bread and 320 Nouember, 1955 BOOK REVIEWS wine" (p. 102). This definition, which fairly represents the. opin-ion of De lh Taille, is defended particularly against the opinions, of Abbot Vonier (The Keg to the Doctrine of the ~.ucbarist) and Reverend M. D. Forrest (,The Clean Oblation), though others are not neglected. The book is somewhat marred by the undue acerbity with which the author treats the opinions of adversaries. This particular con-troversy, for some reason, always generates a great deal of heat'. Undoubtedly a partial reason at least is the fact that all sides of the controversy appeal to the very same texts of the fathers and the councils, each interpreting them in support of a particular opinion. The chapter which the author heads: "Various Ways to Swerve from the Genuine Idea of the Sacrifice of the Mass" is not calcu-lated to win friends or conciliate opinion. The opinion that a symbolical immolation cannot at the same time be a real immolation will be favored by few theologians. To assure us that there is a symbolical immolation in the Mass and ~hen say that it is not an immolation but an oblation' is liable to be slightly confusing. If immolation is a constituent element of sac-rifice, then it must be present in the sacrifice of the Mass or else that sacrifice is not true and proper as described and defined by the Coun-cil of Trent. The presence of the immolated victim may be a sign that a sacrifice has been completed in the past, but only immolation can be constituent of sacrifice in the present. Again, the adjectives "bloody" and "unbloody" in the Council of Trent can refer only to the immolation since the oblation, taken in the sense of one of the constituent parts of sacrifice, is always unbloody even in a bloody sacrifice. Consequently only a theory which places an unbloody immolation in the Mass together with the oblation would seem to be consonant with the doctrine of Trent. However opinions differ, this book is sure to find an honored place on the bookshelves of theological libraries. It deserves careful reading to appreciate its many fine qualities.--CARL FIRSTOS, S.J. GOD'S HERALDS, A GUIDE TO THE PROPHETS OF ISRAEL. By d. Chalne. Transla÷ed by Brendan McGra÷h, O.S.B. Pp. 236. Joseph Wagner, Inc., New York. 1954. $3.95. To one seriously, interested in reading in English a concise, or-thodox introduction to the canonical Hebrew prophets, God's Her-alds will be most welcome. Father McGrath's translation of the late J. Chaine's Introduction a Ia Lecture des Prophetes meets a real 321 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious need for seminarians, religious, and laymen who are interested in th~ prophets whether from an historical, do, ctrinal, or s,ociological v~iewpoint. After a short chaptbr on prophetism and the social milieu, the author considers pairs or groups of the prophets in a reasonably, accurate chronological order. This treatment is calculated to bring out the climax of divine revelation and the historical drama of God's relations with Israel. If the message of Isaias and deremias is diffi-cult to follow, the reason is to be found in the unavoidable "enfilad-ing that results from this chronological approach. '- The style of the book is quite direct; the content, informative and condensed. Passages are paraphrased rather than quoted. In spite of all this, the salient features of many of the prophets, espe-cially of Jeremias and Ezechiel, stand out cl'early in but a few pages. Although God's Heralds is intended to be a non-technical study, it i's, nevertheless, primarily intended as an introduction or pre-lection to private reading or study of the prophets. One feels that this purpose could be better implemented by the addition of a table or chart indicating the chronological order in which the different prophets and their various oracles should be read. Admittedly, this order is frequently problematic. The whole book, however, supposes a rather definite chronological arrangement; and so a tab-ulated abridgment of the prophets treated w6uld ,be of considerable help to private reading. Nevertheless, the index of texts, plus fre-quent cross-references, enables the student to refer back for the his-torical setting as outlined~in this work. As the translator notes in his preface: "The world of the pro-phets is a complicated one, and it takes serious study to become really familiar with it." Monsieur J. Chaine's small volume is not "affective reading." But sound, even if "non-technical" study of the prophets is required if their message is to ring clear. Father McGrath is to be commended for translatin~ a book on the prophets so apropds of the current needs of clerics and laymen alike in these days when we begin to realize that God will judge the nations. --CHARLES H. GIBLIN, S.,J. (:;)UAESTIONES CANONICAE DE JURE RELIGIOSORUM. By Servo ~,oyeneche, C.M.F. Volume I, pp. 536; Volume II, pp. 496. Insfifufum Jurldlcum Clarefianum, Yla Giulla, 131, Rome, Ifaly. 1954; For more than thirty years Claretian Father Servo Goyeneche has been solving canonical problems concerning religious proposed 322 November, '1955 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS under the heading of Consultationes in the Claretian review entitled Cpmmentarium pro Religi~sis. Now this renowned canonist and professor at the Pontifical Institute Utriusque duris in Rome has arranged all these answers in the order of the canons of the Code of Canon Law and has published them in two volumes under the title of Quaestiones Canonicae. The term religious is used in a wide sense; and, besides the canons contained in the second book of the code under the formal title De Religiosis; it includes most of the other° canons of the code touching religious at least indirectly. Hence the valuable:canon index to be found at the enff df Volume II runs from canon 4 to 2408. , Usually the text given is that which appeared originally in Com-mentarium pro Religiosis. However, the author has noted any change of opinion on the part of a writer quoted and. has included, the answers and interpretations given during the past thirty years both by the Commission for the Interpretation of the Code and those of the various Roman Congregations. This valuable compendium of practical questions and answers regarding religious should find a place in all the clerical communities of religious orders, congregations, and societies. Lay religious (broth-ers and sisters) will hardly find the volumes helpful because they are written in Latin.--ADAM C.' ELLIS, N.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS ACADEMY LIBRARY (3UILD, Fresno, California. One Hundred Years an Orphan. By John T. Dwyer. The book tells the story of Saint Vincent's, San Francisco's Home for Boys, at San Rafael, which completed the first century of its existence in 1955. It is a well-written book and profusely illustrated with many excellent photographs. Pp. 159. $3.00. THE BRUCE PUBLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, Wisconsin. The Glor~t of Christ. A Pageant of Two Hundred Missionar~j Lives from Apostolic Times to the Present. Age. By Mark L. Kent, LM.M., and Sister Mary Just of Maryknoll. An arresting, dramatic incident introduces each missionary. An appropriate reflection closes the account of his life. Not all the missionaries chosen for the book are canonized saints, though they would be if the Church would still recognize cahonization by popular acclaim as she once did. An inspiring bbok. If they could do so much for Christ, why can't I? Pp. 282. $3.75. 323 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Retffeto.~ for Religious How to Meditate. By Reverend A. Desbuquoit, B~lrnabite. Translated and arranged by Reverend G. Protopap,as, O.M.I. Not only beginners in mental prayer but also those who have practiced it for many years will find the author's analysis of mental prayer enlightening. I/is chapter on "Tasks of Mental Prayer" is particu-larly ~uggestive and should prove very helpful. Pp. 75. Paper $1.00. Spurs to Meditation. By Reverend Bartholomew g. O'Brien. Just how much of a problem formal meditation can .be for a priest, Father O'Brien knows from personal experience in a very large and busy parish where he served for ten years. Spurs to Meditation is written specifically for those priests and seniinarians who still find meditation a problem. The author hopes with good reason that his book will help to solve that problem for many of his readers. Pp. 116. Paper $1.25. ~ CATHOLIC LIFE PUBLICATIONS, Bruce Press, Milwaukee I, Wisc. The Pierced Heart. The Life of Mother Mary Angela Trusz-kowska, Foundress of the Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Felix (Felician Sisters). By Francis A. Cegielka, S.A.C., S.T.D. The Congregation of the Sisters of Saint Felix now comprises ten prov-inces. Three are in Poland, where the congregation was born, and the other seven are in the United States. There are 4,3-37 sisters in the congregation as of 1955. Of these 3,505 are in the United States. Because the sisters are so numerous here, they are known for the many works in which they are engaged, but little is known about them. This is the first biography in English of the remark-able woman who founded this flourishing congregation. It helps us to get to know the Felician Sisters. It is regrettable that the book is so brief, only 76 pages. May the day come soon when we shall have a fullrlength biography. $2.50. THE CATHOLIC UNIVERSITY OF AMERICA PRESS, 620 Michigan Ave., N.E., Washington 17, D.C. The Catholic Elementary School Program for Christian Family Living. Edited by Sister Mary Ramon Langdon, O.P., M.A. This book embodies the proceedings of the Workshop on the Catholic Elementary School Program for Christian Family Living conducted at the Catholic University Of America, June 11 to June 22, 1954. It is of interest to pastors and sociologists. Pp. 209. Paper $2.25. The Local Superior in Non-Exempt Clerical Congregations. A Historical Conspectus and a Commentary. By Robe,rt Eamon Mc- 324 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Grath, O.M.I. The book is a thesis submitted to the Catholic Uni-versity of America in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Canon Law. Pp. 127. Paper $2.00. CLONMORE AND REYNOLDS, LTD., 29 Kildare St.; Dublin. The Origin of Political Autborit~ . By Gabriel Bowe, O.P. Certainly a very timely book now that so many false theories on political authority are rife. It is based on a thesis which merit.ed for the author the degree of Lector in Sacred Theology at the Angelicum in Rome. Pp. 102. Cloth 12/6. COLLEGE MISERICORDIA, Dallas, Pennsylvania. Lh;fng the Little Office. By Sister Marianna Gildea, R.S.M. A very effective way to make the recitation of vocal prayers of rule easier, more consoling, and more profitable is to take them as the subject of meditation. Sister Marianna has done just that with the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and in this volume she shares the fruit of her labors with the reader. Do you wish to improve the effectiveness of your recitation of the Little Office? If you do, this book will help you. Pp. 167. Paper $2.75. COMITE DES HOSPITAUX DU QUEBEC, 325 Chemin Sainte- Catherine, Montreal~ Morale et M~d;,cine. By 3ules Paquin, S.d. Doctors and nurses are constantly in need of guidance in handling moral problems aris-ing from the practice of their profession. This need is provided for in Catholic medical and nursing schools by courses in medical ethics. Morale et M~dfcfne is intended as a textbook for such a course, though it would also serve as a handy reference book for doctors and nurses in actual practice. Besides giving a clear exposition of the moral principles connected with the many important problems of modern medicine, the book also contains a section dealing with the moral problems of psychiatry. It will be of interest particularly to re-ligious connected with hospital work. Pp. 489.- . DAUGHTER~ OF SAINT PAPAL, Old Lake Shore Road, Derby, N. Y. Jesus" Alp~'al~t for. R'elfgi~Us. Cbmpiled by the Daughters' 6f SaintPahll There"is ~'cldapt~r fore'ach'l~tter of the alphhbe~i" The first l~.l[f.io;f' each "~b~e~; c'onsi~tsof brief cifiot~ioh~ froh~'H61y Scripture oi~ the virtue dealt" ~'i~h ih"that "~l~'~i3~er: ~Tl~e ~c~'fid"hhif comprises brief quotations.:fr0m the~.writings .of.,t.he ~fa.thers of the Cht@ch- a'nd ,the:~sairits on, ~he,' sam~, virtue;., It 'is not a~boolc;to be "read; but ,a.th'e'sautus-of suggestions.for~:meditatibn. :',Pp~. 'l.24,.-Paper 3-25 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Revieta for. Religious $1.00. Cloth $2.00. The Hero of Molokai. Father Damien, Apostle of the L, epers. By Omer Englebert. Translated by Benjamin T. Crawford. Robert Louis Stevenson, who so eloquently defended Father Damien in his open letter to Doctor Hyde, predicted that the Church would raise Father Damien to the honor of the altars within a century after his death. That prediction is. now in process of verification. His cause has been introduced at Rome, and some significant progre.ss has been reported. The present biography of the hero of M61okai is in a popular vein and should hasten the day of his beatification. Pp. 364. Paper $1.50. Cloth $3.00. FIDES PUBLISHERS, 21 West Superior St., Chicago 10, Illinois. The Psalms. Fides Translation. Introduction and notes by Mary Perkins Ryan. This may be called the laymar~'s own edition of the psalms since the introduction and notes by a lay woman were written with him and his difficulties in mind. Pp. 306. $3.95. FOLIA, 55 Beechwood Avenue, New Rochelle, New York. The Augustinian Concept of Authority/. By H. Hohensee. This volume puts "at the disposition of theologians,' philosophers and classical scholars, teachers and students alike, an abundant source-ma~ erlal for the interpretation of Augustinian thought" on the sub-ject of authority. Pp. 77. Paper $2.00. FREDERICK PUSTET COMPANY, INC., 14 Barclay St., N. Y. 8. In the Light of Christ. Through Meditation to Contemplati'on. Pp. 340. $4.50. Hearts Shall be Enlightened. ReHections [or the Examination o[ Conscience. Pp. 179. $2.50. Both volumes are by Mother Mary Aloysi, S.N.D. Religious, particularly religious women, will be pleased with these two volumes, the latest books from the prolific pen of ~he gifted author. Both volumes are intended to make the meditation and the examination of conscience of the monthly day of rec611ection more fruitful. The first consists of forty inspiring meditations; the second, of.an equal number of reflections. There can be no doubt that a religious who makes her own ahd lives according to th~ teaching so eloqtiently pro-pounded in th~se volumes is very dear to the Heart of Christ. GRAIL PUBLIEATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Blueprint :/or Holiness. "The Christian Mentalit, g. ,By Denis Mooney, O.F.M.This little bookl~t contrasts~ the. Christian men-. 326 . .: .: . November, 1955 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS tality, the effective desire of always, pleasing Go.d, with the natural mentality, the desire of always pleasing self. All our faults and sins have their root in the latter; our virtues spring from the former. The Christian mentality must be expande,.d until it extinguishes the natural mentality. The book is very simply written and~ illustrated with diagrams--something most unusual in aspiritual bool~. Pp. 64. Paper $0.50. ~ The Education of the Religious and Modern Trends. By Rev-erend Manuel Milagro, C.M.F: The author writes specifically for those who are educators of religious destined to become priests. Among [he topics treated are the following: vocation and disci-pline, anticipatory ministerial drills, the educator, the confessor, the superior, the educational formula ora et labora, the ministerial for-mula ora laborando, mental hygiene, rectification of distorted fea-tures. Pp. 97. $0.75. Dedicated Life in the World. Secular Institutes. Edited by Jo-seph E. Haley, C.S.C. The answers to many questions that we are asked about secular institutes are found in this" booklet. We find there their historical background, their canonical status in the light of papal documents, their nature, and finally their present and future status in America. It concludes with a useful bibliography. Pp. 48. $0.25. The Crown of Twelve Stars. Meditations on the Queen of the Universe. By a Ca~rmelite Nun, the Apostolic Carmel, Mangalore, lndia. If you baye been looking for appropriate meditations for the first Saturday of each month, The Crown of Twelve Stars should terminate your search. You may even find that though each indi-vidual meditation is short, it affords enough material for mind and heart for more than one hour of prayer. Pp. 54. $0.35. P. J. KENEDY AND SONS, 12 Barchiy St., New York 8. What the Church Gives Us. By Monsignor James P. Kelly and Mary T. Ellis. Those who have to instruct conveits will welcome this new book on the fundan~entals of the Faith. Though e~senti-ally a catechism, it is not writtefi in question and answer form." Even Catholics could profit by a careful reading of this well-writ-ten book. It deserves a place on the shelf of every lay retreatant's library. Pp. 152. $2.50, ~ The Salt of the Earth. By,Andre Frossard. Translated by Mar-jorie Villiers. Andre Fross,a}d has written a very readable book about the religious life as exemplified in six religiouS.orders, Bene-; BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS dictines, Carmelites, Carthusians, Cistercians, Dominicans, Jesuits, and Franciscans. It was written for people in the world who know little or nothing about religious. It is profusely illustrated with humorous woodcuts. The author is not always accurate about de-tails: The Jesuit General is not appointed by the pope; St. Bernard entered Citeaux with thirty not twenty-five companions; the influx of hermits into theoEgyptian desert began during and not after tbe persecutions. Pp. 160. $2.95. NATIONAL SHRINE OF SAINT ODILIA, Onamia, Minnesota. Odilia, Maid of the Cross. By Bernard C. Miscbke, O.S.C. Would you like to know what life was like in England in those far off days when it was still pagan? What is the historical founda-tion for the legend of St. Ursula and the eleven thousand virgins? Why is St. Odilia the special patron of the Crozier Fathers? You will find the answer to all these questions in Father Mischke's fic-tionalized biography of St. Odilia. Pp. 163. $2.00. SHEED AND WARD, 840 Broadway, New York 3. A Rocking-Horse Catholic is the last book that Caryll House-lander wrote before her death on October 12th, 1954. In it she tells the story of her youth. She was baptized a Catholic when she was six, and so characterizes herself not as a "cradle" but a "rocking-horse" Catholic. She lost the. faith in her teens but found her way back to the Church to become a militant Catholic and the author of six books on religious topics. When you begin to read this book, be sure that you have several hours at your disposal, for you will find it difficult to put it down before you have reached the end. Pp. 148. $2.50. Soeur Angele and the Embarrassed Ladies. By Henri Catalan. Something new in detective fiction: a Sister of Charity appears in the role of detective and solves a murder mystery. Pp. 154. $2.50. TEMPLEGATE PUBLISHERS, Springfield, Illinois. The Our Father. By R. H. J. Steuart, S.J. The conferences of Father Steuart on the Lo~d

Issue 53.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1994. ; Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University. by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ° Fax: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ P.O. Box 29260 ¯ V~ashington, DC 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©1994 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. for religious Editor Associat~ Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Regina Siegfried ASC Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Jean Read Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ David Werthmann CSSR Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NO\rEMBER-DECEMBER 1994 ¯ VOLUME 53 ¯ NqOMBER 6 contents religious life 806 Befriending the Wind Doris Gottemoeller RSM raises the question of ecclesial identity for religious and the question of mission in the postmodern world. 820 Recapturing the Sense of Mystery William F. Hogan CSC suggests that fostering a sense of mystery is essential for the growth and vitality of religious. 825 A Reflection on Living between the Times Margaret Ann Jackson FSM sees her ministry in working with homeless families as a connection with the sacred at the very core of life. 832 840 847 charism Motherhood--Elizabeth Seton's Prism of Faith Betty Ann McNeil DC draws a portrait of Elizabeth Seton, a wife and mother, revealing her insights about motherhood and its impact on her faith and the development of her Marian devotion. Reclaiming Our Name Joseph F. Nassal CPPS underscores the importance of knowing a religious congregation's charism as the energy source of its identity and ministry. Revitalizing Charisms Inspiring Religious Life Maryanne Stevens RSM presents the power and blessing of charisms as that which transforms religious orders and the wider church. 86O 866 prayer Learning to Curse Gina Hens-Piazza describes the catharsis, conversion, and communion moments found in the psalms of lament. Prayer: All My Comfort Sheila Galligan IHM considers how a familiarity with the prayer life of Elizabeth Seton can enrich our own spiritual life. 802 Review for Religious 875 Autumn Leaves: Poem and Commentary Joseph Matheis enters us into his own poem through a series of reflections on its spiritual implications. 884 892 898 903 ministry Keeping Our Focus ¯ Stephen Doughty explores insights and practices from Christian spirituality which help us maintain a focused ministry amid today's many fracturing pressures. Homesteading: A Metaphor for Life Douglas C. Vest suggests homesteading as an image for life which combines movement and stability, journey and homemaking. Serving the Lost Sheep Gerard B. Cleator OP proposes some models of ministry as he reflects on his ministry to gays in Bolivia. In Malindi James Martin SJ relates his experience of a Kenyan town to reflections made by the famous Jesuit missionary Francis Xavier. 906 915 8O4 932 937 950 renewal Life in Abundance Patricia Barbernitz and Theodore K. Cassidy SM describe a spiritual renewal program for religious which is based on the process that guides Christian initiation. Towards Jerusalem: The Process of an Assembly David Coghlan SJ shares an experience of how a provincial assembly functions and then grounds the event in an organizational theory. departments Prisms Canonical Counsel: An Apostolic Exhortation to Religious: Redemptionis Donum Book Reviews Indexes to Volume 53 November-December 1994 803 prisms Recently in the city of St. Louis, Missouri, at the end of a rainy day the clouds on the west-ern horizon broke just enough to let the rays of a setting sun produce a brilliant and full rainbow. The rainbow lasted so long, the colors were so distinct, that local TV and newspaper journalists could not resist expressing their marvel. I was struck once again at how we humans are captivated by the phenomenon of light. If we want to celebrate a civic or social event, we light up the darkness of night with a dazzling array of fireworks. The beauty of a modern city is often measured by the lighting, sometimes hard and defining, at other times soft and mellow, which enhances its major buildings and mon-uments. The wonder of Christmas displays, whether sec-ular ones in store windows or religious ones in church and home, is generated by the twinkling of myriads of starlike light bulbs. We find a fascination with light, even if we are fortunate enough to live in a take-it-for-granted electric light world. Perhaps our fascination with light remains because we feel so easily oppressed by earth's darkness. In a win-ter season we endure with some dismay the shortness of daylight hours bracketed by both late-morning and early-afternoon darkness. In season and out, we suffer the dark burden of sickness and death among family and friends. Exposed to media coverage, we feel weighed down by the dark oppression of people's hatred, prejudice, torturing and killing of one another, whether it be in Bosnia or Rwanda or our own city. During the months of November and December, church tradition emphasizes two aspects of light shining 804 Review for Religious into the darkness of human experience. The sure coming of the reign of God shines out in the month of November, as we approach the end of Ordinary Time, through three distinctive feasts--~l Saints, All Souls, and Christ the King. All Souls, the commemoration of all the faithful departed, might seem at first sight to be a "dark" feast that sets the tone for this month of our remembering the dead. But the companion feastdays of All Saints and All Souls become twin lights beckoning all of us in the church on earth to struggle on in our graced efforts to let God's reign shine forth here and now. The feast of Christ the King suggests searchlight beams striding across nighttime clouds and presenting a preview glimpse of the incarnate Son's eschatological, joy as the Father brings "all things in the heavens and on earth into one under Christ's headship" (Ep 1:10). Our faith is stirred to shine through any present darkness: "We believe in the life of the world to, come." In the rainbow light of these feasts we are led again to /15rofess in word and in action the sureness of our faith's goal. Then we turn from the darkness that seems to obscure human life's purpose and direction to a darkness in which not despair and death but the beginnings of hope and life are hidden. December holds the dark tradition of centuries-long human searching and hoping portrayed in the season of Advent, which breaks forth into the pure shining beam over Jesus' birth, the cel-ebration of the nativity of our Lord. We proclaim that "a light has shone in our darkness." Celebratng Christmas we do not just remember a past event, but we enter anew into our own Christian responsibility to "shine like the stars in the sky while holding fast to the word of life" (Ph 2:15-16). As we celebrate the mystery of God's light and darkness in our liturgical year, the staff of Review for Religious prays that joy and peace--God's own gift in Christ lighten your life and witness to your faith now and into the new year. David L. Fleming SJ Nobember-December 1994 805 DORIS GOTTEMOELLER Befriending the Wind religious life Who has seen the wind? Neither I nor you: But when the leaves hang trembling The wind is passing through. Who has seen the wind? Neither you nor I: But when the trees bow down their heads The wind is passing by.' This whimsical lyric by Christina Rossetti reminds us how susceptible we are to the influence of unseen forces. The wind's traces may be gentle, as in the poet's vision, or fierce. At one moment wind soothes, shapes, and guides; at another it rips and tears. It rustles leaves, lifts kites, powers sails, and supports wings. It can also destroy homes, uproot trees, and down power lines. Invisible but not silent, wind whispers and sings and sobs and roars. Wind can be fickle or frightening; it can also be life-giv-ing and renewing. Anyone who has lived apostolic women's religious life in the United States in the last thirty years knows what it is to be buffeted and shaped by powerful but sometimes Doris Gottemoeller RSM, president of the Sisters of Mercy of the Americas, gave this presentation as president of the Leadership Conference of Women Religious (LCWR) at their national assembly in August 1994. The presentation was pub-lished in Origins 24, no. 14 (15 September 1994). Her address is 8300 Colesville Road #300; Silver Spring, Maryland 20910-3243. 806 Revie~ for Religious unseen forces from every side. Continuing the analogy, we could liken the pressures on us to winds from the four compass points. From the east came the expectations of the institutional church, whether Roman or American: conciliar documents, "Essential Elements," canonical requirements, diocesan policies and proce-dures. These influences helped to launch and validate our renewal. They also created tensions between our own insights and official mandates and interpretations. From the south came the winds of liberation theology. The bishops at Medellin and Puebla and our sisters missioned in Latin America sent messages of a new way of being with the poor, of doing theology, of being church. Our west winds were the forces of our own society and cul-ture. Enjoined by the Second Vatican Council to make our own "the joys and the hopes, the griefs and the anxieties of the people of this age," we adapted our lifestyles and ministries to new needs. At the same time we experienced and adapted to the revolutions in science, technology, communication, transportation, the polit-ical and social orders, popular culture and the media which char-acterized all of Western society. To the northern point on the compass we can assign the steadying influence of our own founding charisms and sound tra-ditions, newl)i researched and interpreted for contemporary life. From north, south, east, and west, then, the winds of change have carried us to this place and shaped our present reality. How can we describe that reality? Today's Reality In the decades after the Second Vatican Council the winds of change propelled us through some incredibly difficult terrain: misunderstandings without, polarizations within, loss of mem-bership, lack of resources, pastoral disappointments. Along the way we have acquired an unprecedented level of academic and professional preparation for ministry. But we sometimes confuse professional achievement with ministerial effectiveness. We have a spirituality cultivated through individual faith journeys. But we are less sure how to integrate it into a communal experience. We have highly developed skills in group participation, but less skill in calling forth and affirming in~lividual leadership. Overall, com-pared to twenty years ago, American women religious today are November-December 1994 807 Gottemoeller ¯ Befriending tbe Wind more grounded in charism, more self-aware as women, more appreciative of diversity, more aware of the interdependent causes of social ills, and as committed as ever to alleviating the suffering of the poor, the needy, and the vulnerable. Moreover, the processes of renewal have freed and empowered us. We have eliminated irrelevant and outmoded symbols and practices. We have grown into new theological, spiritual, educa-tional, psychological insights. So the moment has come to ask: What kind of future can we look forward to? The answer--our future--depends, as it always has, on the mysterious work of God's providence in our regard. But the future also depends, as it always has, on how we answer the depth questions. These are perennial questions which have to be answered in every time and place. The prospect that the upcoming synod may ask and answer these questions strikes fear in some. But there is no reason to fear. These are not questions that can be answered by a synod, or by assemblies or chapters or planning teams, no matter how moti-vated or sophisticated. The answers to these questions can only be born out of and lived within the hearts and lives of our members. Depth Questions There are only a small number of such depth questions, but in light of the theme of the 1994 LCWR meeting, charism and mission, I focus on two of them: the question of our ecclesial identity and of our mission in the postmodern world.-' The two questions are interrelated as being and action; identity is expressed in mission. Moreover, the four winds of change--messages from the institutional church, from liberation theologies, from our United States culture, and from our traditions--have given each question its distinctive form today. (I want to note that I am using the phrase apostolic religious life in an inclusive and nontechnical sense to distinguish our topic from contemplative religious life rather than from its monastic or evangelical forms.) Ecclesial Identity The question of ecclesial identity can be asked from two per-spectives: First, does women's apostolic religious life occupy an essential or unique place in the church? and second, is visible 808 Review for Religious membership and participation in the church critical to the iden-tity of women's apostolic religious life? How important are we to the church, and how important is membership in the church to us? The question of ecclesial identity seen from either perspective would have sounded absurd a few decades ago when the signs of our identification with the church were distinctive. Our dress, dwellings, lifestyles, and ministries signaled that we were a special and esteemed group in the church. The question of iden-tity had been answered along the same lines since the founding of most of our con-gregations. But one of the effects of renewal has been to lay open the question in our new context.3 First, let us examine it from the perspec-tive of our place in the church. History shows us that religious life began in the third century when disciples began to gather around the early desert solitaries. But most of our modern apostolic congregations arose after the Reformation, with the greatest number founded in the 18th and 19th centuries. Clearly, what has not always existed in the church need not always exist. Neither religious life in general nor apos-tolic religious life in the form in which we know it today is essen-tial to the constitution of the church. However, the Second Vatican Council affirmed that religious life is inseparable from the life and holiness of the ch. urch, an encomium which suggests a distinct identity.4 W-hat is that iden-tity? Generally, the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church defines us as laypersons in a specific canonical state. I say generally because in one passage it says that laity are "all the faithful except those in holy orders and those in the religious state," (31) thus sig-nalling a fundamental ambigu!ty: Are we laity or not? As we know, a key achievement of the Council was to transform our under-standing of church from that of a hierarchical institution, a per- We have grown into new theological, spiritual, educational, psychological insights. So the moment has come to ask: What kind of future can we look forward to ? November-December 1994 809 Gottemoeller ¯ Befriending the Wind fect society in which religious occupy a special "state of perfec-tion," into a People of God in which all members are equally called to a life of holiness. That ecclesial vision highlights bap-tismal consecration and the significance of the lay vocation; it is less clear in affirming any distinct contribution of religious life to the church. As the years have passed, this theoretical ambiguity has grown in the practical order. How many people really believe that reli-gious life is a gift to the whole Christian community, not just to the men and women who embrace it? What are the consequences of that gift in the lives of the hierarchy, the clergy, other laity, the poor and the marginated and those in need? What difference does the presence of apostolic women religious, as a specific group rather than as single individuals, make to the life of a parish, a diocese, or an institution? It is not enough for us to assert a dif-ference. How do we live and act in a way that is unique and dis-tinctive? It seems to me that the answer to the question of ecclesial identity is that, fundamentally, apostolic women religious are lay-women who have embraced and pub!icly committed themselves to a distinctive way of following Jesus Christ. Apostolic religious life is a way of life, a phrase which connotes a depth and breadth and intensity of commitment far beyond a lifestyle. Lifestyles can be taken up and abandoned by simply changing one's economic status, leisure activities, or diet.s By contrast, a way of life consists of a constellation of funda-mental life choices having an internal coherence and consistency. One has a way of life, defined by the choices one has made about relationship to God, to the Christian community, to sexuality, to possessions, to companions, to those in need. The way of life known as religious life is a radical response to the call of Jesus who says, "I am the way." By anal.ogy, the early church described itself as The Way, a commitment to following Christ to which every other choice is subordinated (Ac 9:2). Author Judith Merlde describes religious life as a categorical choice, that is, a choice that eliminates other choices. She notes, "Religious life involves more than social action, professional excellence, or holistic living. Rather, it is a life project built on a relationship" (pp. 8, 109). Religious life is a continual call to conversion. It is dynamic, as the fundamental choices deepen and mature and the consequences of those choices are played out in different circumstances. The total- 810 Review for Religious ity of these choices, lived with visible and passionate commit-ment, clearly distinguishes us from other laity in the church and offers a unique witness. I suggest that, in the processes of renewal, our identity has been weakened because we have not tended enough to the inter-nal consistency, the congruence, among the depth choides which define our way of life. Celibacy, prayer, community, mission should all interact and contribute to the fundamental unity at its core. For example, the witness of celibate community is a power-ful expression of ministry. Ministry engenders passion in prayer; prayer purifies the heart of attachment to material things; renunciation of material things brings us closer to the poor and the needy, and so forth. Is it accurate or helpful to describe our way of life as charis-matic? Yes and no. On the posi-tive side, this designation highlights the spontaneity, the diversity, the creativity, the gra-tuity of religious life. The Pauline passages on charism are eloquent and well-known. We must acknowledge, however, that they apply to all Christians. All--bishops, clerics, laity, religious-- are called and gifted in a variety of ways. Since the Council, how-ever, the term has been appropriated by religious to refer to the grace of founding a congregation, to its characteristic spirituality, to its mission, to the gifts and graces of individual members, and to religious life as a way of life. I suggest that the imprecision of the term has greatly diminished its usefulness. The distinctive-ness of each congregation might better be identified with its tra-dition or its deep story.6 Furthermore, the description of religious life as charismatic sometimes heightens the tension between insti-tutional/ hierarchical elements of the church and the charismatic in a way which is not helpful. The reality of the church is much more profound and complex than this simple dichotomy.7 In the processes of renewal, our identity has b~en weakened because we have not tended enough to the internal consistency, the congruence, among the depth choices which define our way of life. Noventber-December 1994 811 Gottemoeller ¯ Befriending the Wind Let me move on to the second aspect of the ecclesial identity issue: How significant is public membership and participation in the church to our identity as apostolic women religious? Those who have processed a dispensation for a sister who says that she is comfortable being a community member, but no longer feels at home in the Roman Catholic Chtirch, know what this issue is. Any who experience the tension among congregational members over including--or not including--a Eucharistic liturgy within a congregational celebration recognize another aspect of the issue. We struggle with the unthinkable: Is it possible to be a member of one's congregation and not a member of the church? If we go back into our congregational histories we recognize that our foremothers sought and prized public identification with the church. Some congregations experienced painful struggles when church officials threatened to withhold recognition that founders regarded as rightfully theirs. More recently, our per-severance through the process of approval of constitutions, despite requirements that were sometimes arbitrary, insensitive, or oppressive, testified that basically we know ourselves to be and want recognition as congregations within the Roman Catholic Church. This desire persists despite the growing pain caused by the transformation of our consciousness as women and our realization that the church itself institutionalizes sexism within and fails to denounce it without. How can we justify this continued commit-ment to public identification with the church, and what does it call us to? Our commitment rests on our knowledge that at baptism we were each born again into life in Christ and into that extension of Christ's presence and work throughout space and time known as the church. Within the church we are taught, nourished, for-given, reconciled. The church is not just a spiritual concept or an individual personal experience. It is a collection of human beings from every race and nation and condition, united by the one Spirit in a visible and public community of disciples. At religious profession we renewed our baptismal commit-ment and thus signaled that membership in 'the church is intrin-sic to the way of life we were choosing. The choice for a life in union with Christ is a choice for a life within Christ's church. The choice of membership in the church is part of that constel-lation of fundamental choices which define a way of life. 812 Review for Religious Sometimes this is not an easy place to be. We share member-ship with those who are flawed, confused, limited in many ways. In our more honest moments we recognize flaws and limitations in ourselves. Furthermore, within the church there is a differen-tiation of roles, responsibilities, and gifts. To paraphrase St. Paul, "Not all are apostles, prophets, teachers, workers of mighty deeds" (1 Co 12-13). But the greatest gift, the one that is the hallmark of a Christian and the criterion by which all else is judged is love. It is our love for Christ and for the community united in Christ which impels and sustains our commitment to membership. To allow ourselves to be alienated from the church is to surrender our birthright; it is to deprive ourselves of life-giving nourish-ment; it is to be exiled from our true home. Furthermore, public estrangement from the church deprives its other members of the witness of our love, our truth, and our fidelity. To summarize the first part of these reflections: Apostolic religious life is a distinct way of life within the Christian com-munity characterized by a complex of fundamental choices. Among these choices is the choice for explicit membership in the Catholic Church. Religious congregations, because they exist to facilitate and promote the way of life of their members, also have a public identity within the church. The Mission of Apostolic Religious Life Our second depth question is: ~What should be the mission of apostolic women's religious life today and in the future? Our world today is very different from that in which "our missions were first articulated. The immigrant poor of the 19th century have moved up the economic ladder. Many of our traditional works have become public responsibilities; the rest of the laity have expanded their role in ministry. Still the way of life we have espoused is radically for others. We have made a life-long commitment to mission within the context of our individual congregations. Therefore we need to reexamine and, if necessary, restate our mission for this new time and place. This is a work for each con-gregation, but I suggest that the mission apostolic women religious are called to today should be integral to our way of life, prophetic, global, and corporate. Mission as integral to a way of life. Each of our religious con-gregations was founded to express some facet of the church's mis- Noventber-December 1994 813 Gottemoeller * Befriending the Wind sion. Mission is at the heart of our self-understanding, an expres-sion of our identity. The choice to be "in mission" is part of that constellation of fundamental life choices which constitute our way of life. As self-evident as this seems, the identification of mis-sion with our way of life has been eroded from several sides. For example, David Nygren and Miriam Ukeritis in the Future of Religious Life Study describe the "parochial assimilations" of reli-gious life: Religious are regarded as interchangeable parish work-ers, without any significance attached to their identity as religious (p. 3 7). The sense of mission as integral to a way of life has also been weakened as a result of financial pressures. Sometimes a "job"--anything thatpays an adequate salary--seems like the only possible choice of work. The sense of mission is weakened from still another side when, in the absence of a strong commitment to prayer or community, an individual allows her world to be wholly defined by work. Professional ambition and workaholism can replace zeal for mission. As apostolic women' religious, our mission expresses our iden-tity as laity, as women, and as religious. I use laity here in contrast to the clerical vocation. It is true that many of our members are performing ministries which used to be the responsibility of priests. However, the fact that we are doing them demonstrates that they are expressiong of the baptismal vocation, not the priesdy vocation. Our congregations do not. have two classes of members, lay and clerical; we do not have hierarchy built into our way of life. Our radical equality as baptized Catholics is part o~f who we are within community and it makes us one with the overwhelming majority of the church's membership. Our identification with women and as women animates and shapes our' mission. With women because we have made ourselves present to other women in their hopes, fears, achievements, and struggles. We understand the needs of people for healthcare, hous-ing, education, economic justice, political representation, moral guidance, spiritual inspiration from a woman's perspective. As women because we bring to ministry our personal gifts of courage, compassion, sensitivity, honed through our own life experience. Finally, our identity as religious shapes our mission. Individual ministries are expressions of a congregational mission; they are shaped and focused by ~he congregation's tradition. But beyond that, our public identification with a distinctive way of life is itself a witness, a prophetic statement. 814 Review for Religious Mission as prophetic. To describe religious life as prophetic does not necessarily connote dramatic speeches and gestures, although some occasions do call for them. Rather, it signifies a transparency to the divine which is the fruit of a life focused on Jesus and which is the real meaning of prophecy--speaking of God. It is not a matter of individually prophetic persons, but of a way of life which, because it involves the deliberate, daily, and publicly identifiable following of Jesus, is prophetic by its nature.8 The notion of being publicly identifiable is a challenging one, given the absence of the former markers of public identity such as habit and proximity to a church and employment in a particular setting. It does not mean adopting these outward symbols again° Nor does it necessarily imply being recognized as a religious by every casual observer. It does not mean fading into anonymity. It means being recognizable to all who would see, who are inter-ested or who inquire. It requires a facility in drawing the gaze of the inquirer from ourselves to the Gospel which we proclaim and which animates us. Prophecy demands inculturation lest the word spoken fall on deaf ears. It leads to diverse expressions of religious life as the word is adapted to differing circumstances. Prophecy requires engagement in the public issues of the day if the Gospel is to speak to contemporary human needs. Prophecy requires that we hold our sponsored institutions accountable for the clarity of their Gospel witness. Mission as global. A prophetic mission today will also be global in its perspective and outreach. We know from personal experi-ence and observation how the poverty and suffering in one part of the world have their causes in decisions made in another part, and how the elites of the world conspire to enhance their own positions at the expense of the poor and marginalized. We kn6w that greed, lust for power, racial and ethnic animosity, and rape of the earth and its resources know no boundaries. Women and men religious constitute a worldwide network of communication and potential response to human suffering and exploitation. Many of our congregations transcend national borders. Others have mem-bers missioned in some of the remotest corners of the globe. Furthermore, we have organizational ties with religious through-out the world through the LCWR conference and through the International Union of Superiors General. November-December 1994 815 Gottemoeller ¯ Befriending the Wind The twofold test of whether a congregational mission is more than rhetoric is how effectively it shapes each member's choices and how much it contributes to the public perception of the congregation. What is sometimes lacking is an appreciation of the valuable resource we have in our information about realities around the world and creativity in making effective use of the information. As individual congregations and as a Conference we have responded to new needs and specific crises in Eastern Europe, Liberia, Somalia, Central America, Haiti, Rwanda and many other places. Can we enlarge our commitment to information sharing, analysis, and coordinated action on behalf of a truly world church? Even if the mission of one's congregation is focused on a par-ticular local church or geographic region, this potential and impera-tive for global outreach exists through the Leadership Conference as well as through relationships with other congregations. Mission as corporate. Perhaps the most challenging dimension of future mission will be its corporate character. In the FORUS study Nygren and Ukeritis claim that many individual religious and groups have relinquished the power of corporate witness for a variety of individual commitments in effective but unconnected ministerial positions. "The emphasis on indi-vidual ministry, or, at times, simply procuring a position, has eclipsed the symbolism of, and statement previously made by, corporate commitments" (p. 35). The situation of individual min-istries is not easily reversed, even if it should be. There are only two ways to do so: Either everyone is employed within the same institutional ministry or everyone is committed to the same type of service such as ministry to persons with AIDS or to street chil-dren. The first solution is possible only where the congregation controls the institution. The latter solution assumes that the type of social problem being addressed will always exist to the same degree of need. Neither solution takes into account the differing talents, energies, professional expertise of the members. 816 Review for Religious A new way to think about corporate mission is needed, one which recognizes the changing social realities, engages and focuses the energies of the members, and expresses the public identity of the congregation. It is a corporate mission that is needed, not necessarily corporate ministries. The twofold test of whether a congregational mission is more than rhetoric is how effectively it shapes each member's choices and how much it contributes to the public perception of the congregation. Concluding Reflections The characteristics of mission outlined here--integral to the way of life of apostolic women religious, prophetic, global, and corporate--will be nuanced by the tradition and fresh inspiration of each congregation. Who are we? What is our hearts' desire? How will we spend our talents and energies? Our ability to answer these depth questions about identity and mission with clarity and conviction has implications for new members, for associates, for affiliates. They deserve to know what we are asking them to invest in and to help shape for the future. The questions are our questions. They belong to us before they belong to church officials or synod participants. It is time to speak and live our truth without compromise. There is a growing temptation among religious today to believe that our choices are limited. We feel constrained by age, by diminishing numbers, by finances, by professional education, by ecclesial expectations to carry on as we are, without really encountering the depth issues. Let us take a lesson from the suc-cessful sailor who makes a friend of the wind. Buffeted by contrary breezes, he chooses a tack and sets the sails. With one eye on the compass, the sailor strains forward toward the distant shore. Despite the winds buffeting us, we too can set our direction. Our compass is Christ; our sails are woven of faith and hope, courage and love. We can face only forward. Renewal has often invited us to look backward toward the great persons and events of our past. Now it is time to look forward, to the new leaders and cre-ative deeds in our future. There was no golden age of religious life. There were only women and men, human as we are, who loved God, cared for persons in need, and dared to dream. We are as human, as flawed and gifted as they were, and still in touch with the dream. November-December 1994 817 Gottemoeller ¯ Befriending tbe Wind We began by reflecting on the four winds of change which have brought us to this place. Let us end by invoking the wind that comes from another direction, the breath of the Spirit which blows where it wills. S6metimes a zepher, sometimes a mighty gale--God's Spirit can nudge our timid choices, strengthen our frail resolve, reverse any misdirected course. Before he left us, Jesus promised the apostles that they would receive power when the Holy Spirit would come upon them, and they would be his witnesses to the ends of the earth (Ac 1:8). Later, when their time was fulfilled, they were all in one place together. "And suddenly there came from the sky a noise like a strong driving wind, and it filled the entire house in which they were., and they were filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak . . . the Spirit enabled them to proclaim" (Ac 2:2-4). Now it is our time. Spirit of God, fill us and send us forth with the power and passion of your Word! Notes ~ R.W. Crump, ed. The Complete Poems of Cbr#tina Rossetti (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University, 1986), p. 42. z Joan Chittister OSB names ten critical questions which deal with "the very existence of religious life, its relationship to the church, its present character, its purpose, its spirituality and its energy" in the National Catholic Reportel; 18 February 1994. 3 The significance of this question was highlighted by David Nygren CM and Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ in the Religious Life Fntnres Project: Executive Summary (Chicago: University Center for Applied Social Research, 1992), p. 36: "The most compelling result of the FORUS study indicates that a significant percentage of religious no longer understand their role and function in the church. This lack of role clarity can result in lowered self-confidence, a sense of futility, greater propensity to leave religious life, and significant anxiety. The younger religious experience the least clarity, and among them, women religious experience less clarity than their male counterparts . For both women and men religious, Vatican II substantially reinforced the role of laity in the church but did not clarify for religious the unique contribution of their vocation." 4 Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, no. 44. s Judith A. Merkle contrasts "life-style enclaves" with communities in Committed by Choice (Collegeville, Minnesota: Liturgical Press, 1992), p. 21. In the former, persons share some aspects of their essentially private lives; in the latter, they share their deeper meaning system or commit-ment. On the contrast between way of life and lifestyle see also David L. Fleming SJ, in Religious Life: Rebirth Through Conversion, ed. Gerald A. Arbuckle SM, and David L. Fleming SJ (New York: Mba House, 1990), pp. 23 and 33. 818 Review for Religious 6 Tradition is appropriate because it connotes both preservation and development, content and process. Bernard J. Lee SM suggests "deep story," a category of interpretation that comes out of structuralism, as a method for interpreting group identity in "A Socio-Historical Theology of Charism, "Review for Religious 48, no. 1 (January-February 1989): 124-135. 7 For helpful distinctions between biblical, theological, and socio-logical uses of charism see Christian Duquoc, Casino Floristan, et al., Cbarisms in the Church (New York: Seabury Press, 1978). 8 Elizabeth A. Johnson observes ". a new combination of ancient elements is beginning to define the essential character of religious life. The emerging understanding of this life is primarily that of persons and communities called to prophetic ministry embedded in a contemplative relationship to God." Review for Religious 53, no. 1 (January-February 1994): 12. Thirty Days Bruised beauty, sleep-starved struggle to be the Handmaid of the Lord. Shot silvered silken strands-- gentle kiss of your hair within my hands. And all this only a vague shadow of inner glory: outward reflection of your hidden mysterious love story. Chris Mannion FMS In September 1994 the Rwandan government confirmed the death of British Marist Brother Chris Mannion, a member of the Marist general council in Rome. He was reportedly killed by members of the Rwandan Patriotic Front while on official visitation. He had written the poem during a recent thirty-day retreat and had hoped our readers "might identify with its images and sentiments," as Brother Sefin Sammon, vicar general, wrote in his cover letter. R.I.P. November-December 1994 819 WILLIAM E HOGAN Recapturing the Sense of Mystery with a particular dominant theme that integrates different aspects of religious life. Whether or not it is stated by the authors, these works are an attempt to present a theology of religious life from a practical point of view. Such presentations offer serious reflec-tion, even though it is not feasible to champion one theological approach that will effectively embrace all religious institutes, given the uniqueness of each group from its founding charism and its particular evolution in history. Authors use a variety of starting points in their works, for example, mission, discipleship, service, justice and peace, the prophetic, the charismatic, and something could be said in favor of any of the theses or integrating themes. One can readily nod in agreement with almost every approach as it unfolds, unless the author seems to push the fundamental premise too much or dis-counts some aspect involving a conviction important to the reader. Much richness has been gained from the various presentations; insigh(s that had disappeared with the passage of time have been brought to our attention once more. To some extent one could speak of an intellectual explosion of ideas and a clearer under-standing of consecrated life since Vatican II, such that ~a person should be able to approach commitment to it more intelligently. But most gains include some loss. In this instance, the loss fac- William E Hogan CSC continues to serve in the general administration of the Congregation of the Holy Cross. His address is Casa Generalizia; Via Framura, 85; 00168 Ro~ne, Italy. 820 Review for Religious tor concerns the aspect of mystery--that which cannot be known but only experienced. The more we analyze religious life, the more we expose ourselves to the danger of taking the mystery out of the mystery of religious life or at least of losing a sense of the dimension of the mysterious. To have as many insights as possible into consecrated life is of great worth, if one is to respond to its demands and be faithful to a call. Yet over and above all the human knowledge we receive, the way God is present in rela-tionships and in the corporate journey of a group under the leadership of God when the members are serious about liv-ifig out their faith deeply is inexplicable. The particular experience of the sacred in the historical development of a community defies human understanding and categoriza-tion and is often realized only in retrospect. Every person's life experi-ence is a mystery. The people with whom we share our lives, those with whom our lives intersect, the events we expe-rience- these and other factors have a special effect that we can-not always grasp or name. Frequently through sufficient analysis we can understand some of the reasons why a life has taken a par-ticular development; but we are also confronted by many facets that cannot be fully comprehended and can, in a faith context, be attributed only to Divine Providence (or where there is no faith vision, to chance). Experience always involves an aspect of mystery. Where that experience includes God and a call of God, there will be a sense of the mystery, a living with a consciousness and conviction of mystery (the grace of the event). As Jesus is mystery, the church is mystery. Life in Christ is mystery; so too is consecrated life mystery because of the presences of God beck-oning us into ever deepening relationships. To lose or diminish a sense of the mystery opens one to the possibility of becoming deprived of some facets of a faith approach Life in Christ is mystery; so too is consecrated life mystery because of the presences of God beckoning us into ever deepening relationships. November-December 1994 821 Hogan ¯ Recapturing the Sense of Mystery to religious life, especially placing one's security in the Lord who leads us through some unknown paths on the pilgrimage of faith. Important as it is to analyze religious life and to act in accor-dance with the resulting knowledge, there is danger in too much intellectual analysis because of the tendency to fit what we discover into already established categories, thereby losing some of the uniqueness. The transcendent element eludes classification, and the dimension of transcendence is at the heart of consecrated life. Where a sense of mystery is weak, faith will be weak, and one would have reason to question the vitality of the faith journey. Our times seem to be overly characterized by a belief only in the evident, in what is verifiable. Faith ends up by being reduced to a purely human act--a cold, technical type of faith that certainly does not energize. Such an approach to faith would be death-dealing instead of life-giving for religious life. A person would not be moved toward ongoing conversion, entering more pro-foundly into the mystery of Christ wherever he would lead by the power of the Spirit. St. Paul speaks often of maturing in Christ and growing into the fullness of Christ. This message would fall on deaf ears if the faith were primarily human and the mindset one of wanting to know all that is entailed. Transcending self and transformation in Christ is not an intel-lectual process, even though knowledge is involved. Conversion occurs only with willingness to embrace the mystery. We can find ourselves living out and acting on insights concerning religious life without experiencing the life in depth, a sort of textbook approach to living without entering as a committed disciple into the unfold-ing of the adventure of following Christ. Life becomes mere for-mality and is not centered on Christ. Though the knowledge about Christ and mission may be great, Christ will not be expe-rienced; nor will there be transformation of the self into the mind and heart of Christ, nor a real passion for mission as it touches all of life's moments. There may be much activity in the name of the Lord, but it may be more professional work than ministry. Theory will have supplanted life in Christ. Unfortunately this has been the experience of some of us, something of which we remain unaware until the Lord jolts us in one way or another and we grasp the emptiness of what we have been living: an intellectualizing and a shallowness in living, at least in part because of not being pos-sessed of the awesomeness of the mystery of Christ. But our God never gives up on us and continues to call us to let God move us 822 Review for Religious to real faith in the person and mystery of Christ and to center all on Christ. In consecrated life the commitment is to the Lord and his people, not to the life in itself as an end, and not to our under-standing of the life as such. The constitutions, customs, tradi-tions, study of the elements of religious life--all have their place in helping us grasp the meaning of the life, its limits and basic norms. The commitment is made in accordance with them. Yet our pledge of self is to the Divine Persons and all the mystery therein embraced. We vow to God, not to ideas or ideals and do so in a spirit of relating to the Trinity of Persons. What is entailed in the relating cannot be spelled out or even understood, if there is a willingness to try to surrender the self to God with an openness to uncon-ditional following the divine leadership on pilgrimage. Without a sense of mys-tery we can unconsciously stop short at the juridical aspects of the vows and com-munity without meeting the God of the vows and com-munity. This happens when means are confused with the end and give rise to distortions of what the means were meant to bring about in fostering the relation with God. Recent history bears witness to this. We can define and program religious life too tightly in its many facets; mystery requires some flexibility and openness to where the Lord wants to take us and to be for his people. Our security must be in the Lord and not in knowledge, insights, research, history--and not even in the elements of the consecrated life of the institute as such. The challenge of living in Christ is to put one's trust in the Lord and to experience the mys-tery with its incomprehensibility. A leap of faith is required beyond the theory of religious life and witness. The leap of faith must be We can define and program religious life too tightly in its many facets; mystery requires some flexibility and openness to where the Lord wants to take us and to be for his people. November-December 1994 823 Hoga.n . ¯ . Recapturing the Sense of My_ste. ry made over and over again as the surprises of journeying together into the mystery of Christ keep coming along. All too frequently we do not continue to make the leaps of faith and move forward into the mystery of life in Christ. Despite the many changes that have been made, too many of us still live in a programmed way that lacks a dynamic faith response. There are still individual and community barriers between ourselves and the Christ we declare to follow in discipleship. Past formation emphasized particular patterns of response (and even non-response at times), and today we still experience the effects of that approach. Are religious being formed today to fos~ ter the sense of the mystery present in religious life and a spirit of adventure with and in Christ? History reveals that when new forms of religious life were developing, the times were charac-terized by an enthusiasm about the spirit of mystery present when what was known and accepted up hntil that time gave place to a new approach. It is only those brave leaps of faith by the power of the Spirit that broadened the charisms of consecrated life to enrich the people of God with those special gifts of the Spirit. Something of the same is occurring today in the blossoming of many new forms of Christian community. Yet we might well ask whether it is just to new groups that the Spirit of God is speak-ing today, ls there not an invitation being extended to all to recap-ture the sense of mystery with its many paradoxes? The rational/practical side of us may not like the ambiguity and cloudiness of mystery; there is a preference for clear defini-tions and limits. But the faith/believer side should, in openness to God, go beyond the known to plunge more deeply into the obscurity of the mystery aspect of experiencing and sharing life in Christ to the fullest. "1" In Memoriam "1" Mary Margaret Johanning SSND died of cancer in Jefferson City, Missouri, on 1 October 1994. Sister Mary Margaret, general superior of the School Sisters of Notre Dame from 1977 to 1987 and from 1989 chancellor of the Jefferson City diocese, was a founding member of our advisory board. Please remember her in your prayers. 824 Review for Religious MARGARET ANN JACKSON A Reflection on Living Between the Times g~'~g'~ etween the Times: Religious Life and the Postmodern ,tg-~ Experience of God," (Review for Religious, January- February 1994) by Elizabeth Johnson rang true within me. What is more, it gave me a new way to interpret and understand my own three-year experience of working with homeless families in the Missouri Hotel, a large shelter in Springfield, Missouri. Johnson rightly says: "Contemplation is a way of seeing that leads to union. It arises from an experience of connection with the sacred at the very core of life . As a result, a certain intuition arises by which one begins to know and love the world as God does" (p. 6). The Experience of Homeless Families Homeless families find themselves stripped down to the very core of life, struggling to pro, vide the basics for themselves. With few exceptions, artifice and hypocrisy are not present. When fam-ilies are forced to resort to living in a shelter, they rarely play the game of trying to convince others that this is a desirable option. Having used all the ordinary supports of their life, they are reduced to living with strangers. They have arrived at our shelter because of problems, whether one or many, but typically there are many. Margaret Ann Jackson FSM serves as the family and children coordinator in the Missouri Hotel, a homeless shelter in Springfield, Missouri, Her address is 3177 East Linwood Drive; Springfield, Missouri 65804. Nove~nber-December 1994 825 Jackson ¯ A Reflection on Living Between the Times Often it takes time for a family's deeper problems to come to the surface. The hopelessness may have its origin in chemical dependency, mental illness, or a childhood full of physical and/or sexual abuse. Some of the parents have simply never known real stability, and their children find the shelter to be one of the bet-ter places they have lived. Our shelter networks with a variety of resources aimed at dealing with these problems, often with suc-cessful outcomes. But it is all too common to find that federal or state money for this or that purpose has run out, or some do not quite fit the eligibility criteria for the resources they desperately need. As Johnson's article put it, "naming what is unjust" then becomes easy and obvious. It likewise leads one to become an advocate who evaluates proposed legislation critically from the viewpoint of the poor. Actually, those working with the poor can become more angry than the poor themselves at the upside-down values and priorities of our so-called progressive nation. When resources are available, it is equally frustrating to dis-cover that someone is not yet ready to seek or accept help for the underlying cause of their difficulties. This is perhaps the core poverty of being human. The wall of denial may have slipped far enough for the person to admit that the problem exists, but it is still too threatening to tackle or even let others begin the pro-cess. The homeless are not alone in this experience; in fact, they are just like the rest of us in this regard. This experience of entering into the problems and frustra-tions of homeless people is further intensified when it is the chil-dren who urgently need the help that is not welcome. At times this can be an excruciating experience of powerlessness. The cross is certainly present, both in me and in them, when I am powerless to give what they do not want to receive, and it seems certain that their lives will continue on an unmanageable and chaotic path. Those who suffer the most are not the parents making these decisions, but the children who have no choice of their own to make. As a professional, I know that I must not identify too closely with my clients in feeling their pain, but neither do I want to become immune and uncaring. Prayer and Contemplation as Response As a woman, as a religious, as a child of God, I must bring all this to prayer. I complain to God. More often I just sit there with 826 Review for Religious it and with God. There have been times when it has entered into and become an integral part of a deeper prayer experience. Sharing the concerns of homeless families does induce and influence con-templation, but that is an oversimplification. This kind of ministry can too easily consume all time and energy, with little of either left for contemplation. Carving out prayer time, even reflective time, is a constant struggle. In the same vein, burnout can be just around the cor-ner, along with the temptation to become a codependent, overly help-ful savior who has all the answers. A variety of human ways to counter burnout and codependency are avail-able, useful, and necessary, but even when they have gratefully become a part of one's life, they simply cannot reach as deeply as prayer and con-templation. When one is continually faced with different forms of pow-erlessness, eventually it dawns that only God can deal with it, and the more a person becomes one with God, the more one can become the presence of God to others plunged in these human situations. Some would assume that min-istry in such surroundings would be unendingly sad and depressing. I do not find it so. It is hectic and stress-ful, yes, but also rewarding. All is not hopeless, and many families make progress, move out, and sometimes return to tell us how grateful they are for the help they found with us. These success stories keep us going, but for me, it is more often when homeless fami-lies are at their lowest point that I find myself most awed and inspired. I interview the families soon after they move into the shelter, and I frequently find myself touched by their obvious sin-cerity and goodwill. When I hear what they have been through, the obstacles they have met with, and the few resources available, I doubt that I would have done as well when faced with the same When one is continually faced with different forms of powerlessness, eventually it dawns that only God can deal with it, and the more a person becomes one with God, the more one can become the presence of God to others plunged in these human situations. November-December 1994 827 Jackson ¯ A Reflection on Living Between the Times challenges. Every now and then I have a clear sense of the Holy coming through to me as they explain their predicament and their hopes and fears. It is an unmistakable flash of Goodness. Occasionally I tell them that it is a privilege to be part of their lives because this is truly a special time, even though it may not seem so to them. I do not have the boldness to say to them that it is a sacred time, but I believe that it is. Learning from the Homeless My experiences with homeless families have taught me a great deal. While what I have learned is on a personal level, I believe that it can also teach us about religious life "between the times." Thus far, I have learned two truths. First: The quality of one's presence means more than specific activ-ities. The poor are hungry for understanding and encouragement. It does not take them long to figure out whether someone is with them or against them. If they know a person truly cares about them, they will forgive all kinds of mistakes, including impatience and forgetfulness and grouchiness. They free me to be human just like them. And they somehow receive what they need, even when I do not know what it is I am giving. A mildly retarded young man taught me about this one day. He was grieving over his recently deceased mother, even though she was an alcoholic who often abused him. He was very upset, and it seemed to me that it would be helpful for him to verbalize his feelings about his mother. So I took him to a quiet prayer room, and in the context of a rather vague prayer invited him to. close his eyes, remember his mother and talk to her. Then I sat there holding his hand, watching his face wrinkle. Evidently some-thing was going on, but I did not know what. I wondered whether I should say something. Fortunately, I kept quiet. Then he opened his eyes and said: "She came. She came and told me everything will be OK." He hugged me and then left the room transformed into his usual cheerful self. There was also the family who stayed in our shelter while trying to learn how to better cope with two sons with attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder and a teenage daughter who had a~ttempted suicide. Eventually they got on their feet financially, moved out and seemed to be doing fairly well. Then one day the mother showed up to tell me that her husband had gone to inpa- 828 Review for Religious tient treatment for alcoholism, a problem which he had success-fully hidden from our staff. She asked for my help in explaining her predicament to the food pantry which had helped her in the past, for she feared that they would not understand that their needs had changed now that his paycheck would be missing for a month. She said: "I came to you because you never judged me." Moving past the apostolic era of religious life does not mean there is nothing left to do. Instead the emphasis is on how we do whatever we do, how we are brother and sister to one another. Brother and sister are not titles of honor that situate us at a level in society. Instead they become true relational realities. Second: Having nothing is not that bad. There is quite a differ-ence between a newly poor and homeless family and one that has been that way for some. time. The new ones are tense and fearful about being in a shelter for the first time. At some point they nervously tell me that they have only ten or twenty dollars left, and they just do not know what they will do when it is all gone. The ones who have been poor and/or homeless for much of their lives are calm and relaxed compared to the new ones. These are the survivors. They know how to work the system to get the basics they need from complex bureaucratic agencies that are not par-ticularly "user friendly." They often do not have two dimes to rub together, but it is no big deal, because they know how to get by on nothing. They ask for what they need, readily share with others reduced to nothing, and more or less roll with the punches that life gives them. I suspect that most religious congregations are very much like the first group, the newly homeless. Because we have become so used to being solidly middle class, we can find ourselves in a I suspect that most religious congregations are very much like the first group, the newly homeless. Perhaps we need to reflect upon what it was that formerly gave us a sense of security and why we now feel threatened. November-Deconber 1994 829 Jackson ¯ A Reflection on Living Between the Times demoralized, even frantic state of mind. We nervously count up our members, especially the dwindling active ones and the few new vocations. And we wonder what will happen to us, what threatening snowballing effect may yet lie in store for us. We do not know how to handle being reduced to nothing. Perhaps we need to reflect upon what it was that formerly gave us a sense of security and why we now feel threatened. Can we learn from the second group, the homeless who are survivors? Can we let go of our anxious defenses and accept the poverty that is becoming part of our lives? I have not yet made that transition, but I do have hope that ~eventually we as religious will find that it is no big deal, because we will have learned how to get by on nothing, just like our foundresses and founders did. They asked for what they needed; they readily shared with oth-ers reduced to nothing, and they more or less rolled with the punches that life gave them. They were happy and holy people who trusted in God to provide while they were busy answering the Lord's call as they heard it in the lives of the poor around them. And God did indeed provide. I think of my own foundress, Mother Odilia Berger who arrived in St. Louis with four companions and five dollars. They immediately began caring for smallpox and cholera victims. A few years later she sent thirteen of her small band of thirty-one sisters to other cities to care for victims of yellow fever. Five contracted the illness and never returned; undaunted, she continued. The Changing Idea of God Elizabeth Johnson does get to the heart of the matter when she asks how our idea of God is changing. While I cannot speak for religious life as a whole, my own idea of God has changed considerably throughout my life and continues to be influenced by my experiences. For some time now the image of God or Jesus as King has not appealed to me. I am not even sure what glorious means when applied to God. I can relate a glorious sunset to the glory of God, whatever that glory may be. But much that is con-sidered glorious and impressive in our American culture is little more than a glitzy sham quite unconnected to God. The idea of an omnipotent war-making God is the opposite of my experience. Our God is a God of conversion and transformation, but not by force and violence. The Berlin Wall was kept in place by force 830 Review for Religious and violence, but now it is gone. Why? Because only when peo-ple change does real change happen. The ethnic struggles in the former Soviet Union and the former Yugoslavia show us clearly that military force was a fleeting kind of power that made no sig-nificant change at all, for it did not reach people's hearts. I have seen the negative power of a lack of love. I have seen individuals who will probably be able to function at only a min-imum level the rest of their lives because of the physical and sex-ual abuse that surrounded them in their formative years. "Love one another" is powerful indeed. If I could wave a magic wand and make one change worldwide, I would choose to eradicate abuse and its terrible aftermath, for it would surely transform the entire world. For me, God is the Compassionate One who is always with us in all our difficulties. This God lets us learn from the conse-quences of our actions, which is both the hardest and the surest way of learning. This God is the Patient One who waits and waits until we are ready. Were we to "play God," we would operate quite the opposite, for we would push and force things along, ready or not. God is the Mysterious One who understands all that happens and seldom shares the final answer we want to know. God works with whatever is happening in order to draw good from it, good that often seems to lie beyond our horizon. God is definitely not like the television dramas that are resolved with a thrilling climax in the last ten minutes of a sixty-minute show. I yearn to become one with this God, for then "a certain intuition arises by which one begins to know and love the world as God does." Noventber-December 1994 831 charism BETTY ANN MCNEIL Motherhood-- Elizabeth Seton's Prism of Faith Bishop Simon Brut4 SS cited devotion to the Blessed Virgin as one of the halhnarks of Elizabeth Seton's spiri-tuality. 1 As one biographer observers, "It was the bond of motherhood that helped Elizabeth comprehend the coln-passion of Mary [and] her role as co-redemptrix, even before it had been taught to her" (Dirvin 8). Inherently open to newness, "motherhood involves a special com-munion with the mystery of life."-' Who was this woman who professed that she "would gladly make every sacri-fice., consistent with my first and inseparable obligations as a mother?''3 Wife and Mother--Steps to Sanctity Born an Episcopalian in New York, Elizabeth Ann Bayley (1774-182 i) married William Magee Seton (1768- 1803) in 1794. Their marriage was blessed with three daughters (Annina, Rebecca, and Catherine Josephine) and two sons (William and Richard). Healthy, happy, and enjoying the comforts of social status and prosperity, the young family soon encountered bankruptcy because of Betty Ann McNeil DC holds a Master of Social VVork degree from Virginia Co~mnonwealth University and has served in var-ious social worl~ roles in Virginia, Maryland, and the District of Columbia. Currently involved in fund development for the Emxnitsburg province of the Daughters of Charity, she may be reached at Saint Joseph's Provincial House; Emmitsburg, Maryland 21727-9297. 832 Review for Religious financial reversals in their business. When Wil!jam became ill with tuberculosis, he and Elizabeth and their eldest daughter Annina embarked on a sea voyage in a desperate attempt to regain his health. Upon arrival at the Italian Rivera, the family was quar-antined in a damp, dark lazaretto which was but a dramatic pref-ace to Elizabeth's widowhood at the age of twenty-nine. The Filicchi family, William's business associates, befriended Elizabeth and extended gracious hospitality to the young American widow and her daughter. During their stay in Leghorn the Setons learned about Roman Catholicism from the Filicchis. After return-ing to the United States, Elizabeth converted to Catholicism (1805), struggled unsuccessfully to support her family in New York, and then moved to Maryland (1808) at the invitation of Reverend William Dubourg SS, to begin a school in Baltimore. Through the generosity of a benefactor, the school relocated (1809) to rural Emmitsburg where the Sisters of Charity, the first religious institute founded in the United States, was established. For her sisters Mother Seton adapted the Common Rules of the Daughters of Charity developed by Saint Vincent de Paul (1581- 1660) and Saint Louise de Marillac (1591-1660). Elizabeth championed the cause of justice and charity in health care, social works, and education, especially for women. Like Our Lady, Elizabeth became a model of faith and commit-ment as wife and mother, and her maternal journey through the joys and sorrows of life led her into deeper discipleship with Jesus Christ.4 Canonized in 1975, Elizabeth Ann Seton became the first native-born American declared a saint by the Roman Catholic Church. From Daughtei" to Mother Elizabeth craved mothering herself as a child but truly became the "mother of many daughters''5 as the religious foundress called Mother Seton. She herself acknbwledged that "the bonds of nature and grace all twined together. The parent offers the child, the child the parent, and both are united in the source of their being, and rest together in redeeming love" (Dirvin, 75). If Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton were to describe her relationship with Mary, the Mother of God, she would do so in the first per-son using her own words. Her account might be based on the events and reflections that she herself recorded in her numerous letters November-December 1994 833 McNeil * Motherhood and journal entries. Elizabeth would convey her own powerful feelings as she retold her inspiring story about the challenges and opportunities she encountered in Italy, New York and Maryland. The narrative style of this article now changes to first per-son, using quotations from Seton's letters and other writings woven with words of my own creation. By this process I hope to describe her prism of faith from her own experience of mother-hood and how that drew her to Mary. The resulting bonds united these maternal hearts and generated a wellspring of Marian devo-tion for Elizabeth.6 Heartache in Italy . One of my dearest remembrances is feeling called to "full confidence in God" when the "Ave Maria bells [rang] as we entered the port of Leghorn while the sun was setting." As an Episcopalian I came to know Miriam of Nazareth through read-ing my Bible. Later in life she played an important role in my own journey of faith, and I referred to her as "the first Sister of Charity on earth." I endured piercing pain and heartache in Italy. Having five children myself, I felt a special closeness to the joys and sorrows of Mary's maternal heart. After my husband's tragic illness and death in Italy, my cross seemed so heavy. While I was staying in the Filicchi's home,7 "I looked up to the blessed Virgin appealing to her that as the Mother of God, she must pity me, and obtain from him that blessed faith of these happy souls [the Filicchi fam-ily] around me. I then noticed a small prayer book open on the table and . . . my eye . . . fell on Saint Bernard's prayer to the Blessed Virgin Mary--How earnestly I said., that Memorare." Acknowledging my pent-up grief, I soon confided rather poignantly to my "soul-sister" Rebecca Seton8 that: God would stirely refuse nothing to his mother. [and] that I felt really I had a mother [now] which you know my fool-ish heart laments to have lost in early days--from the first remembrance of infancy I have looked in all the plays of childhood and wildness of youth to the clouds for my mother, and at that moment it seemed as if I had found more than her, ~ven in tenderness and pity of a Mother-- so I cried myself to sleep on her heart. The Filicchi family introduced Annina9 and me to their 834 Review for Religious beloved Catholic faith. In Florence we visited the lovely Church of the Annunziata where I experienced a deep sense of peace, despite my grieving heart. "I sank to my knees in the first place I found vacant, and shed a torrent of tears . " In the church of San Lorenzo by the Medici chapels, my heart simply burst. "A sensation of delight struck me so forcibly that as I approached the great altar. I prayed 'My soul doth magnify the Lord, my spirit rejoices in God my savior.' These words., came in my mind with a fervor which absorbed every other feeling." Later at the church of Santa Maria Novella the large painting of the Descent from the Cross "engaged my whole soul. Mary at the foot of it expressed well that the iron had entered into her--and the shades of death over her agonized countenance so strongly contrasted the heavenly peace of the dear Redeemer's that it seem[ed] as if his pains had fallen on her--How hard it was to leave that picture." For hours after I left it, ". I shut my eyes and recall[ed] it in imagination." At the Shrine of Our Lady of Grace in Montenero, I reflected that "I am a mother, so the mother's thought came also. How was my God a little babe in the first stage of his mortal existence in Mary?" Since she was the mother of Jesus, I intuitively felt her maternal solicitude for nay bereaved situation. That thought drew me into deeper relationship with her who was "always, every-where, in every moment, day and night, conscious [that] she was his mother." Discernment in New York When I returned to New York on 4June 18041 was discern-ing my future--how could I provide for my darling children? I yearned for Jesus in the Eucharist and felt drawn to Mary, his mother. My Episcopal communion did not condone Marian devo-tion, and I wondered how I could believe that the "prayers and litanies addressed to the Blessed Lady were acceptable to God." I was earnestly searching for the true faith. I was an "uncertain soul" and hesitated to teach my children the Hail Mary in our Protestant milieu. I still fondly recall that August evening in 1804 when Annina coaxed me to lead "our first Hail Mary in our little closet." I was saying night prayers with the children "when Nina said, 'Oh, Ma, let us say Hail Mary.' 'Do, Ma,' said Willy. And the Hail Mary we all said with little November-December 1994 835 McNeil ¯ Motherhood Bec looking into my face to catch the words she could not pro-nounce, but in a manner which would have made all laugh if Mother's tears had not fixed their attention." "I asked my Saviour why should we not say it [the Hail Mary], if anyone is in heaven his mother must be there . . . so I begged Mary our mother with the confidence and tenderness of her child to pity us and guide us to the true faith, if we were not in it, and if we were, to obtain peace for my poor soul, that I [might] be a good mother to my poor darlings . So I kissed [Mary's] picture that [Amabilia] gave me, and begged her to be a mother to us. I saw faith [as] a gift of God to be diligently sought and earnestly desired. So I prayed to Mary to help me. I begged. God to look in my soul and see how gladly I would., joyfully show [his mother] every expression of reverence., if I could do it with that freedom of soul which flowed from the knowledge of his will." After my decision to become a Catholic,1° my doubts were replaced by an abiding love of the true church and devotion to the Blessed Mother. I was easily moved, and so I expressed my reli-gious sentiments warmly and impulsively. I took Mary as my con-firmation name to "sort of fill out the trio of mothers" already honored by the name Elizabeth Ann. I recognized that my life, like Mary's was really grounded in the paschal mystery with all its struggles, grief, and hope. This realization helped me to discern God's will. I often found peace through praying the Memorare. I found strength in contemplating the suscipe of Jesus in his crucifixion, primarily in the painting by the Mexican artist Jos~ Vallejo that hung in Saint Peter's in my native city. Vision in Maryland Finally I came to Maryland on a mission. In Emmitsburg, where I founded the Sisters of Charity, I came to a deeper under-standing of the Glories ofMa~7. I saw her as my model and teacher in the spiritual life, particularly in herfiat and feminine resilience as a courageous woman of faith. I often reveled about the ". virtues of Mary--the constant delight of the blessed Trinity--she alone giving them more glory than all heaven together. Mother of God! Mary! Oh, the purity of Mai'y! The humility, patience, love of Mary!" I tried to imitate her as much as possible and believed that "our best honor to Mary is the imitation of her virtues--her 836 Review for Religious life a model for all conditions of life--her poverty, humility, purity, love--and suffering." Mary's example led me to discover "Jesus in Mary, Mary in Jesus in our prayers--her name so often in the divine sacrifice. Like Mary, our blessed mother, we will possess Jesus. born for me, lived fir me, died fir me, and now stays on earth to be with me as my father, my brother, my com-panion and friend--to be . . . near me in the holy Eucharist. and as certainly to come to my heart as he came to. the arms of his Virgin Mother." Prayer taught me "how sweet to entreat Mary who bore him in the bosom of peace to take our own case in hand. If she is not heard, who shall be?" I realized that "Jesus delighted to receive our love embellished and purified through the heart of Mary, as from the heart of a friend." I never slept without "my crucifix under my pillow and the Blessed Virgin's picture pressed on the heart . " Mary's divine motherhood touched and moved my own maternal heart. So often grieved by separation and loss, I forged a strong spiritual bond with her and reflected that "We honor her continually with our Jesus. his nine months within her., what passed between them., she alone knowing him-- he her only tabernacle Mary, fidl of Grace, Mother of Jesus." I pondered in my journal about "the infancy of Jesus--in her lap-- on her knees . . . caressing, playing in her arms. Jesus on the breast of Mary feeding. How long she must have delayed the weaning of such a child!" I identified even more with Mary as a sorrowful mother when I cared for my dying daughter Annina. During the stark days of darkness after her death, I found myself "begging, crying to Mary to behold her son and plead for us, and to Jesus to behold his mother--to pity a mother, this poor, poor mother." When "with a quiet satisfied heart" I reflected on Mary's com-passionate presence in the "thousand encounters with the cross" that had been my lot. "It seemed as if our Lordstood continuously by me in a corporeal form to comfort, cheer, and encourage me I identified even more with Mary as a sorrowful mother when I cared for my dying daughter Annina. November-December 1994 837 McNeil ¯ Motherhood in the different weary and tedious hours of pain. Sometimes sweet Mary, also, gently coaxing me . I sat with my pain in order to accept it as my share in the paschal mystery and discovered "how generous is our Lord who strengthened my poor soul." In our small chapel I prayed to know God's will. My painting of Our Lady of Guadalupe11 hung there and I often commended my sons in the navy to the care of Mary, Star of the Ocean, when they were at sea. Likewise, I asked Mary, Queen of Apostles, to intercede for the needs of the clergy, especially for my dear friend and confidante Father Brut& Conclusion My passion for seeking God's will often moved me to encour-age my religious daughters to greater spiritual vitality, challeng-ing them to be women of prayer. "Sisters of Charity, your admirable name must excite in you every preparation to do justice to your vocation." Together we reflected: "Jesus is as a fire in the very center of our souls ever burning. Yet, we are cold because we do not stay by it. How can we honor the mysteries of our Jesus without honor-ing Mary in them all?" Truly "How happy the earth to possess [Mary] so long--a secret blessing to the rising church. I thank God for having made me a child of his church . My deepest desire for you is that you always 'Be children of the church! Be children of the church!'" Notes l Brut~ listed the following characteristics of Elizabeth Seton's spir-ituality: "the Church, the Blessed Sacrament, prayer for herself and her children, the Blessed Virgin and the priestly character." See Joseph I. Dirvin CM, The Soul of Elizabeth Seton--A Spiritual Portrait (San Francisco: Ignatius Press, 1990), p. 37. 2 John Paul II, "Motherhood---~rginity," On the Dignity and Vocation of~Vomen (1988), Article 18. 3 Ellin M. Kelly, Ph.D., and Annabelle Melville, ed., Selected IVritings of Elizabeth Seton, (New York: Paulist Press, 1987), p. 274. 4 John Paul II, "Behold Your Mother," Mother of the Redeemer (The Vatican, 1987), Article 20. s Elizabeth Ann Seton to Cecilia Seton, 6 October 1808. Quoted in Annabelle Melville, Elizabeth Barley Seton, (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1951; rev. ed. St. Paul, Minnesota: Carillon Books, 1976), p. 189. 838 Review for Religious 6 Quotations from Seton's letters and other writings used in the fol-lowing sections of this article are taken from Kelly, Selected l~Vritings, Dirvin, Soul, and Celeste, VVoman of Prayer. To maintain the flow of the narrative, no specific references are cited. 7 Having arrived in Leghorn 19 November 1803 the Setons were quarantined in the lazaretto, until 19 December. After their release they went to a rented home in Pisa where William Magee Seton died 27 December 1803. Elizabeth and her daughter Annina became the guests of Antonio and Amabilia Filicchi, business friends of the Seton family. They remained at Leghorn with the Filicchis until April 1804 when they left for the United States. They were accompanied by Antonio Filicchi on the return voyage. 8 Elizabeth Seton often referred to her sister-in-law as her own "soul's sister." Rebecca Seton (1780-1804) was a younger half-sister of William Magee Seton. 9 Anna Maria Seton (1795-1812), the oldest child of Elizabeth Ann and William Magee Seton, travelled to Italy with her parents in 1803. She was called Annina and also Nina. ,0 On 14 March 1805 Elizabeth Seton made her profession of faith in the Roman Catholic Church at Saint Peter's Church (Barclay Street, New York) in the presence of Antonio Filicchi and Reverend Matthew O'Brien. 1, Matthias O'Conway, a Spanish translator in Philadelphia, gave this painting to Mother Seton. It hung in the sisters' chapel and later in the novitiate. His daughter, Cecilia O'Conway, was among the first women to join Elizabeth Seton's new sisterhood in Baltimore (7 December 1808). 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 distri-bution, advertising, or institutional promotion or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will be consid-ered only on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. November-December 1994 839 JOSEPH NASSAL Reclaiming Our Name ~naeltx kto d aolwl tnh eth ne aamisele b orfa na dgsr oocfe aryn ys tpoarert aicnudl anro ptircoed tuhcatt, there are also some generic items. Generic brands are more eco-nomical and promise to give the same quality as the more expen-sive name brands. But walk into a store of religious life and you will notice this: There are no generic brands, only name brands. When an interested "shopper" takes one of those name-brand r~ligious congregations off the shelf, he or she is advised to read the label carefully. Religious life shoppers are given time to sam-ple the contents to see if this brand name is what they are look-ing for to be a healthy, happy, and holy human being. The candidate is given time to explore carefully whether this particu-lar congregation lives up to its name. And the community will do the same. In religious terms, we call this formation. There is, of course, the basic Christian spirituality that under-scores all we do. But founders of religious communities were inspired by the Spirit to give flesh to particular aspects of Christian spirituality by responding to specific needs in the church and world of their day. From the galaxy of gifts spun like stars from the hand of the Holy Spirit, various individuals were charged with the challenge to meet these needs. This does not mean that the charism of the Vincentians is more important than the charism of the Jesuits or that the Dominican charism is a higher calling than the charism of the Precious Blood. What it does is under-score that at the particular time these congregations were founded, Joseph Nassal CPPS is involved in retreat and renewal ministry for the Congregation of Missionaries of the Precious Blood. His address is Schaefer Mission House; 2110 Hughes Road; Liberty, Missouri 64068. 840 Review for Religious the church and the world were pleading for the Christian truth carried in these charisms. Many religious communities died, once a particular need was addressed, changed, and fulfilled. This is the dramatic and dan-gerous reality confronting many in religious life today. Some con-gregations are barely hanging on, and the crisis they are engaged. in has less to do with the lack of members and more to do with the lack of meaning or lack of clarity about charism. Some commu-nities linger on well after their original purpose has been exhausted. As in the case of invited guests who stay too long and wear out their welcome, one important dimension of religious life is to have the courtesy, good sense, and timing to know when to leave. To know when to die. Otherwise, we might linger to the point when our host, who is the Holy Spirit, whispers: "I'm going to bed. The last one out, turn off the lights." I know men and women in religious communities whose greatest fear is that they will be the last one left in their congregation. Clarity about charism is essential to any refounding efforts taking place in religious life today. If a community is not trans-parent in its identity and purpose, it should not wonder why it is not attracting candidates to its community. Instead, it should worry about why it is existing at all and begin to make the nec-essary arrangements for a ritual of dying. That is why it is impor-tant for candidates and community members alike to read the label carefully and check the expiration date. Charism as Energy Part of the process of reading the labels and forming com-munity is to tell the stories of our spirituality. When we tell the stories of our common life, we tap the energy source of our com-munity: our charism. I have always liked the description of charism as energy. Like a shooting star against the dark night of injustice and ignorance, founders of religious communities lit up the landscape with a burst of hope. Their energy source was the charism given them by the Holy Spirit; their passion was the spirituality they lived, a spirituality sparked by the charism. In the charism that captures the founder's commitment, there is potential for life. Our respon-sibility is to discover what that energy is for us today. It is the charism that calls us into being. November-December 1994 841 Nassal ¯ Reclaiming Our Name We are to be involved in the kinds of apostolates our founders would be involved in if they were alive today. In my own case, I am a priest of the Congregation of the Most Precious Blood founded by St. Gaspar, del Bufalo in Rome on 15 August 1815. "For this I am a priest," Gaspar wrote, "to proclaim the merits of the Precious Blood of Jesus Christ." A couple of years ago I.was giving a day of recollection for our can-didates in formation, and I spoke about Precious Blood spirituality for three conferences. One of the semi-narians asked me, "All you talk about is Precious Blood spirituality. There are other spiritualities, you know. Why do not you ever mention them?" "Because," I said, "I am a Precious Blood priest! And you are studying for a congregation imbued with the spirituality of the Blood of Christ. It is important in our discernment that we know who we are, what we believe, and what motivates us in our apostolic and communal life." The charism granted to the founder of a religious congregation was not given for his or her personal devotion or pri-vate use. The gift was meant for others. Though our times may be vastly differ-ent from our founder's, the same energy source is present: It is the Spirit of God enabling us to respond to the situation of these times by using our charism for the service o]~ others. Pope Paul VI said that the charism of the founder must remain in the community and be the source of life for the com-munity. If not, then we may be doing good work; we may be pur-suing lives of holiness, hope, and hospitality; we may be living in community and caring for each other with compassion. But unless we are animated and energized by the spirit of our founder, we are not living the name, the vision, or the spirituality for which we were founded. Our identity is found in our charism. The charism does not change. The energy source that sparked St. Gaspar is the same today as it was in 1815 when he founded the Society of the Precious Blood. What changes is our response that is shaped by the currents of history. In the pursuit of our original passion--the return to the 842 Review for Religious sources called for by the Second Vatican Council--some in my community would have us go back all the way. For example, preaching missions and giving retreats were the primary means by which Gaspar lived his charism. In a letter to Msgr. Nicola Mattei on 2 July 1820, Gaspar wrote: "Missions and retreats., are the two means of reform for the world." But at the present time, there are very few members of the congregation in North America who are involved in retreat and renewal ministry. Most of our members are involved in parish ministry. Some are in hospital work or campus ministry or other specialized ministries. History changed the expression of our charism. Though we were founded in Italy, it was a group of German-born priests and brothers who brought the community to the United States. They came to minister to German-speaking immigrants in Ohio. They became parish priests which explains why, in the United States at least, many of our current members still minister in parishes. Returning to our original charism does not mean we have to abandon parish ministry and have all our members involved in retreat and renewal ministry. But it does mean that in whatever apostolate we find ourselves, we are to be faithful to our charism and must be about the work of reconciliation and renewal that captured Gaspar's life. Adapting the Charism The criterion is .this: We are to be about the work of the founders. We are to be involved in the kinds of apostolates our founders would be involved in if they were alive today. It is my personal bias that Gaspar would still be preaching missions and giving retreats. I believe this not only because I am presently involved in this ministry but because in reading about Gaspar's life and times, I have come to the eerie conclusion that our present age is not much different from his time. Of course we are more tech-nologically advanced, but the roots of the problems Gaspar preached about in his time are still with us today. Gaspar lived at the time of the French Revolution. He went into exile rather than accede to Napoleon's request to take an oath of allegiance to the emperor. When he returned to Rome after Napoleon's defeat, the city was in chaos. Gaspar was called to preach missions to revive the citizens of Rome. He went to the streets, carrying the crucifix (still our official religious habit), November-December 1994 843 Nassal ¯ Reclaiming Our Name We need to answer the question, "What is the energy that inspires me and gives me life?" and preached the reconciliation won for us in the blood of the cross. He invited others to find safety in the shadow of the cross. He encouraged the people to whom he spoke to find healing in the wounds of Christ. Gaspar, like the apostle Paul before him, sought to "bring others near through the blood of Christ." Our world today screams for reconciliation. In the United States, we live in the aftermath of the Reagan Revolution. Depending on where we stand, we can char-acterize the fallout of the last two decades in various ways. But that is the point: We stand apart, often divided by barricades of mistrust and militarism, greed and economic exploitation, racism and sexism. In our multi-cultural society today, we are afraid to stand near each other. Our church reflects this same reality. In our diocesan newspaper a few years ago, two articles on the same page exemplified how separate we are. One of the articles was Leonardo Boff's moving letter about why he had to resign from the priesthood and his religious community. The other was a state-ment from Pope John Paul II reaffirming the hierarchical model of tkie church. We live in an age of clashing ecclesiologies. Sometimes the noise is so loud we hardly hear the music playing in each other's hearts. Now I must ask myself what impact these divisions, the sense of separateness, have on my own understanding of the spiritual- ' ity and charism of my congregation? I respond by believing that to be faithful to Gaspar's vision, I will do my best to listen to those voices of women who feel alienated and left out by a male-dominated, hierarchical church. (The example of Boff, whose writings and witness I greatly admire, begs the ancient question: What is the best way to change the system--from within or from outside the structure?) If I am faithful to my founder's vision, I will do my best to be inclusive and collaborative in my words and in my witness. If I am faithful to Gaspar's dream, I will seek to live a spirit of reconcil-iation that brings peoples together. I will listen to those who chal-lenge structures and rules and regulations that imprison rather than free the human spirit. I will speak out against injustice in 844 Review for Relig4ous society as well as the church while always seeking to live in the spirit of the Blood of Christ. This is how my father Gaspar lived. He had the words of Paul's letter to the Ephesians imprinted on his soul: Now in Christ Jesus you who were once far off have been brought near through the blood of Christ. It is he who is our peace, and who made the two of us one by breaking down the barrier of hostility that kept us apart (Ep 2:13-14). The Gospel of Jesus Christ is the only authentic vision Christians claim. My founder, St. Gaspar, reflected this vision but highlighted the particular aspect of reconciliation. No one can claim the whole vision, but each religious community claims a part of it even as we seek to live all of it. In doing so, we artic-ulate in the language of our lives not only the vision of Jesus but the charism of OUR founder. The ingredients--the Gospel of Christ and the charism of the founder--become the norms for our ongoing personal and communal renewal. When we live the vision and capture the charism of our founder in the everyday stories of our lives, then the founder's dream becomes our own. And when the founder's passion becomes known in the natural expression of our commitment, we know who we are. We know our name. We know where and with whom we belong. Most importantly, as the losses keep mounting around us, we know why we stay. Rediscovering Our Identity To discover again what this charism is for us today, we need to answer the question, "What is the energy that inspires me and gives me life?" In reflecting on the charism of our congregation and the particular gifts I bring to the community's enterprise, I must tap my own potential. This means I ask myself what is it that motivates me, excites me, moves me? A few years as director of formation for my province, I was asked by my provincial to accompany one of our former priest members in the process of returning to the community. As part of this process, the provincial, vice-provincial, and myself met with the former member and a facilitator. At one point the facilitator asked each of us to answer these questions: "Why did you join this community? Why do you stay?" The questions forced me to look honestly at my commitment November-December 1994 845 Nassal ¯ Reclaiming Our Name to this congregation. I knew that I began studying for the com-munity because I wanted to be a priest and at that time (Sth grade), any community would do. But as the years of formation went by, I knew I wanted to belong to this community because of the people--the ones who taught me and mentored me; the ones who inspired me and befriended me; the ones who challenged and consoled me. But I also knew at the moment he asked the question, that these people were not the reason I stay as a member of the Congregation of the Most Precious Blood. When my best friend in the community left a few years ago, his leaving shook my com-mitment as well. His leaving forced me to ask myself why I stayed. I stay because of the spirituality. I stay because of the passion I feel in my bones for the charism of Gaspar. I know I could live this spirituality as a lay person. I know I could reflect this charism in others ways as a priest. But right now in my life, I know in my soul why I am a priest: to proclaim the Blood of Christ. That is the energy source that gives meaning to my life as a missionary of the Congregation of the Most Precious Blood. Gaspar's life, his ministry, his call were colored by the Precious Blood. The redeeming power of the Blood was why he did what he did. It is also the reason I do what I do. It gives shape to who I am and meaning to my life. It gives me my name. Petition God-man, enduring helplessness on Adam's tree, help those whose daily cross it is enduring me! Judith Powell 846 Review for Religious MARYANNE STEVENS Revitalizing Charisms Inspiring Religious Life ere is little doubt that religious orders of priests, sisters 1l and brothers in the United States have been in transition over the last thirty years. Called by the Second Vatican Council to "a constant return to the sources of the whole of the Christian life and to the primitive inspiration of the institutes, and their adaptation to the changed conditions of our time,"' they have examined every aspect of their lives: their prayer, work, dress, daily horarium, relationships with one another, the church, and society. One result is a major paradigm shift accompanied by the emotional and spiritual difficulties associated with massive change. Many members who had developed a fairly rigid lifestyle in their order of prayer, work, and recreation found it difficult to rethink even the smallest of details. Others, encouraged by a call freeing their gifts and talents from serving only in schools and hospitals, brimmed~w~ith possibilities for, new services to the impoverished. Some, either disillusioned by the changes or in recognition of a different calling, left their communities. No superficial innovations were involved here. Every aspect of life in religious orders became the subject of intense discussion both within the communities and within the church at large. A period of experimentation with new forms of ministry, community, and prayer ensued, and finally constitutions were rewritten and sub- Maryanne Stevens RSM has edited Reconstructing the Christ Symbol (Mahwah, New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1994). She is associate professor of theology at Creighton University. Her address is 2500 California Plaza; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. November-December 1994 847 Stevens ¯ Revitalizing Cbarisms Inspiring Religious Life mitted to the magisterium. The form of religious life is clearly different today than it was thirty years ago. Contemporaneous with the call to religious orders to rethink their presentation of themselves in the world was the church's reassertion of the Biblical understanding that the "Spirit of God distributes special graces among the faithful of every rank" thus making them "fit and ready to undertake the various tasks or offices advantageous for the renewal and the upbuilding of the church.''2 The church called all the faithful to rethink their response to baptism. What had become a tripartite hierarchy of ministers--cleric, vowed religious, and layperson--was abolished with the church's recognition of all baptized believers as sharers in the mission and in the function of the Christ. The revised Code of Canon Law, published twenty years after Vatican II, described Christ's faithful as "those who, since they are incorporated in Christ through baptism, are constituted the people of God . They are called, each according to his or her particular condi-tion, to exercise the mission which God entrusted to the church to fulfill in the world.''3 That is, we all have a vocation. Family life, religious life, the diocesan priesthood, the desire to remain single, the response of the lawyer, the doctor, the firefighter, the home-maker-- each is its own gift to building up the communion, the body of Christ. Today, the number of women and men entering religious orders has declined considerably, and the number of women and men not in religious orders serving as ministers within the church has mushroomed. Many believe religious life is dying. But such assertions are not easily proven, despite the rise in median age and the lack of new membership. In fact, a recent plethora of studies on various facets of religious life indicate a phenomenon baffling to the social sciences. Declining personnel and financial resources coupled with a lack of role clarity should indicate a death toll. Yet other factors which usually signal a dying organi-zation such as centralization of authority, fear of risk, loss of morale, cynicism, and an unwillingness to adapt to changing con-ditions are not present in large measure in religious orders.4 Some say the numbers would go up if the form of religious life prevalent before the Council was readopted. Even the official magisterium appears concerned about what the Council set in motion. The retrieved and rearticulated correlations between baptism and ministry coupled with the renewal of religious orders 848 Reviezv for Religious did precipitate a crisis for religious orders, a crisis I prefer to call a "new opportunity," but the crisis is not about what form religious life should specify nor about the type of dress a sister or brother should wear, or what kind of daily schedule one should follow. It is not even about whether feminism should be allowed to influence women religious or whether they should pledge obedience to the ecclesiastical authorities. Form is never the first question; function is. The real crisis for the church is about the function of religious orders. The role of religious orders seemed clear enough in the United States prior to the post World War II prosperity of American Catholics. The exten-sive emigration of eighteenth-century Europeans to the United States, coupled with the enslav-ing throes of the industrial rev-olution, found U.S. bishops calling on men and women reli-gious to provide the Catholic immigrants with health care, education and social services. By the 1950s, largely because of the educational opportunities of the post World War II GI bill and the great work of Catholic religious orders in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, Catholic Americans were no longer an anomaly within a society dominated by white Anglo-Saxon Protestants. There was less and less need for a massive labor force to help ghetto outsiders meet their needs within a strange culture. U.S. Catholics had, by and large, "arrived"; they were understood as contributors to the American way of life. They were ready for the call of the Second Vatican Council. In fact, the 1929-1959 heyday of the lay apos-tolate movement in the United States is the harbinger of the church's reaffirmation of all baptized believers as called to min-istry, s The church affirms the assertion of the Second Vatican Council: All baptized believers are called to ministry; all baptized believers are called to prayer; all baptized believers are called to What is the function or the purpose of religious life in our church and in our society today? Is religious life necessary? November-December 1994 849 Stevens ¯ Revitalizing Cbarisms Inspiring Religious Life holiness. Why, then, might our church, a family, or a parish encourage women or men in their midst to enter a religious com-munity? The Serra Club and inany vocations committees in parishes are organized ~o promote vocations to the diocesan priest-hood and religious life. Clearly the diocesan priesthood is central to the availability of Eucharist, but why religious life? What is the function or the purpose of religious life in our church and in our society today? Is religious life necessary? Are Charisms of Religious Communities Still Prophetic? Implicit in the confirmation of a particular charism or gift of a founder or foundress of a religious order by our church is an affirmation on the part of the church of the purposefulness of the gift. Religious orders are groups of men or women who have come together because of the inspiration of a charismatic person, that is, a person who had a gift for understanding and responding to a particular need within the church or society. (Charismatic here does not mean that special quality of leadership that cap-tures the popular imagination, as in naming a populist politician charismatic.) Charism, when used theologically, indicates a free gift of grace emanating from the Spirit of God. Church tradition affirms the necessity of charisms or divinely granted gifts to bear witness to the nature of the church. The church is holy because of the actual faith and love of God in its members, and faith and love are the result of the Spirit's action within us. As holy, the church compels faith and is a reason for faith in its outward appearance, but it could not do and be such without the freely given gifts or charisms of the Spirit. All the baptized share in many of these gifts--the gifts of patience, peace, ioy, and kindness. Yet there are some specially given--the gift of teaching, the gift of tongues, the gift of tongues in.terpreted, the gift of prophecy. In addition to these special charisms familiar to us from the epistles, the church teaches that an essential feature of the church's holiness is the appearance of charisms in con-stantly new forms to meet new situations. Our church has rec-ognized the evangelical counsels of poverty, celibacy, and obedience as charisms ordered to the upbuilding of the church and the good of the world. It has further confirmed as God-given the gifts of particular founders or foundresses of religious corn- 850 Review for Religdous munities through which the evangelical counsels of poverty, celibacy, and obedience traditionally have been focused. Thus we speak of the charism of Francis of Assisi, of Ignatius, of Catherine McAuley, of Benedict, Clare, and Elizabeth Seton. The confir-mation of these charisms is an acknowledgment on the part of the church that the insights fueling the passion of these great men and women are needed gifts if the church is to be church. Indeed church tradition presents the indestructibility of the church as due in part to the charisms continually given to it.6 For exam-pie, in confirming the gift of Francis of Assisi by pontifically char-tering the Franciscan community, the church said we, the church, need the witness of outrageous self-chosen poverty if the church is to be church. Or by confirming the charism of a Benedict and a Clare, the church said we, the church, need the gift of contin-ual prayer if the church is to be church. The memories of the social and cultural situations of these great men and women testify to the prophetic character of their gifts. Walter Brueggemann argues that prophecy in the Old Testament included the twin roles of criticizing and energizing. "The task of prophetic ministry is to nurture, nourish, and evoke a consciousness and perception alternative to the consciousness and perception of the dominant culture around us.''7 Isaiah, Jeremiah, and, paradigmatically, Jesus, did not just address specific public crises. They addressed the enduring and resilient crisis of the domestication and co-option of the vocation to contribute to a world of no more war, no more tears, a new heaven and a new earth. In nurturing a Christian vocation, one must assert that false claims to authority and power cannot keep their promises (criticize) and at the same time bring expression to new realities (energize). The role of a Dominic in denouncing the fourteenth-century church's heresy and at the same time forming an order of preach-ers, the role of a Catherine McAuley calling attention to the plight of poor women in the eighteenth-century Irish church were suc-cessful attempts to criticize the then present practice of the church and to awaken it to a new aspect of what the call of Jesus entailed in a particular historical circumstance. By confirming (albeit reluctantly) the gifts and charisms of these religious orders, our church confesses their necessity. Furthermore, canon law charges the religious order with the pro-tection of the legacy of their founding inspiration, what Paul VI termed their "constancy of orientation.''s Canon 578 states, "The November-December 1994 851 Stevens ¯ Revitalizing Cbarisms Inspiring Religious Life The function of religious life is precisely the protection of the orientation, the founding insight which the church needs so it might remain true to its mission. intention of the founders and their determination concerning the nature, purpose, spirit, and character of the institute which have been ratified by competent ecclesiastical authority as well as its wholesome traditions, all of which constitute the patrimony of the institute itself, are to be observed faithfully by all.9 The function of religious life is precisely the protection of the orientation, the founding insight which the church needs so it might remain true to its mission; the function of religious life is not to preserve a specific form of life for the future. It is this function that Vatican II recognized when it asked religious orders to adapt their "primitive inspiration" to the changed condition of our time. Theologian Johannes Metz refers to this function when he describes religious orders as the "shock-treatment" of the Holy Spirit within the church, an institution-alized form of a "dangerous mem-ory." Dangerous memory is a term used by Metz to denote those memories which challenge and make demands on us, as opposed to those memories in which the past becomes a paradise or refuge.1° Religious orders, if true to their charismatic and prophetic role, should challenge us to new understandings of our role as baptized believers and energize us with hope in God's promises. To take our church or Metz seriously is to realize that nostalgia for a past form of religious life which attracted great numbers to serve the educational and other social needs of an immigrant church is to dull the proper role of reli-gious orders. This is not to imply that there are not others within the church who might shock us into remembering our role as disci-ples of the Christ. In fact, there is a cloud of witnesses, among them Dorothy Day, Martin Luther King, John Howard Griffin, and Penny Lernoux. But just because others function in a similar 852 Review for Religious fashion does not mean that the church does not need to designate particular groups (historically, religious orders) to fulfill the role of awakening us to the potential domestication of our call to fol-low Jesus. Such a reflection on religious life and its proper role in the church gives rise to at least one question which must be openly faced by religious orders and by the church. Is the traditional vowed life well suited to incarnate these prophetic charisms within the church today? I would like to outline the beginnings of the conversation about this question and then conclude by calling attention to several challenges religious orders face if they are to aid the impulse of the Spirit in protecting these special charisms in our church. Is the Vowed Life Suited to Prophetic Ministry Today? My initial answer to this question is, "yes, but . " The vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience are well suited to prophetic ministry today, but focusing one's discipleship of Jesus through the life of a figure whose charism has been confirmed by the church does not necessitate the vowed life. In other words, the charismatic insight of the founders and foundresses of religious orders does not belong to those within religious orders, even though a par-ticular religious order's legacy and responsibility involves atten-tion to the continuance of the charism. The originator of the charisms is the Holy Spirit and thus, a particular prophetic impulse belongs to the whole church (the Roman Catholic church included), to all who are claimed by the passion of a particular figure. There may be others who are called to focus their disci-pleship through the prism of a particular special charism who are not at the same time professed in the vows of poverty, chastity and obedience. This is what I understand to be the basis for the rise of programs for non-vowed associates of religious orders today and for the energy behind mission integration programs in institutions sponsored by religious communities.11 But what of those thrice-vowed? Are they, as groups, suited to continue the needed prophetic ministry today? Certainly poverty, chastity, and obedience, if lived with integrity, do nor hinder one from calling attention to the claims of discipleship within the contemporary world. An adequate theology of the vows is yet to be articulated. However, the history of religious orders attests to November-December 1994 853 Stevens ¯ Revitalizing Cbarisms Inspiring Religious Life self-chosen poverty, chastity, and obedience as sources for the development of strategies for being in and for this world to encourage the liberation of all persons from the tyranny of that which hinders Jesus' vision. Because the original impulse for religious orders has been overshadowed in recent history by the prevailing norms of clois-ter and the industrial-age demand for labor, it is possible that the proper role of a religious order within the church has not yet been fully understood either by religious orders themselves or by the church at large. Indeed, the indication that a significant per-centage of religious no longer understand their role and function in the church was one of the most compelling results of the recent Nygren-Ukeritis study on the future of religious orders in the United States.12 This finding, however, should not surprise those aware of what historian David J. O'Brien terms "the most impor-tant single fact about our contemporary historical situation:" We must choose who we are going to be?3 The world of our fathers and mothers has died. The social institutions and cultural symbols that once provided security, legitimacy, taken for grantedness--in short, role clarity, not just for religious, but for mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, politicians, bankers, teachers, and clerics--have been eroded. Self-conscious choice is the norm for the smallest of our decisions, and it is necessary because of the awesome power we have made our own. Thus, we must think through our choice of diets, schools, and liturgies and agonize over assisted suicide, abortion, and nuclear power. Analogously, those in religious orders must decide how to use their power to affect the church. If these special charisms are necessary to the church's con-tinued holiness (and I think they are), then canon law rightly places a special responsibility on the religious orders who have been claimed by the particular charisms. Two particular chal-lenges must be borne in mind as religious orders seek the revi-talization of these special charisms. The first is the retrieval of the concept of vocation; the second is education about the charisms of religious orders. How Do We Retrieve the Concept of Vocation? First, the word vocation must be retrieved as a valid way of speaking about the focusing of one's discipleship of Jesus. One who possesses a charism that can be traced back to a great person in 854 Review for Religious the church does not become a member of a prophetic club; one is claimed by the Spirit for a purpose not fully defined by oneself. Words matter or, as Michael Bucldey notes, "words have an effect like architecture.''~4 Language either expands our percep-tions or limits them, as the buildings we inhabit allow us to see certain spaces in certain ways. Language is our means of com-munication with each other and the vehicle through which we think about ourselves, about others, and about God.Is New words are not coined just because new ways of seeing the world occur to us; new words or sets of words themselves have the power to transform reality. As Rebecca Chopp argue.s in The Power to Speak, "language can birth new meanings, new discourses, new signify-ing practices.''~6 On the one hand this can be most helpful; we need new meanings, new discourses, and new signifying practices that attend to those heretofore overlooked on the margins of our society and church. For example, the use of inclusive language in liturgical discourse makes it possible for women to know them-selves as addressed by God and as fully invited to worship of God in public. Or, we may need to suppress certain language patterns, such as the association of dark cake with "devil's food" and white cake with "angel's food" for the sake of people of color. However, changing words and expressions can be a double-edged sword. The risk of choosing new words to help dismantle an old order often means the lose of the valuable as well as the invaluable in the old. While the church did well do abandon use of such phrases as "you have a vocation," which often reduced the great mystery of responding to God to a possession of the elite, the substitution of member and membership to indicate par-ticipation in a community whose common self-understandings flow from a prophetic passion is a poor substitute. The word member indicates a juridical relationship defined by rights and responsibilities of a person in relation to an institution. We talk about being members of automobile clubs or other such groups to which we pay dues in return for services. Membership implies an exchange mentality where rights are honored only if one lives up to one's responsibilities. Vocation is a more adequate word to indicate the mystery of being claimed by a charism of the Holy Spirit and committing oneself to respond accordingly. The word vocation, to be called, is used in both religious and nonreligious circles to properly describe the mystery of finding oneself continually compelled to perform November-December 1994 855 Stevens ¯ Revitalizing Charisms Inspiring Religious Life a certain function or enter a certain occupation. In specifically .religious circles vocation indicates the mystery of knowing one-self as called to throw one's talents and gifts behind a certain way or ways of manifesting the Gospel message. Although one may find the reception of such a call problematic or even confusing, demanding a certain receptivity, reflection, and discernment, the word itself points clearly to the reality indicated, whereas mem-bership does not. By arguing for a retrieval of the word vocation to indicate the mystery of call and response to a particular charism confirmed by the church, I am not suggesting a return to a two-story Christianity, where nuns and pri.ests were given privileged status or assumed to be somehow closer to God. The Baltimore cate-chism, familiar to many Catholics over the age of 35 and popular in United States Catholic catechesis from the late 1800s through the 1960s, implicitly taught an understanding of vocation with its first two questions. The questions "Who made you?" and "Why did God make you?" proclaimed a belief in all of us as called to work out our lives in tandem with the mystery of God's life within us. M1 of us must give shape to the strength and talents we have received as gift; all of us must allow our contribution to the fullness of God's dwelling in our midst to unfold. Implicit in the Baltimore catechism questions was a belief in vocation--one's personal purpose is not completely determined by oneself. We are here for a reason, for a meaning not completely of our own making. Self-conscious choice is only part of the story. Our lives are purposeful even when or if we cannot ascertain their purpose. Our purpose, our reason for being here at this time and in this place, in this body with this identity, is bound to a call beyond us, a call from the ultimate mystery of mysteries, our God. My desire is not to restrict the use of the word vocation; it is rather to suggest to those in religious orders to continue to use the word to express the reason for their affiliation with a partic-ular community and to suggest that those not in religious orders adopt the language to speak about their self-understanding of the call to all baptized believers to contribute to Jesus' mission. How Do We Educate about the Necessity of Charisms? Traditionally we educate about that which we deem important or valuable. For example, if we think table manners important to 856 Review for Religious one's acceptance by others, we teach them to children. Or, if we think Shakespeare valuable to one's understanding of Western civilization, then we encourage the reading and dramatization of his works. Thus, it would follow that if we considered the power of the charisms inspiring religious orders important to the church, we would educate those within the church about them. Those in religious orders need to anticipate, encourage, and be willing to respond to questions such as "Who is a Sister of Mercy?--a Jesuit?--a Benedictine?" Responses to these questions ought to be common knowledge within the church, and religious orders bear special responsibility not only for answering the ques-tions, but for encouraging such queries. Correlative questions are "Who is Catherine McAuley?--St. Ignatius?--Elizabeth Seton?" and "What does it mean to say this is a Jesuit institution?--a Charity hos-pital?" If religious orders recognize the need for these charisms to inspire our future church, then edu-cation about them must become as routine and ordinary as education in computer skills has become in our parishes, hospitals, schools, and social service agencies. Historically, education of chil-dren was the premiere work of religious orders in the United States. Today, the work of education in faith is much more com-plex and more urgent than it was when the Baltimore catechism flourished and the parish was a primary agent of socialization. If historian Patricia Bryne is correct in naming the dual challenge confronting church education in the United States today as the assimilation of Vatican II (which implies a criticism of the cul-ture) and the construction of a religious identity not linked to cultural separatisms,~7 religious orders might reflect upon how they have assimilated Vatican II and constructed a religious iden-tity not linked to the cloister, a form of cultural separatism. Religious orders met this challenge in general by focusing on If we considered the power of the charisms inspiring religious orders important to the church, we would educate those within the church about them. November-December 1994 857 Stevens ¯ Revitalizing Cbarisms Inspiring Religious Life their founding charisms and considering how to adapt them to the signs of the times. It is the power and blessing of the charisms that transformed religious orders; perhaps their power and bless-ing can continue to transform our church. Our society needs the good works of religious orders, their efforts in health care, education, and social services. The church needs the charisms of these communities. Unfortunately, the legacy of the necessary adaptation of the charisms to the signs of the times is their present invisibility within the church.18 These charisms if known, celebrated, and claimed by those thrice-vowed and allowed to be engaged by those other than the thrice-vowed, are the key to the continued renewal of the church. Their power should not be underestimated, nor should the responsibility of the religious orders for their continuance be neglected. Notes * "Decree on the Up-To-Date Renewal of Religious Life," #2. All Vatican II quotations are from Abbott, Walter M. (ed.), The Documents of Vatican H (New York: America Press, 1966). 2 "The Constitution on the Church," #12b. 3 Canon 204, 1. see James A. Coriden et al (eds.), The Code of Canon Law: A Text and Commentary (New Jersey: Paulist Press, 1985). 4 See in particular Helen Rose Fuchs Ebaugh! Women in the Vanishing Clo

Issue 48.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1989. ; R~,vw:w voR R~:I,~cIous (ISSN 0034-639X) is published hi-monthly at St. Louis University by the Mis-souri Province Eduealional Inslilule of the Society of Jesus; Editorial Office; 3601 Lindell Blvd., Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid al St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.00. Subscriptions: $12.00 per year; $22.00 for two years. Other countries: for surface mail, add U.S. $5.00 per year; for airmail, add U.S. $20.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write: Ri~v~i~w t:oR R~:,ucous; P.O. Box 6070; Dululh, MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to R~:v~:w voR R~:,.~(aot;s; P.O. Box 6070; Dululh, MN 55806. David L. Fleming, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard .A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editors JulylAugust 1989 Volume 48 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv:v~:w voa R~:u{:lot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Rich-ard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709-1193. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R~:v,v:w vo~ R~:uctous; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service fl~r the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society fl~r the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. PRISMS . Religious life in no way merits the descriptive word dull. Currently conferences, workshops, and books deal with the theme of "refounding religious life." Another approach looks more towards a "creating of re-ligious life," often with the addition of "for the 21st century." Along with the recent publication of Pope John Paul II's letter to the United States bishops responding to the findings of the 1983 papal commission study of religious life in this country, we find ourselves confronted with various challenges which indicate that religious life remains a valuable concern not only for those who are dedicated to this special form of Chris-tian living, but also for those who support it and are the collaborators and recipients of its service. Religious life takes on its many different forms as a response by those people to God's call to point the way in bridging anew the gap be-tween the lived values of Gospel and culture. Any particular grouping of religious challenge the rest of the Church peoples (including other re-ligious) to a continuing conversion call in one or other aspect of their Christian living. Religious frequently make uncomfortable the govern-ing and teaching authority as well as their own benefactors and friends by their witness and service in those very areas where the Church may b~ slipping into more secular values and ways of acting than gospel val-ues and gospel acting. It is not surprising that religious have been in the forefront of the liberation theology and base-community movement in Latin America. The charism or grac~ which identifies the special call to a particular religious grouping often attracts some kind of participation by both di-ocesan priests and laity. The Third Orders of some of the older religious institutes and the sodalities of some of the more modern apostolic oiders are examples of a long-standing tradition of affiliation. Today there are many more questions about various ways of belonging within the relig-ious grouping--often referred to as "memberships" in the religious fam-ily. Sister Maryanne Stevens, R.S.M., raises some of these issues in her article, "The Shifting Order of Religious Life in Our Church." We are still in the early stages of this new focusing of collaboration in life and in ministry, and there are difficulties and obscurities still to be resolved. We will continue to find it necessary to clarify the identity and responsi-bilities for members dedicated in a specially graced form of life from 481 41~2 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 other parties with different vocations and yet somehow drawn by grace to a similar model of discipleship. As part of the special spiritual legacy which monastic life, particu-larly in its more contemplative form, has been to the Church, this spe-cial form of religious life may have its own contribution to offer in terms of ecumenical efforts. Fr. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., opens up some possible ways of considering this question in his article, "Monasticism: A Place of Deeper Unity~" The AIDS crisis predictably draws forth a religious life response since it presents a special need calling for a gospel ministry. Robert Sirico, C.S.P., calls us to reflect upon our own reactions of fear and stigma concerning those with AIDS .within our own religio.us groupings as well as those AIDS patients whom we intend to serve. The issue of confidentiality is a particularly sensitive point both in our religious com-munity life and in our ministry. His article, "An Improbable Fiction?: Religious Life Confronts the AIDS Crisis," was originally printed in the October 1988 In-formation, the bulletin of the Religious Formation Con-ference. Re!igious life, with all its graced attempts to respon~l to gaps between the Gospel and culture, today finds itself, along with the wider Church and with the contemporary world, caught in the gap itself. As a result, the questions and issues will necessarily have only tentative and at-tempted responses while the Church and our world remain in this in-between time. Reflecting this kind of ongoing response, in FORUM we publish two recent letters from Father Stephen Tutas, S.Mo, president of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men, to its members. All of us continue to need prisms through which we might more quickly catch the movements and fleeting images of God's grace alive in our everyday religious life world. Each time we come to see a new aspect or see in new ways, we face the personal challenge of reinte-grating the truth of our lives, our relationships, and our work. May some of our writers in the articles in this issue be those prisms for us. David L. Fleming, S.J. Reproducing the Pattern of His Death John McKinnon, S.T.D. Father John McKinnon is a priest of the Diocese of Ballarat in Victoria, Australia where he is currently the Vicar for Religious. He works extensively with the various Ministry to Priests Programs and has played a pioneering role in the development of lay spirituality in Australia. His address is the Center for Human Development; 24 Custance St.; Farrer, A.C.T. 2607; Australia. ]n speaking about spirituality, I think that we Often tend to focus immedi-ately on the various ways by which we may seek to foster it--prayer, reflective ministry, and so forth--rather than on what it is we are seek-ing. Spirituality to me speaks of the way we look at life and respond to it. It is the assessment and response that we draw from the level of our own spirit, from that inner point of our self, that is closest to God. It is made up of the values, beliefs, convictions, insights, and so forth, ab-sorbed and developed over the years, which enable us to give meaning and pattern to the myriad experiences of life, and on which we base our deliberate choices. Basic Attitudes for Christian Spirituality For us as Christians these values, beliefs, convictions, and so forth are powerfully affected by our faith in tl~e person of Jesus and our'con-tact with him. This faith in Jesus and contact with him need to be per-sonalized and deepened through time spent intimately with him in prayer. The truth of any person is leai'nt most deeply only by opening to that per-son in love. Friendship is built on time spent together; it is expressed and nourished in devoted action. And it seems to me that both are equally indispensable. In his Epistle to the Philippians, in a very intimate and personally revealing passage, Paul writes about himself: 483 tlS~l / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 All I want is to know Christ and the power of his resurrection and to share his sufferings by reproducing the pattern of his death. In this way I can hope to take my place in the resurrection of the dead (Ph 3:10- ~). In writing this he was merely outlining his own response to the invi-tation of Jesus, recorded in Mark's gospel: "If anyone wants to be a fol-lower of mine, let him renounce himself and take up his cross and fol-low me" (Mk 8:34). Paul wanted to follow Jesus into the triumph of his resurrection, but he clearly realized that following Jesus meant firstly shar-ing his sufferings by reproducing the pattern of his death. The motivation for Paul's choice to follow Jesus was based on his knowledge of Jesus. Knowledge. in the Hebrew mind was not an aca-demic "knowledge about," but an enfleshed knowledge made possible only by love. I would think that only in this "love-knowledge" rela-tionship could any of us find the inspiration to face life as Jesus faced death, and to run the risk of "losing our life in order to find it," sus-tained only by trust in Jesus and the subtle intuition that in that way we might in fact find our life and live it to the full. Paul's comment in Philippians 3:10-11 seems to sum up for me the essential features of any disciple's looking at life and responding to it. It sums up the authentic Christian spirituality. Indeed, the pattern of Je-sus' death reveals the deepest dimensions of Jesus' own spirituality. I presume that Paul was not a masochist, and that Jesus was not in-viting his disciples to suicide. Jesus loved life. There is a sense in which we can say that in his moments of dying Jesus was never more truly alive and, indeed, living life to the full, at a depth and with an intensity that he had never had to muster before. The conclusion drawn by the centu-rion in Mark's gospel, who had known Jesus only in his dying moments, is also very revealing. Mark writes: The centurion, who was standing in front of him, had seen how he had died, and he said, 'In truth this man was a son of God'(Mk 15:39). In wanting to reproduce the pattern of Jesus' death, Paul was paradoxi-cally expressing his own desire to live life to the full. The Source of Salvation The Epistle to the Hebrews (5:9) says that Jesus "became for all who obey him the source of eternal salvation." We open ourselves to salvation as we in turn obey Jesus, as we attune our hearts to his, and through his to the Father's. It becomes ours, therefore, as we plumb the Reproducing the Pattern of His Death truth, as we accept the dignity and worth of every other human person, and as we commit ourselves to that dignity totally. That is why St. Paul dan write in his Epistle to the Philippians that he wants "to reproduce the pattern of Jesus' death." He sees that sim-ply as the way to become fully alive, and eventually "to take his place (with Jesus) in the resurrection from the dead." To obey Jesus and to find salvation mean to reproduce the pattern of his death, or, as the gos-pels put it, to take up our cross and to'follow him. What does this involve, then, for us? It means that we commit ourselves, too, to the vision and the priori-ties of Jesus; that, like Jesus, we let life touch us; that we respond to these temptations in the same way that Jesus responded to his. Our spiri-tuality is to be modeled on the spirituality of Jesus, on his values, be-liefs, and resources. Sharing His Sufferings No one can,be protected from the vicissitudes .of life. We do, how-ever, have some control over the nature of the inner suffering consequent upon these vicissitudes. In the face of the evil of the world we can choose our response. W.e can choose the inner suffering of absurdity and despair, of the sterile meaninglessness of a world without God, of the superficial and unsatisfying logic of the short-term, of the poisoning and paralyzing choice of bitterness and the refusal to forgive. We can face life with no hope and look on everyone as beyond redemption and on the world as condemned to an unchanging sameness. The other alternative is to taste the suffering involved in living the consequences of our own integrity with its seeming powerlessness; the feelings of irrelevance and nonserise involved in trusting a God who, we believe, makes sense of the meaningless sometimes only in the long-term; the dying-to-self ,involved in forgiving and the price of the perse-verance involved in pouring oneself out for others, trusting against hope that they may one day change and be converted. When St. Paul prayed to share the sufferings of Jesus, he was pray-ing that his sufferings would be those involved in the second alternative. Those were the sufferings of the dying Jesus. Those sufferings were the way to life. Context of Commitment It is the context of our life that gives flesh to the living out of our spirituality. I would like briefly to allude to a few consequences of this 4~16 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 spirituality of Christ as it touches the lives of all involved in active min-istry, priests, religious and laity. To some extent we can shield ourselves from the difficulties of life by choosing not to love. That, however, would be to betray our call to discipleship. The source of Jesus' experience of failure was his commit-ment to love. Luke makes this point quite clearly in his final prelude to the public life of Jesus, the meeting at Nazareth of Jesus and his fellow townspeople. There Jesus declared his manifesto in the words of Isaiah: The spirit of the Lord has been giv~en to me, for he has anointed me. He has sent me to bring the good news to the poor, to proclaim liberty to captives, and to the blind new sight, to set the downtrodden free, to proclaim the Lord's year of favor (Lk 4:18); and it was there that he was violently rejected by the former companions of his childhood. The starting point of our imitation of Christ is a~commitment to depth in ourselves and to share with others the wonderful good news of God's love for all, and consequently to allow our own liberation to grow, to share in the liberation of others, and to work together for justice and free-dom for them. The Call 1. Being Authentic The choice to be authentic means firstly that, like Jesus, we accept and respect both the wonderful dignity of our human nature and at the same time its limitations. It means that we accept the' fact that to be human is to grow. To re-fuse to grqw is to be untrue to the thirst for life and fullness imprinted on our nature by our creating Father. But growth is painful. It is some-times easier to refuse to grow and to change, to opt instead for the fa-miliar and the unchallenging, even to obstruct and to attack change both in ourselves and in the institutions that we make up. Integrity means that we make peace with gradualness and that we re-spect the laws of sequential growth in ourselves and in others. It means that we accept the need for performance and ambition in the establish-ing of our own sense of identity, and it equally means that we be pre-pared to relinquish in time our reliance on performance in order to sur- Reproducing the Pattern of His Death / 487 render to the risk of intimacy, of forgiveness, and of grace. Eventually it means that we move to the even broader task of universal love and of generativity. Each of these transitions can be painful, and the tempta-tions to stay as we are, to secure our own comfort and peace, are strong. We do so, however, at the price of our integrity and the call of our cre-ating and redeeming God who sent. Jesus that we might live life to the full. Being authentically human means that we need to make peace even with our weakness. We have some strengths, but we do not have them all. What we admire in others is often beyond our own reach, and vice versa. We cannot do everything. None of us is "superman." We live, for example, in a day that has only twenty-four hours and not twenty-eight. We are not called to do whatever is good, but to discern what God is asking of us, to do no more than that, and to surrender the rest. Jesus had to choose between consolidating where he was, or going "to the neighboring country towns, so that I can preach there, too" (Mk 1:38)-- he could not do both. With time the very process of aging brings us in touch With new weakness and limitation. Eventually we have to make peace even with our sin. At the price of our sense of self-reliance we have to surrender to the need for forgive-ness and of mercy. In doing so we find our true dignity, and learn to re-spect ourselves because we are loved by God. A further consequence of the choice for discipleship is that we com-mit ourselves to follow our own duly informed and educated conscience. Jesus allowed himself to be led by the Spirit. It is so easy to avoid fac-ing truth and its .consequences and to persuade ourselves that what we are really doing from fear of the opinion of others or from a concern for our own comfort is being done for the sake of pastoral flexibility or main-taining peace or some other equally inadequate.excuse. And yet, at the same time, we also have to recognize that often we are not sure what our conscience is asking of us, and we have to live in uncertainty. Basically the commitment we make to ministry is a commitment to love. We know that love is the only kind of power that can ultimately give life and bring freedom. The commitment to love immediately rules out the possibility of using other kinds of power, all other kinds of power, even ostensibly for the good of people. It applies across'the board, within the Church as well as in the broader world outside. It pre-cludes manipulation, coercion, persuasion. It is notoriously ineffective. It raises whole issues of the interrelationship of institution and individ-ual person, because institutions made up of imperfectly converted and 41~1~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 motivated people necessarily require some kind ofsanctions. It requires clear perceptions of priorities; and the constant readiness to change and to repent, because our ongoing experience and reflection reveal that we do not consistently discernpriorities clearly and choose appropriately. The commitment to love also involves a commitment to non-violence (which is not the same as non-resistance to evil). It is the un-willingness to counter violence with violence; it is the choice to over-whelm evil with love, rather, than to double it by retaliating. Non-violent resistance sometimes calls for total self-sacrifice; more often it means apparent ineffectiveness. There are plenty of champions of jus-tice who are prepared to seek it~with violence. That was not Jesus' way. His non-violence made him unpopular, no. doubt, to the Zealots, the "ur-ban guerillas" of his day; it makes his followers equally unpopular in our day. It is~also ineffective. It ensured the inevitability of Jesus' arrest when he was apprehended in Gethsemane, but also elicited his strict cen-sure there of the violent response of one of his followers (Mt 26:52-54). It makes sense only in a world where God is the basis of meaning. It means that we may have to leave free, to go their own way, even to walk into disaster, those whom we love or for whom we have respon-sibility. That was the experience of Jesus. He had to let his ow.n special friends, hi's own diSciples, walk unheedingly into unfaith. He could not, and would not ev.en if he could, live their lives for them. He could not, would not, make their decisions for them. He had to let them_, grow up. Handing them over into the loving hands of his Father did not help all that much. He had learnt the requirements of love precisely from that same Father. As far as the Gospels are concerned, Judas did not come back. On the other hand, the Peter whom he had to leave to walk into utter perplexity and loss of faith did grow up and was a wiser and greater man. We follow the same paths as Jesus. The choice to love makes us notoriously vulnerable. Where our way of life is one that involves our working closely with others, an option for love may mean at times all the pain and frustration of working for consensus. The democratic vote can sometimes simply mean the coercive imposition on the minority of the will of the major-ity. At times it may be appropriate. Often it is not. An honest commit-ment to consensus will mean for many the readiness to devote the time and effort needed to develop the necessary skills of listening, assertion, and negotiation. We need to face the temptation to ineffectiveness, at times even to irrelevance, the jibes of naivete and so forth, and, like Jesus, explore the Reproducing the Pattern of His Death depth of our own authenticity, listen to his heart and to the heart of our creating Father. We need to listen to our own hearts, and somehow trust that integrity, truth, and love make sense, the only sense, and that our God is a God of the long-term, and not of efficient and immediate re-sults. 2. Forgiving We are familiar with the temptations to bitterness and to unforgi-veness. Not only is our world polarized; in some ways, too, our Church is also. Forgiveness is a decision. It is a decision that has consequences. When we decide to forgive, we surrender our right to use the memory of the wrongs again, either for our own self-pity or to store up and accu-mulate them in order to attack again whoever has hurt us. In a situation of ongoing disagreement or.difference, forgiveness in-volves a commitment to seek whatever common ground there is and to work for reconciliation and even at times for consensus. It involves the need to move beyond the words or the positions we may have adopted to listen to our own hearts and to the hearts of those with whom we dis-agree. It is a consequence of choosing the spirituality of Jesus. It leads to life and to peace, but it has its price. ~Forgiveness can seem like the surrender of our own dignity and self-respect, or of our loyalty to our friends and respect for them. 3. Committed . Perhaps our greatest temptation is to lose hope in people. We get hurt through life. We lose o~ur enthusiasm, even our courage. We try some things and our efforts are rejected. We know the temptation to cut our losses: we do our job; we do what is expected of us. But we lose our com-mitment, and we do little or no more than seems necessary. It is difficult to keep pouring out our lives, to keep working enthusi-astically or to try to introduce innovations only to be met with little or no response. It is easier to settle down, to look after ourselves, to make life comfortable to lose hope. But to lose hope is tochoose against life. Jesus faced blankness, in-difference, rejection, mockery, and blasphemy. In the face of that he chose to pour out his life "for the many." He knew the temptation, but he also listened to his own depths and to the heart of his Father. He died still hoping against hope in people. And for many his hope and his com-mitment bore fruit. There is in the depths of every human person an open-ing towards truth and a connaturality with love. Jesus believed that. He saw it in himself. He wanted to set it free in everyone. He would never 490/Review for Religious, July-August 1989 give up hope in people's changing and being converted; he would go to death for the sake of that hope. A truly Christ-based spirituality calls for a commitment in 'hope to people. The Outcome Our active ministry and lifestyle, therefore, whether we be priests, religious or laity, present us with infinitely nuanced temptations tO,work other than in love--to compi:omise and to find our way around our con-sciences, to choose :power in one or other of its many forms, to lose pa-tience with the apparent ineffectiveness of non-violence and love, to avoid the risk of intimacy and to settle instead for subst.itutes. We lose confidence in our God who gives meaning, sometimes too late and only beyond the grave, to our striving, for integrity and authenticity, and we prefer more tangible results and accountable successes, even at the price of what we know we are really called to be. We know we can give lip- ~service to forgiveness but not have the energy.to follow up its conse-quences. We feel the enticing attraction to settle down, to make life com-fortable, to. be "realistic." It is by facing these temptations, recognizing them and naming them, and then by choosing instead to be authentic, to trust, to forgive, and to hope that we work out our salvation and come to savor that life in abun-dance that Jesus wishes to share with us. As we respond to life as Jesus did, we know his peace and his joy, and we get in touch with the "blessedness" he spoke about in the be-atitudes. There is ai~ irrepressible quality to these experiences. We do not have to force 6urseives to find them. They come of themselves. They do not depend on circumstances beyond our control, and require no "fly-ing- carpet" ride through life. Like Jesus who could thank his Father even on the night he was betrayed, like Paul who could write: ". as the sufferings of Christ overflow to us, so, through Christ, does our conso-lation overflow" (2 Co 1:5), we, too, find the unexpected presence and power of peace and joy within us. Even in the very moments of our "re-producing the pattern of his death," we "know Christ and the power of his resurrection" (Ph 3: 10). It might seem to be paradox, but our ex-perience knows it to be truth. The victory that Jesus has won over evil, and in Which we share, is not a victory in which everything has been done already for us. The vic-tory won for us by Jesus means that we now have within us the resources to face whatever comes and to. triumph in love. It is a victory in which we actively participate, and through-which, precisely by our own par- Reproducing the Pattern of His Death / 491 ticipation, we ourselves become more fully alive and more authentically human. No one can do that for us, not even Jesus. But he does do it with us as we allow his Spirit scope to breathe within us. Mission to the World A~ccording tO John's gospel, on the night of his resurrection Jesus ap-peared,~ to his disciples and commissioned them to do what he had done: As the Father sent me, so I am sending you (Jn 20:21). Jesus had been sent to engage with evil and to overwhelm it with truth ~r~ love. He showed the way to us. The Epistle to the Hebrews writes: As it was his purpose to bring a great many of his sons into glory, it was appropriate that God . . . should make perfect, through suffering, the leader who would take them to their salvation (Heb 2: 10). The same Epistle consequently recommends: Let us not lose sight of Jesus, who leads us in our faith and brings it t6 perf6ction (Heb 12:2i. We follow the path that Jesus has trodden. He has commissioned us to show the same way, to others. That is our mission: we show the way, and we show it by living it ourselves. We cannot live the lives of others for them, any more than Jesus could live ours. But we can show them and, by our love, we can empower them, as Jesus has done with us. Though we might all feel embarrassed to say so, really our mission to others must be summed up in the words of St. Paul, "My brothers, be united in following my rule of life" (Ph 3:i7), or, more succinctly, "Take me for your model, as I take Christ" (1 Co I1:1). Like Peter we would all like to follow in the footsteps of a popularly acclaimed and universally accepted Christ. But there is no such Christ. Like the two sons of Zebedee, we would like to share in a victory where struggle is not necessary. But there is no such victory. Jesus has won the victory, but it was won on the wood of the cross. We share in his vic-tory, but we do it as we drink his cup and are baptized with his baptism (see Mk 10:35-40). As with the mission of Jesus, so, too, then, with our own: the suc-cess of our ministry will be counted not by the numbers of those who may listen to us or cooperated in our projects but in the ones who are encouraged by our example and empowered by our love to engage with the evil in their own breasts and meet it in love. It will be found in those 492 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 who allow the failures of their lives and of their relationships and the .fail-ure of their projects to touch them, and who feel the consequences of those failures, but choose, whether wearily or resolutely, to continue to reach out lovingly in trust, in forgiveness, and in hope. Jesus' message really is one of love, of peace, ofjgy, and of happi-ness- but not as the world understands and gives them. His message is one of victory, but of victory through the Cross, even for his followers. They have to engage with life and they have to let life touch them. It will hurt, not because God wants it that way, but because of the sin of the world and the mutual destructiveness in which it takes shape. This sin of the world can be overwhelmed. Jesus has made it possible. But where it touches people, there people have to engage with it. Conclusion A truly Christian spirituality is one that responds to life as Jesus did. That is the only Christian spirituality. "All I want is to know Christ, and the power of his resurrection, and to share his suffering by repro-ducing the pattern of his death. In this way I can hope to take my place in the resurrection of the dead." As we treasure our experience and pon-der it in our hearts, as Mary did, I believe that our pondering can fruit-fully be done only by relating it to the pattern of his death. Other values and~insights will modify many forms of this basic Chris-tian spirituality; various lifestyles will determine the concrete shapes that it takes; and wisdom and experience will dictatehow best to ponder and to get in touch with those spiritual depths of Jesus. But all must be based firmly on him or they will fall short of salvation. And he wants so much that we share hig experience of life and taste that life "to the full!" Work and Leisure: Our Judeo- Christian Foundations Melannie. Svoboda, S.N.D. Sister Melannie Svoboda, S.N.D., is currently dividing her time between teaching and writing. She recently completed six years as novice director. Her address is Notre Dame Academy; Route one, Box 197; Middleburg, Virginia 22117. Recently I was asked to give a workshop on leisure and spirituality. As part of my research, I looked in the Reader's Guide to Catholic Periodi-cals to see what already had been written on the topic within the past few years. When I looked up the word leisure I was surprised to find very few articles listed under it, but I noticed, there were many articles under Lent. I looked up the word play and found even fewer articles under play, but there were many under Plato, and planned parenthood. Next I tried the word celebration. I found several articles under celebration but many more under celibacy, cemeteries, and censorship. Finally, I looked up the word fun. I found no :articles under fun, but plenty under fund raising, fundamentalism,, and funerals. This experience made me realize how little has been written on the topic of leisure and other related topics which, I feel, are fundamental to our Christian faith. This article will discuss the Judeo-Christian un-derstanding of leisure. It will begin with an exploration of the biblical understanding of the nature of work. Then it will look at the tradition of the Sabbath, the great 'leisure day,' and show how a balancing of work and leisure is essential to a healthy Christian spirituality. Let us turn first to the book of Genesis. What does Genesis tell us about work? It tells us many things. First, it says something extremely significant: God works. This concept of, a working God was something of an oddity among the peoples of that time period. Many other civiliza- 493 494 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 tions envisioned their gods as beings who did not work. Their gods lei-surely romped around on mountain tops or lay around sleeping all day. But the Hebrews, based on their unique experience of God, saw their God differently. At the beginning of Genesis they posted a large orange sign with big black letters on it: Go~)AT WORK. But Genesis tells us something even more revelatory than the fact that God works. It tells us why God works. He works not because he has to work; he works because he wants to work. His work, creation, is not for his sake; his work is for others' sake, for humankind's sake, for our sake. In Genesis, God chooses to work because he chooses to share some-thing of himself with someone else. So already in the opening pages of Scripture, work is seen as being intimately associated with the act of self-giving-- a self-giving for the benefit of others. A third thing we notice in the creation narrative is how God works. He seems to enjoy it! God is not portrayed as someone who hates his job or finds it mere drudgery. We do not see God complaining, for exam-ple, at the beginning of the fourth day, "Darn it! Today l've got to make those stupid birds! I'll never get them to fly--I just know it!" On the con-trary, God takes delight in the work process, pronouncing creation, the product of his labors, as "good" at the end of each day. In Genesis, we also notice that leisure or rest is an integral part of the work process. God rests not merely on the last day; he rests, he takes "time off," between each day of creation. The ending of each day brings closure to that particular day's activity. The seventh day, the Sab-bath, is just a longer rest period--an entire day of complete rest. But throughout his work, God has been taking other rests--"mini-Sab-baths"-- all along, Rest or leisure is part and parcel of the work proc-ess. Leisure, like work, must be good if God himself does it. In the creation account, Adam, like God, works. "The Lord then took the man and settled him in the garden of Eden, to cultivate and care for it" (Gn 2:15). Work is not a punishment for Adam's sin. It is one of the ways Adam is made in the image of God, A working God means a working Adam. Adam's work is a sharing in the creative activity of God. Adam's work, like God's work, consists primarily in cultivation and care. But something happens to work after the Fal!: Adam sweats and Eve had labor pains. Genesis 'seems to be saying that after their act of dis-obedience, Adam and Eve suffered some serious consequences. All work--whether bringing forth new I.ife through farming or giving birth-- would now necessarily involve fatigue, frustration, and pain. Work and Leisure / 495 In summary, then, Genesis presents some fundamental attitudes to-ward work. Work is .good--even God works. Work is an act of self-giving directed toward the good of others. It consists primarily in culti-vation and care, in the bringing forth of new life. Work should basically be a joyful activity even though it often entails fatigue and pain. Rest or leisure is good, too. It is somehow integral to the work process. Altfiough Genesis beautifully describes work and leisure, it is in Exo-dus and Deuteronomy that we learn more precisely where leisure comes from and, more importantly, what leisure is for. For the Israelites, the concept of leisure is identified with the tradi-tion of the Sabbath. This tradition is expressed explicitly in the fourth commandment: "Remember to keep holy the Sabbath Day" (Ex 20:8). The key phrase in that commandment is "keep hol~,." What exactly does "keep holy" mean? The remainder of that commandment explains what it means: "Six days you may labor and do all your work,, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord, your God" (Ex 20:9-10). The implication is that to "keep holy" means "not t.o work." But wl~y were the Israelites directed not to work on the Sabbath? The reason is found in Deuteronomy's version of the fourth command-ment. This version adds the following: Remember that you were a servant in the land of Egypt and that the Lord your God brought you out from there with a mighty hand and out-stretched arm; because of this, the Lord God has commanded you to keep the Sabbath (Dt 5:15). The reason for not working is found in the words "because of this." What does the "this" refer to? It refers to the exodus--the great work of Yahweh. In other words, the Israelites were directed not to work on the Sabbath in order to take time to remember their deliverance from bond-age in Egypt by a powerful yet loving God. In his book, Confessions of a Workaholic, Wayne Oates says that the chief motive for keeping the Sabbath was gratitude to God. It is not fear of God, nor the need to hew the line of ritualistic practice. Rather it is the motive of gratitude for deliverance from slavery, grati-tude for the gift ~f freedom. ~ But the Israelites were to do more than to set aside a day on which to thank God for their freedom--as important as that is. They were to express their gratitude to God by the way they used their precious gift of freedom during all the days of the week. Just as God had used his free-dom to free the Israelites from slavery, so, too, were they to use their 496 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 freedom to free others from slavery--the slavery of ignorance, poverty, hunger, ill health, fear, old age or whatever form that slavery took. In his book, Flowers in the Desert, Demetrius Dumm, O.S.B., has written a beautiful section on the Ten Commandments. His treatment of the fourth commandment is especially relevant here. He sees the fourth commandment as a "transitional commandment"--one that comes af-ter the three commandments that are concerned with the Israelites' rela-tionship with God and one that comes before those six which govern the Israelites' relationship~with each other. The first three commandments called the Israelites to affirm the mystery of God, writes Dumm. They called the Israelites to trust in God's basic goodness, to see him not only .as powerful but as loving. The last six commandments direct the Israel-ites to affirm that same divine mystery present in every human being by the fact that he or she is created by God. Durum writes: Every creature deserves, therefore, to be respected because of its share of divine mystery. One of the most powerful tendencies of man is to eliminate mystery in his life because it cannot be controlled and thus seems threatening to him. The most natural way for man to control the mystery in :creation is through his labor. The Sabbath commandment or-ders the Israelite to interrupt his labor every seventh day as a reminder that that labor is intended by God to release the mystery in life and not crush it.2 What does all of this have to do with me personally and with my Christian faith? Maybe we can answer that question by taking a few "lei-sure moments" to reflect on these questions. What is my. attitude toward my work? Do I see it as a way of self-giving for the benefit of others, or do I view it as a drudgery or, worse yet, asia punishment? Is my work a way of earning God's love, or is it an expression of gratitude for God who loves me already? Is my work a way of serving others, or has it become my sole means of earning the esteem and respect of others? How is my work helping to free others from slavery--no matter what form that slavery might be? In my work, do I respect the divine mystery in creation and people, or is my work an attempt to control or manipulate creation and people? Have I become a slave to my work, or am I free to let go of it at times? Can I, for example, freely walk away from my work when lei-sure calls me to praye~, to relaxation, or to sleep? Have I learned the art of bringing each day.to a close, entrusting the fruits of my labor to the Lord? Do I set aside regular.time for leisure--for "mini-Sabbaths" and for longer ones? Do I use this "wasted time" to remember God's deliv- Work and Leisure / 497 erance.of me from sin, to reflect on his goodness to me, and to thank and praise him for his power and love? Can I just be with God or must I always be doing for him? Do I find the Lord both in my work and in my leisure? Do I take time to be with others, to enjoy their company, to play with them, to appreci-ate the divine mystery present in them? Or is the only time I am with others when I am working with them or for them? In conclusion, then, we have seen how a healthy balancing of work and leisure is essential for our Christian faith. In his article, "The Spiri-tual Value of Leisure," Leonard Doohan explains how work and leisure manifest our faith in God. Unlike those who profess some religions, we claim to believe that God is near to us, in us, in others, in the wonders of the world. Only in lei-sure dowe prove this belief by giving time to developing attitudes nec-essary to meet him. We also believe we can experience God personally and in community, but does our faith show this to others in the life we live? Are we "working" tourists who look at everything and see noth-ing, or do we pause, appreciate, wonder, and praise God who, we be-lieve, reveals himself in creation? It is not by work that we earn salva-tion, but in leisure that we appreciate that it is gift. Leisure is the cor-rective that puts work in perspective and shows forth our faith.3 NOTES ~ Wayne E. Oates, .Confessions of a Workaholic: The Facts about Work Addiction (Nashville: Abingdon, 1971), p. 35. 2 Demetrius Dumm, O.S.B., Flowers in the Desert: A Spirituality of the Bible (New York: Paulist, 1987), pp. 14-15. 3 Leonard Do6han, "The Spiritual Value of Leisure," Spirituality Today, 31 (June 1979), p. 164, Positive Wellness: Horizon for Religious Experience Jerome A. Cusumano, S.J. Father Jerry Cusumano, S.J., is a member of the Japanese Province of the Society of Jesus. He is currently engaged in studies at Arizona State University. His address is B:'ophy College Prep; 4701 N. Central: Phoenix, Arizona 85012. In this article I show how the integrated approach to health as exemplified in the holistic health movement can serve as a vehicle for opening a per-son's consciousness to the religious dimension of life. Since the goal of holistic health is "positive wellness," it is meant for those in good health who wish to achieve even better health, those who, in other words, are no longer focused on the negative problems of health such as giving up smoking, controlling drinking, losing weight, and so on. Holistic health encompasses at least the following four dimeffsions: nu-trition, exercise, awareness, and lifestyle. Since numerous self-help books as well as much scholarly research have more than adequately ex-plicated what is essential to each particular dimension, I do not intend to repeat here what has been better said elsewhere. However, I will briefly summarize what seems to be generally accepted in each area in order to establish a basis for the reflections which follow. 1 will treat the four basic factors in ascending order of importance. Nutrition Quantitatively, one should systematically "under-eat" in such a way as to maintain his body weight at the level it was when physical growth was completed, usually about the age of twenty. Qualitatively, one's diet should be based primarily on whole grains, raw vegetables, and fresh fruit. The diet should be, in yogic terms, sattvic, that is, nei- 498 Positive Wellness / 499 ther making the body sluggish nor stimulating it, but rather leaving it en-ergized and calm at the same time. Since one needs energy for exercise and calmness for awareness, a sattvic diet disposes the body properly for the next two dimensions of holistic health. Exercise Good food will not be adequately assimilated if the blood and oxy-gen circulation of the body are poor; conversely, a body kept in good condition will be healthy even on a poorer diet. Thus exercise is more important than nutrition for positive wellness. One needs to do some form of stretching exercises every day in order to maintain flexibility and alignment in the musculo-skeletal frame. What is gained during exercise times should be maintained at other times by sitting and standing in pos-tures which keep the shoulders and pelvis in line and the back straight. One also needs some form of daily aerobic exercise done for at least twenty minutes a session in order to revitalize and refresh the cardiovas-cular and respiratory systems by increasing the oxygen supply in the blood. The amount of time one devotes to exercise serves as a good gauge of one's desire for positive wellness. Nevertheless, even exercise is of less importance for positive wellness than the next dimension, aware-heSS. Awareness A period of at least twenty minutes a day should be devoted to some method of systematic awareness in the form of relaxation or meditation. The possibilities range over the spectrum from Feldenkrais's body aware-ness exercises or Jacobson's progressive relaxation method done in the prone, position, through the measured movements of Tai Chi done stand, ing and walking, to the one-pointed focusing of zazen or yoga done in the more demanding postures such as the full lotus. ~ Turning one's con-scious powers in on oneself while in slow m6vement and/or remaining still for a good length of time not only revitalizes the conscious mind and relaxes the body, but also provides a place where unconscious material, such as negative emotions, can .surface and be disposed of through aware-ness. While aerobic exercise refreshes one through an expenditure of en-ergy, in awareness one gathers his energy, concentrates it, and so re-charges himself. Furthermore, while it is possible to both eat well and exercise enough, and yet still lead a harried life, this is not possible for one who wishes to practice awareness regularly. The daily period set aside for purposefully quieting both body and mind through awareness presupposes a lifestyle conducive to such an activity. Thus awareness is 500 I Review for Religious, July-August 1989 both the support of and the fruit of an ordered lifestyle which is the fourth and most important dimension for positive wellness. Lifestyle In proportion as a stressful lifestyle has deleterious effects on the physical and psychical organism, so also a relaxed lifestyle is the single most important factor in promoting positive wellness. Such a lifestyle in-cludes a job ohe feels satisfied with and sees as worthwhile, as well as a personal life that has sufficient rest, satisfying human relationships, and some absorbing interests. Requisite to such a lifestyle, however, is a I . clear conception of the purpose of one's life, which serves as an implicit criterion by which one can judge which activities are to be undertaken and which relationsh.ips fostered. With a relaxed lifestyle and a clear pur-pose in life a man may reach a state of positive wellness even though he does not scrupulously follow all the directives with regard to nutri-tion, exercise, and awareness. Actually, a clear grasp of the purpose of one's life gives a meaning to striving for positive wellness. "Maintain-ing good physical and mental health is like preserving two fine instru-ments which can be used to carry out the purpose of life . Thus it is clear that the basis of holistic health lies in one's understanding the purpose of his life and learning how to achieve that purpose."2 Religious Experience The state of positive wellness, achieved and maintained by the inte-grated approach of the holistic health movement as summarized above, can dispose one to be more receptive to the transcendental and religious dimension of life. One becomes accustomed to an habitual state of vigor, energy, and wellness which hecan no longer do without. To use Glas-ser's term, one has developed a positive addiction to health itself. This addiction to positive wellness has its source in the good feelings gener-ated through the "spiritualization" of one's body by the increased vi-tality attained through conscious effort and the "physicalization" of one's mind by the greater calmness achieved through attention to bodily processes. At peak moments this dual action issues into a harmony which Glasser call the PA (positive addiction) state. "In the PA state the mind flows with the body. The two cease completely to be antagonistic to each other and blend into one. The state of positive addiction to health is experienced as a drive from within oneself, but not an instinctual drive such as that for sex, nor as a drive stemming from the force of one's will. One feels that he has tapped into another force which is now pulling him to higher levels of Positive Wellness health. Yoga terminology calls this force the Self as opposed to the self. However, it might just as well be conceived in terms of health itself. The healthier one becomes, the more he makes contact with the body's own innate drive to good health and experiences the power of that drive. He gradually opens his consciousness to the life force within him and allows it to work of itself. The healthier one becomes, the more he can tap into this life force. Paradoxically, this means that one becomes a "spiritual" person not by ignoring the body in the pursuit of higher interest, but rather by infusing the body with spirit, that is, by directing one's consciousness to the health of the body in such a way as to energize it as fully as possible. As a result one becomes a more suitable vehicle to channel the energy of life within himself and to others. "As you continue to develop your channels of energy, you will notice differences in your entire being, and these will likewise be observed by those around you, who also benefit from the increase in energy flow."4 Energizing the body through sustained, systematic daily care of one's health puts one into contact with a Life greater than one's own. It is this Life, more than individual will power, which makes possible the main-tenance of a sane lifestyle and consistent attention to nutrition, exercise, and awareness demanded for positive wellness. For some this may be the first step to recognition of transcendent being. For others it may be a preparation through a new experience of satisfaction from taking respon-sibility for one's life. As Bloomfield says, "There is joy in taking full responsibility for your health and happiness.''5 Children at play, fully alive and vibrant, exemplify the joy he speaks of. Theirs is a joy spring-ing from the flexibility and agility of their bodies as well as from the care-free state of mind in which they live. Paradoxically, Ardell notes, it is only as one grows older that he can fully enjoy youth.6 Conclusion If pursued within the holistic health framework the current quest of many for youthfulness and positive wellness can become the occasion for opening oneself to transcendent and religious experience. For positive wellness makes one aware of the source of Life itself. NOTES ~ M. Feldenkrais, Awareness Through Movement, (New York: Harper and Row, 1972), E. Jacobson, You Must Relax, (London: Unwin Paperbacks, 1980). 2 S. Rama, A Practical Guide to Holistic Health, (Honesdale, Pennsylvania: The 50~. / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 Himalayan Publishers, 1980), p. 13. 3 W. Glasser, Positive Addiction, (New York: Harper and Row, 1976), p. 56. '~ R. Shames, The Gift of Health, (New York: Bantam Books, 1982), p. 140. 5 H. Bloomfield, The Holistic Way to Health and Happiness, (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1978), p. 274. 6 D. Ardell, High Level Wellness, (New York: Bantam Books, 1981), p. 67. Full Circle Morning did come! Rise with the full-day Sun! Work begun. Thy Will be done! Day half-spent, Rest in the noonday Sun! Renewed, refre~shed--run! Day-work, toil done. Daystar, noon, setting Sun. Rest! Be still! Tomorrows come . . . maybe? Glory be! Walter Bunofsky, S.V.D. 1446 E. Warne Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63107 Striving for Spiritual Maturity: Ideals as Obstacles Wilkie Au, S.J. Father Wilkie Au, S.J., has been working in psychological counseling and spiritual direction. He served for six years as novice director for the Jesuit California Prov-ince. He may be addressed at Loyola Marymount College; Jesuit Community; P.O. Box 45041; Los Angeles, California 90045-0041. The metaphor of a journey captures well what most adults come sooner or later to realize about spiritual and psychological growth: it is a never-ending series of changes and struggles. In a word, it is a hard road to travel. It is tied to the ways we respond to the crises of human life. These crises are both predictable and unpredictable. The predictable ones have been outlined in the literature of deve!opmental psychology, which de-picts the pattern of adult growth, not as an undisturbed straight line, but as a zigzag process often full of setbacks and frustrations. The unpre-dictable crises are easily recognized: sudden illnesses, career disappoint-ments, interpersonal misunderstandings, the loneliness of ruptured rela-tionships, the separation of death or divorce. When faced with the strug-gles that are the inescapable conditions of growth, people frequently ask themselves: "Why go on? Why keep trying, if there is no chance of suc-cess? What difference does it make any way?" The frustrations of seem-ingly endless change--new jobs, new residences, new relationships-- force many to question whether it is worth all the effort. These are nei-ther theoretical nor abstract questions. They emerge from the concrete experience of striving to grow in holiness and wholeness. These quan-daries frame the struggle to love as Jesus commanded. An effective spirituality today must strengthen the individual's com-mitment to the ongoing process of sanctification and maturation. It must 503 ~i04/Review for Religious, July-August 1989 do this by reminding us that God is always close by with divine love and power to help us in our struggles. As followers of the risen Christ, we are called to believe that "the power.by which life is sustained and in-vited toward wholeness is no human creation and abides and remains steadfast even in a world where death does have dominion over every individual." ~ As in other human journeys, we reach the destination of our spiri-tual pilgrimage only gradually. However, there is a paradoxical nature to the spiritual sojourn. While alive, we will never fully reach our goal of union with God and others. Yet, being on the spiritual path is already a way of attaining that end. God is to be enjoyed not only at the end of the search, .but all along the way. The Christmas story of the magi illus-trates this truth. God was present to them not only when they joyfully arrived at the cave in Bethlehem, but also in the original stirrings that sent them off in search of the promised Messiah. God's presence was also experienced in a guiding star that directed them through dark nights and in a dream that warned them of Herod's threat. They experienced God's support, too, in the encouragement they gave each other through-out an uncharted search that took them miles from home. God is more present to us than we think. Our search for union with God is life-long, often a strenuous trek punctuated by dark passages. If we are to persevere, we must take cour-age in God's abiding presence all along the way. Even as we are travel-ing towards God as destiny, Emmanuel is already with us in manifold ways. The disciples of Jesus were once given a dramatic lesson about how Christ is ever-present. One day they were crossing the Lake of Gali-lee when a fierce storm enveloped their little boat. Frightened by vio-lent winds, the apostles were stricken with panic. Suddenly, Jesus ap-peared to them walking on the water. He told them, "It is I. Do not be afraid" (Jn 6:21). Jesus then calmed the storm, and the boat quickly came to shore. The significance of Jesus' words is clear when we look at the original text. The Greek has Jesus saying "ego eimi" which liter-ally means "I am." In the Septuagint, the Greek translation of the Old Testament, the phrase "ego eimi" is used as a surrogate for the divine name (Ex 3:14). It is Yahweh's response to Moses' question, "Who shall I say sent me?" In placing these words in Jesus' mouth, John ex-p~' esses the early Church's belief in the divinity of Christ. The good news affirmed in this Johannine passage is identical to that contained in Mat-thew's story of the magi: God is always with us in our journeys through life. This truth must permeate our consciousness, especially when our Striving for Spiritual Maturity / 505 fragile boat is rocked by waves of worry and troublesome torrents. In our fear and confusion, we need to recognize the presence of the risen Jesus drawing near to us to still the storm. Calm will descend on us when we hear Jesus say, "Do not be afraid. It is I." Letting Go of Flawless Images ~The journey metaphor most accurately reflects reality when it is seen as a zigzag pattern i'ather than as an uninterrupted straight line. Human growth is not a process that moves relentlessly ahead in a single direc-tion. It, rather, is a mixture of progressions and regressions. At times, we experience forward movements; on other occasions, slips indicate re-gress; and sometimes, no matter how much effort we expend, we find ourselves at a standstill, seemingly stuck at a developmental plateau. Is this wrong? To the contrary. Accepting the jerky aspect of growth and relinquishing the illusion of a forever smooth-flowing journey is not only necessary but will bring serenity to our striving for maturity. Failures should not produce despair; temporary plateaus need not trigger paraly-sis. The expectation of a flawless journey is counterproductive because it misrepresents the process of developmenta~l growth. It also distorts the truth of what it means to be a human being. A view of the human person which does not acknowledge that sinfulness casts a shadow on every person is unrealistic. Such a notion can also have harmful effects. Our sinful condition renders us radically weak. In an iron'ic way, not to admit to our weakened capacity leads us to a sense of perversity and guilt rather than worthiness and self-acceptance. The refusal "to recognize the persistent ambiguity and the final impotence of our lives tantalizes us with an optimistic promise of self-evolved be-coming," concli~des theologian LeRoy Aden. It also "stands in danger of giving us a sense of failure and despair to the extent that we do not achieve it. ,.,2 Thus, failure to acknowledge the shadow aspect of human personality, diminishes, not enhances, self-esteem. Aden elaborates on the harmful effects of a naively optimistic view of human development in the context of a critique of Carl Rogers, the father of client-centered therapy and a major influence in the field of pas-toral counseling. Aden objects to a basic hypothesis of client-centered therapy: the belief that persons have within themselves the ongoing ca-pacity to reorganize their lives in the direction of maturity and fulfill-ment if the proper psychological climate is present. Concretely,. this hy-pothesis presupposes that if the counselor communicates empathy, warmth, acceptance, and genuineness, a client wil~ naturally begin to manifest behavior that enhances the true self. According to Aden, "Ro- 506 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 gers' faith in the individual's ability to choose the good is absolute. He entertains no qualifications. He allows no doubts.In fact, therapists who begin to question the hypothesis and who shift to another mode of inter-action only confuse the client and defeat their own purpose."3 Roger~ clung tenaciously to his belief in the individual's absolute ca-pacity for constructive and enhancing behavior. Aden recounts an inci-dent in Rogers' life in which he nearly destroyed his own psychic health by maintaining at all cost this article of faith. Rogers once dealt with a very disturbed woman who continually demanded more of him--more time, more warmth, more realness. Although he began to doubt his own adequacy and to lose the boundaries between himself and the client, Ro-gers was very reluctant to let go. Finally, when he realized that he was on the edge of a personal breakdown,he swiftly referred the client to a psychiatric colleague and left town for an extended period. He eventu-ally sought therapy to overcome feelings of complete inadequacy as a therapist and deep worthlessness as a person. According to Aden, this "event shows that Rogers would doubt him-self as a therapist and as a person before he would question his basic faith in the individual.''4 Rogers had provided his disturbed client ~,ith un-derstanding and acceptance over an extended period of time. Neverthe-less, she got progressively more dependent and sicker, bordering on psy-chosis. Her behavior explicitly challenged the very foundation of his the-ory. Thus, it was easier for him to doubt his own worth as a clinician than to reexamine the linchpin of his therapeutic creed. Belief in the in-dividual's indomitable capacity for ongoing growth and actualization had to be maintained at all cost. Forgiveness: The End Point of Life Carl Rogers has made many contributions to pastoral counseling, but his trust in the absolute ability of individuals to grow continually toward fulfillment is a harmful assumption for Christians. It contradicts Christi-anity's deepest insight into the human person as radically good, yet bur-dened by sinfulness. This sinful condition impedes our struggle for growth in holiness and maturity~ It often leads to imperfect fulfillment. Unlike the contemporary tendency to absolutize fulfillment as the basic truth and the final goal of human existence, Christian faith reiterates the good news proclaimed by Christ: forgiveness is the endpoint of human life. Thus faulty fulfillment and incomplete development need not worry those who trust in the forgiving love of God. In thelend, we will fully enjoy the unconditional acceptance of God, not because we are flawless, Striving for Spiritual Maturity / 507 but in spite of our imperfections. Our merciful God's gift of forgiveness means that we "cannot and need not measure up to any conditions of worth."5 When forgiveness, and not fulfillment, is seen as the endpoint of our lives, we can live with greater acceptance of our weaknesses and with greater hope in God's power to complete what grace has started. No longer will the ambiguity of our fulfillment judge us, nor the impo-tence of our efforts condemn us. With St. Paul, we are "quite certain that the One who began this good work" in us "will see that it is fin-ished when the Day of Christ Jesus comes" (Ph 1:6). As Aden states beau-tifully., the promise of ultimate forgiveness "allows us to be incomplete and yet complete, estranged and yet related, distorted and yet fulfilled." When our journey reaches its termination, we will be wrapped in God's merciful arms, like the prodigal son. Because "you are forgiven" will be the final words we will hear, we are freed from the compulsive need to actualize perfectly our human potential and are released from the guilt that accompanies falling short of that goal. "Success and failure are accidental," writes one spiritual writer. "The'joy of the Christian is never based on . . . success but on the knowledge that (one's) Redeemer lives."6 Thus, the author encour-ages us to learn to li~,e peacefully to the end of our life with a certain imperfecti6n: The Lord will never ask how successful we were in overcoming a par-ticular vice, sin, or imperfection. He will ask us, "Did you humbly and patiently accept this mystery of iniquity in your life? How did you deal with it? Did you learn from it to be patient and humble? Did it teach you to trust not your own ability but my love? Did it enable you to under-stand better the mystery of iniquity in the lives of others?' ,7 Our lack of perfection will never separate us from God because the Lord's forgiveness is always perfect and total. What to Do Until the Messiah Comes Until that day of Christ Jesus, when we will receive "the perfec-tion that comes through faith in Christ and is from God," we are called to strive for the goal without ceasing (Ph 3: 9-10). We are to imitate St. Paul in his deep yearning "to have Christ and be given a place in him" (Ph 3:9). We have not yet won, but are still running, trying to capture the prize for which Jesus captured us. We too must forget the past and strain ahead for what is still to come. We must, in Paul's words, race "for the finish, for the prize to which God calls us upward to receive in Christ Jesus" (Ph 3: 14). Review for Religious, July-August 1989 Paul's expression of the Christian goal is beautifully poetic. We must look to a contemporary spirituality, however, to translate it into real-life terms. As a guide to Christian living, a spirituality' must spell out the prac-tical dimensions of that vision. It should keep the Gospel ideals eve~r be-fore the Christian sojourner. These ideals are meant to help Christians finish the spiritu~.l race and to receive a place in Christ. They can be use-ful in our spiritual odyssey. Like the stars, they may never be reached; but they are useful to steer our lives by. Ideals can hinder us, however, and discourage us from trying when the fear of performing poorly para-lyzes us. The French saying, "The best is the enemy of the good," il-lustrates this attitude of fearfulness. Ideals impede our spiritual progress when we use them as an excuse for mediocrity, thinking to ourselves: "Christian holiness is something for saintly people, not ordinary folks like us. ". Furthermore, ideals are injurious when they lure us into think-ing that we can earn God's approval by doing everything perfectJy. Paul refers to this as seeking a perfection that comes from the Law rather than from faithin Jesus (Ph 3:9). When striving for holine~ ss deceives us int6 thinking that we can stand in pharisaical judgment over others, we have been seduced by pride. Finally, ideals are harmful when they lead to cyni-cism and disillusionment. That no one fully lives up to espoused values should not undermine the importance of having high aspirations. The fail-ure of sincere efforts should not disillusion us, but the apathy of not try-ing should appall us. Dreaming is not the same as doing. Ideals should inspire us to act, not merely to dream. Thoughts of what could be tomorrow should lead us to do what we can today. When lofty aspirations lead to romantic pre-occupation rather than realistic pursuits, they retard our spiritual devel-opment. In a letter to a friend, C. S. Lewis makes this point nicely: We read of spiritual efforts, and our imagination makes us believe that, because we enjoy the idea of doing them, we have done them. I am ap-palled to see how much of the change which I thought I had undergone lately was on!y imaginary. The real workseems still to be done. It is so fatally easy to confuse an aesthetic appreciation of the spiritual life with the life itself--to dream that you have waked, washed, and dressed and then to find yourself still in bed.8 No matter how grand our ideals, they can only be achieved through small but steady steps. As the Chinese sage Lao Tze stated centuries ago, "The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step." We must bear this wise saying in mind as we let the star of idealism lead us, as with the magi, incompanionship to the Messiah. Striving for Spiritual Maturity / 509 Activity and Passivity in Spiritual Striving Striving for spiritual maturity is paradoxical. It requires us to be si-multaneously active and passive. We are called to exert our efforts and use our God-given talents to develop ourselves. And, at the same time, we must remember that our efforts alone can never bring us to holiness and wholeness; only God's grace can effect our transformation into Christ. While we ultimately cannot save ourselves, we must neverthe-less cooperate with divine grace. We must dispose ourselves to be re-ceptive to the sanctifying action of God's touch. In our spiritual journey we have to negotiate a delicate passage between the Scylla of presump-tion and the Charybdis of despair. Presumption, according.to St. Tho-mas Aquinas, is "an unwarranted dependence upofi God."9 It is the at-titude that God will do it all and that our efforts are not important. Fos-tering irresponsible inaction, it keeps us from doing our part. Despair, on the other hand, is losing hope in God's saving power. It stems from an exclusive reliance on our efforts, without any trust in God's power to make up for Qur human limitations. It results from thinking that eve-rything depends on us alone. Only ongoing discernment can help us main-tain the right balance in our spirituality between personal effort and trust-ing reliance on God. Both dynamics are encouraged by Scripture. Many New. Testament passages attest to the need to rely on God's power in order to bear spiritual fruit in our lives. A beautiful expression of this is the Johannine image of God as the vinedresser. Jesus is the vine and we are the branches. The Father prunes us so that we might bear fruit (Jn 15: I-2). Spiritual growth is passive in the sense that purification and progress are the direct results of God's action upon us. The evangelist Mark reinforces the centrality of God's action in his parable about the seed growing by itself. This is what the kingdom of God is like. A man throws seed on the land. Night and day, while he sleeps, when he is awake, the seed is sprouting and growing; how, he does not know. Of its own accord the land pro-duces first the shoot, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear. And when the crop is ready, he loses no time; he starts to reap because the harvest has come (Mk 4:26-29). Notice that the farmer's work is described with a minimum of words. The emphasis falls on the mysterious process of growth. Just as the earth produces fruit spontaneously, so God's reign comes by divine power alone. Once the seed is planted, the result is as sure, as dependable, and as silent as the forces of nature. Stage by stage--first the green shoot, then the spike of corn, and then the full grain in the ear--the seed of S10 /Review for Religious, July-August 1989 God's reign grows to harvest in a way that the farmer does not under-stand. This parable reminds us that nature (God's creation) contains a power which humans do not make or~direct. Similarly, God's grace will bring about conversion and growth in us in ways we may not understand. In human lives, the Spirit of Jesus is the divine power that brings God's kingdom from seed to harvest. When we remember that God's 'work-ing in us,.can do more than we can ask or imagine' (Ep 3:20), we will be protected from the pride and anxiety that stem from the myth of total self-sufficiency. But Scripture also stresses the importance of human effort. Luke's gospel strongly urges followers of Christ to translate words into action. "Why do you call me Lord, Lord," asks Jesus, "and not do what I say?" (Lk 6:46). Everyone who comes to me and listens to my words and acts on them ¯ . . is like the man who when he built his house dug, and dug deep, and laid the foundations on rock; when the river was in flood it bore down on that house but could not shake it, it was so well built. But the one who listens and does nothing is like the man who built his house on soil, with no foundations: as soon as the river bore down on it, it col-lapsed; and what a ruin that house became! (Lk 6:47-49). Jesus not only challenges us to practice his teachings, but also warns that our very hearing of his word must be done with care. In the parable of the sower and the seed, he describes the fragility ofthe seed of God's word. If it is not received by the right soil, it will not take root and grow. Grains that fall on the edge of the path represent people who have heard the word of God, but have it stolen from their hearts by the forces of evil. Seeds that fall on rock are like people who receive the word in a superfi-cial way, and give up in time of trial. Those that fall in the midst of thorns are Christians who let worries, riches, and pleasures of life choke their growth, preventing it from reaching maturity. Grains that fall in the rich soil signify those of generous hearts who have let the word take deep roots in themselves and have yielded a harvest through their persever-anc. e (Lk 8:11-15). Emphasizing the importance of human effort in dis-posing the soil of the inner self for receiving the word, Jesus concludes with a warning: "So take care how you hear" (Lk 8: 18). While Mark's parable of the seed growing by itself stresses the power of God actively bringing about growth, Luke's parable emphasizes the necessity of en-ergetic human cooperation. Another Lukan parable about a fruitless fig tree highlights the im-portance of personal effort. When its owner realized that his tree had Striving for Spiritual Maturity been barren for three years, he ordered his gardener to remove it. In-stead, the caretaker pleaded, "Sir, leave it one more year and give me time to dig round it and manure it: it may bear fruit next year; if not, then you can cut it down" (Lk 13:8-9). We too are called to actively tend the seed of God's word so that it can take deep roots in our souls and can bear fruit for the world. A classical biblical text used to illustrate the need for docility to God's formative action in our lives is Jeremiah's visit to the potter. Watch-ing the artisan working at his wheel, the prophet noticed that he contin-ued to shape and reshape the clay until he created what he was envision-ing. Then the word of Yahweh came to Jeremiah as follows: "House of Israel, can I not do to you what this potter does?. Yes, like clay in the potter's hand, so you are in mine, House of Israel" (Jr 18:1-6). While the image of the human person as clay being shaped by the divine Potter testifies beautifully to God's active involvement in our spiritual development, it should not be used to justify excessive passivity or in-fantile irresponsibility. While trying to be malleable to the fashioning in-fluence of God, Christians are called to take adult responsibility for their growth. This means taking active means to deepen one's love for God and neighbor. Activity and passivity must coexist in dynamic tension, if we are to remain.spir!tually healthy. In describing her Jeremiah-like visit to a pot-ter at work in Provincetown, situated at the tip of Cape Cod, a recent writer shed light on the active-passive dimension of spiritual formation. The observer discovered that the artist,, a woman-of more than seventy years, was a wise person as well as a potter. After conveying her belief in the direct relationship between the pliability of the clay and its strength, the artisan added, almost as an aside, "If you can't bend a lit-tle and give some, life will eventually break you. It's just the way it is, you know." ~0 The visitor noticed that the potter worked with both hands: one placed inside, applying pressure on the clay; the other on the out-side of the gradually forming pot,. Too much pressure from the outside would cause the pot to collapse, while too much pressure from the in-side would make the pot bulge outward. The old potter spoke wisely about life: Life, like the pot I am turning, is shaped by two sets of opposing forces ¯ . . Sadness and death and misfortune and the love of friends and all the things that happened to m~ that I didn't even choose. All of that in-fluenced my life. But there are things I believe in about myself, my faith in God, and the love of some friends that worked on the insides of me. ~ 512 / Review for Religious,. July-August 1989 Like Jeremiah, this modern day potter sheds light on the Lord's ways of dealing with us. The Lord who calls us to be holy is also the One who forms us into the image of Jesus, the living icon, of God. This divine Art-ist works on us with two hands: one shaping us from the inside and an-other molding us from the outside. Like the clay pot, we need to be mal- . leable. And, paradoxically, our pliability will give us strength to per-severe ac~tively in the process. Knowing how to bend a little will keep us from breaking. Experience as Manure in the Spiritual Field In the spiritual project of transformation into Christ, effort is what counts, not unremitting success. Acclaiming the value of practice in spiri-tual growth, the Eastern guru Chogyam Trungpa speaks of the "manure of experience and the field of bohdi." ~-~ Bohdi represents the search for enlightenment. If we are skilled and p~tient enough to sift through our experiences and study them thoroughly, we can use them to aid our en-lightenment. Our experiences, 'our mistakes, and even our failures func-tion like fertilizer. According to Trungpa, to deny or cover up our errors is a waste of experience. When we do not scrutinize our failures for the lessons they contain, we miss an opportunity. What appears to be use-less trash contains potential .nutrients for life. But, to convert our defi-ciencies into positive value, we need to pile them on a compost heap, not sweep them behind a bush. Hiding failure is to store it like rubbish. "And if you store it like that," the guru remarks, "you would not have enough manure to raise a crop from the wonderful field of bodhi.''~3 In a parallel way, experience can be said to be manure in the field of Christian development. Like manure, past experiences must be plowed into the ground to enrich the inner soil of the self, making it more re-ceptive to. the see.d of God's word. Then, we will reap an abundant har-vest base~l on our perseverance. Mistakes need not ruin our spiritual jour-ney, if we learn from them. Even saints like Augustine of Hippo and Ig-natius of Loyola learned how not to make mistakes by making many. The Lord who desires our holiness can bring good out of everything, can work in any and all of our experiences to transform us. In our fragmen-tation, we rejoice in the power of God to bring wholeness. If we bring our weakness before the Lord, humbly asking for the help of enabling grace, we can then trust that the Lord will produce an abundant harvest. Spiritual Growth Through Trial and Error The ideals of Christian spirituality cannot be achieved without im-mersing ourselves in the messiness of nitty-gritty experience. Learning Striving for Spiritual Maturity how to love God and others in an integrated way comes only through daily practice. The way of trial and error, not book learning alone, will teach us how to fashion a dynamic and balanced life in which there is room for solitude and community, ministry and leisure, autonomy and intimacy, personal transformation and social reform, prayer and play. Striking the right balance is a highly personal matter. No one can attain it for us; we must discover it ourselves through personal experience. As theologian John Dunne states, "Only one who has tried the extremes can find this personal mean., on the other hand, trying the extremes will not necessarily lead to finding the mean. Only the [person] who perceives the shortcomings of.the extremes will find it. 14 Blessings for the Journey Achieving wholeness and holiness requires traversing the difficult ter-rain of real life with all its challenges and crises. Even at the end of a lifetime of effort, we will still need to be completed by the finishin~g touch of the divine Artist. God will .then bring to completion in us the eternal design of persons destined to love wholeheartedly. While await-ing that unifying touch of divine grace, we pilgrims are called to follow the way of Jesus. And the Lord who walks with us assures that we will always be blessed. The blessings sent our way may not always be enjoy-able, but they will always nudge us forward in our efforts to love as God i'ntended. °~ A rabbi was once asked, "What is a blessing?" He prefaced his an-swer with a riddle involving the creation account in chapter one of Gene-sis. The riddle went this way: After finishing his work on each of the first five days, the Bible states, "God saw that it was good." But God is not reported to have commented on the goodness of what was created on the sixth day when the human person was fashioned. "What conclu-sion can you draw from tha~?" asked the rabbi. Someone volunteered, "We can conclude that the human person ~s not good." "Possibly," the rabbi nodded, "but that's not a likely explanation." He then went on to explain that the Hebrew word translated as "good" in Genesis is the word "tov," which is better translated as "complete." That is why, the rabbi contended, God did not declare the human person to be "toy." Human beings are created incomplete. It is our life's vocation to collabo-rate with our Creator in fulfilling the Christ-potential in each of us. As the medieval mystic Meister Eckhart suggested, Christ longs to be born and developed into fullness in each of us.~5 A blessing is anything that enters into the center of our lives and expands our capacity to be filled with Christ's love. Therefore, a blessing may not always be painless, but Review for Religious, July-August 1989 it will always bring spiritual growth. Being blessed does not mean being perfect, but being completed. To be blessed is not to get out of life what we think we want. Rather, itis the assurance that God's purifying grace is active in us, so that our "hidden self (may) grow strong" and "Christ may live in (our) hearts through faith." In this way, we will with all the saints be "filled with the utter fullness of God" (Ep 3:16-19). NOTES I Sam Keen, "Manifesto for a Dionysian Theology," in New Theology No. 7, eds. Martin E. M~irty and Dean G. Peerman (New York: Macmillan, 1970), p. 97. 2 LeRoy Aden, "On Carl Rogers" Becoming,"Theology Today XXXVI:4 (Jan. 1980), p. 558. 3 lbid, p. 557. 4 Ibid. 5 lbid, p. 558. 6 Adrian van Kaam, Religion and Personality (Denville, New Jersey: Dimension Books, 1980), p. 15. 7 lbid, p. 15. 8 C.S. Lewis, The3, Stand Together: The Letters of C.S. Lewis to Arthur Greeves (1914-1963), ed. Walter Hooper (New York: The Macmillan Co., Inc. 1979), p. 361. 9 Saint Thomas Aquinas, Summa Theologiae, Latin Text and English Translation, Introductions, Notes, Appendices, and GIossaries,~Vol. 33 (Blackfriars, with New York: McGraw-Hill and London: Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1966), II-II, Q 21, a I, ad 1. ~0 Paula Ripple, Growing Strong at Broken Places (Notre Dame, Indiana: Ave Ma-ria Press, 1986), p. 68. ~ Ibid, p. 69. ~z Chogyam Trungpa, Meditation in Action (Boston: Shambhala, 1985), p. 26. ~3 Ibid. ~4 John Dunne, The Way of All the Earth (New York: MacMillan Company, 1972), pp. 37-38. ~5 Meister Eckhart once said: "What good is it to me if Mary gave birth to the son of God fourteen hund'r~ed years ago and I do not also give birth to the son of God in my time and in my culture?" As quoted in Matthew Fox, Original Blessing: A Primer in Creation Spirituality (Santa Fe, New Mexico: Bear & Company, 1983), p. 221. The Shifting Order of Religious Life in our Church Maryanne Stevens, R.S.M. Sister Maryanne Stevens, R.S.M., is currently Assistant Professor of Theology at Creighton University. She had served as formation director for the Sisters of Mercy, Province of Omaha from 1977-1982. Her address is Department of Theology; Creighton University; California at 24th Street; Omaha, Nebraska 68178. The difficulty of thinking thorough questions about religious life today should not be underestimated. Such reflection is often complicated by the fact that those straining to see and articulate what the shifts in relig-ious orders mean for their future in our Church are often themselves mem-bers Of religious congregations. Thus, the efforts to make sense of vowed living can be blindedoby both self-interests and past~ ways of understand-ing. Th6 blindness feels to me like the fuzzy sight of Mark's blind man who could see people "but they look like trees, walking" (Mk 8:24). It was only after the man "looked intently" that he was able to see ev-erything clearly. This ~article is more an attempt to describe the "tree walking" than to asser(any.de~finitive conclusions. Two circumstances in particular have sparked my own reflections on the changing order of religious life. First, we continue to have members "leaving." They do not leave in the dark of night as they did in the 1950s; rather many stand before us in assembly or community saying that their integrity prevents them from +ontinuing to live the vowed life, but they wish always to remain ""sister" or "brother" to us. Many are not immediately interested in a different lifestructure, for example, marriage, personal wealth, and so forth; rather, they are no longer able to connect celibacy, poverty, and obedience to any understanding of their life. Secondly, those within religious communities primarily vested with 515 516 / Review for Religious~ July-August 1989 the role of discerning vocations and incorporating new members are no longer called the "formation-vocation" team. They are now referred to as the "membership team." Some of these new membership teams are made up of non-vowed associates of the community~ as well as vowed members. The job description of these teams is unclear even though it includes the discernment of vocation and the incorporation of new mem-bers because vocation and membership have taken on new meanings. Vo-cation is not necessary to the "vowed" life and membership does not necessitate professing the vows. The new terminology and the alteration in the constitution of the teams are profound symbols of a "changing order." These two realities--members continuing to remain attached to con-gregations even though they "leave" and the development of "mem-bership teams"--can allow for i~ew insight into how, with decreasing numbers,,religious orders will continue the legacy of their foun~lresses or founders, women and men whose gifts have been confirmed as a vivi-fying influence in the Church and the world.2 These gifts or charisms are the animating characteristics for the style of life, witness, and apostolic action within the congregations. Membership within a congregation has meant at its most basic level that a person'believes he or she is called to re-offer the charis~m of the founder to the contemporary world. This offering is buttressed by the belief that the gifts of the founder or foun-dress are not time-bound and will continueto contribute to a further ap-proximation of the reign of God in history. Thus the Sisters of Merc~y (the "order" to which I belong) present the foundation for their exis-tence as the desire to continue the story of a nineteenth-century Irish woman, Catherine McAuley, in theChurch and in the world. This par-ticular goal is expressed by tfieir fourtti vow of gervice and through the wording of their present Constituiions which point to the ideals of their congregation as well as the way they presently understand their congre-gation and words the way they presently understand th6ir mission as a community within the Church. By the vow of service we commit ourselves to exercise the spiritual and corporal works of mercy revealed to us through~ t~,h.e life of Jesus. En-riched by his love, healed by his mercy and0taught by his word we serve the poor, sick, and ignorant. To celebrate our corporate word in a discordant society requires the courage of a deep'faith and interior joy. We believe that God is faithful and that our struggle to follow Christ will extend God's reign of love over human hearts. We rejoice in the continued invitation to seek jus- The Shifting Order of Religious Life tice, to be compassionate, and to reflect mercy to the world.3 The thesis of this article is simply that the clues for how to continue the legacy of a particular founder or foundress will be found by looking intently at how the tradition of the founder or foundress continues to be lived, seeking to confirm all those ~'ho focus their discipleship of Christ through the prism of his or her life and legacy. In order to amplify this thesis, I will discuss eight understandings that result from an attempt to "look intently," and then present several ideas intended to help the "re-ordering" of religious communities. But, first, one caveat is necessary. No matter how blind men and women religious feel as they grope toward an understanding of their .lives, they must trust that they faithfully embody the tradition of the par-ticular foundress.or founder. When I was in formation work in the 1970s, I was fond of telling the newer .members that the Sisters of Mercy were made up of the names in the current directory and the names on the tomb-stones in our cemeteries. This was the most concrete way of describing what they were getting into~companionship with persons who were char-acterized by a variety of shapes, sizes, quirks, personalities, sickness, gifts, skills, weaknesses, ideas, and so forth--but with one thing in com-mon: they all believed they were called to focus their discipleship through the story of Catherine McAuley. It seemed essential that each member act toward the other with the belief that each sister was a part of this tradition and that all were searching for what was necessitated by the call to appropriately renew the story (or tradition) in the light of the sources of Christian life, the original inspiration behind the community and the changed condition of the times.'* At that time I was pointing the novices toward the vowed members of the group, the Sisters. Now the names in our directory include asso-ciate, that is non-vowed, members who have made a contract with us in which we promise our support for their attempts to live the tradition of Catherine McAuley and they promise specific ways in which they will contribute to the offering of Catherine's gifts to the Body of Christ. There-fore, wl~ether we be Sister JaneSmith, R.S.M. or Jane Smith, Associ-ate of the Sisters of Mercy, we must believe in and support one another as we seek to embody the tradition of our foundress. Each of us brings only a part of the story, thus each person who focuses his or her disci-pleship through the same tradition helps focus the present and the future "order" of one's specific congregation. Part I The following are my understandings of religious life today: I ) Men and women in religious orders are disciples of Jesus. We be- 511~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 long to a pilgrim people searching for the reign of God. We are blinded by sin and limitation as we seek to discover the ways of our God as re-vealed through Jesus. We learn how to follow Jesus in our times and in our circumstances. The primary mode of ou'r learning is experiential. It is complex and it calls us to struggle with our daily realities to see anew w,hat patterns in 6ur lives need conversion. The greatest threat to our dis-cipleship is to think that we have learned enough or to reduce the reign of God to the glimpses of glory which we see in our own time. Liberation theology is probably the clearest indication to today's Church that it is still on pilgrimage. Begun with Moses' vision of a God who had heard the crying out of the Israelite slaves, reiterated in Han-nah's canticle that praises God as one who will raise up the lowly, and reborn in the 1970s through the efforts of those struggling to see God and understand God's ways from the experience of twentieth-century op-pression, this theology reminds us as a Church that we are still learning not only how, but where to find Jesus.5 2) Members of religious orders are those who are disciples of a par-ticular charismatic leader recognized by our Church. Recognizing that our stories do not belong to the time and culture of the founder or foun-dress, the charisms of these characters and their companions are a way of expressing discipleship in Christ. To be members ofa religious con-gregation~ is to take one way of interpreting discipleship of Jesus, namely the life of a founder or foundress, as a way to focus discipleship. Again, congregational members are disciples of this way of focusing, that is, there is no profession, ministry, office, or role, no direct service or in-stitutionalized ,ministry, that exempts members frorri continually learn-ing what it means to pattern their lives or focus their discipleship of Je-sus through the prism of this great man or woman. All of our lives are mystery, not in the sense that they defy explana-tion, but in Gabriel Marcel's sense that the more we are involved in them, the more inseparable we become from their depth.6 Our Church has confirmed the legacy of some men and women as mysterious, that is, there is within these persons a depth of discipleship that calls and be-comes involving for others. Nano Nagle, Francis of Assisi, Ignatius of Loyola, Elizabeth Seton, Angela Merici, and Catherine McAuley are some of these people. Their gift to the Church is mysterious to us, and that is why they can properly have disciples. The more their lives, their stories are considered, the more insight we gain into what it might mean to be a disciple of Christ in our time. Thus, many religious congregations acknowledged with Vatican II The Shifting Order of Religious Life that reflection on what it meant to follow Christ and to plead the radical nature of the Gospel through the focus on their particular founder or foun-dress meant that they must be learners of new ways. The call for renewal necessitated a refounding and a reordering of these congregations that con-tinues into the present.7 This challenge reminds many in a very profound way that they are indeed learners. 3) We are co-dikciples. There can be no doubt about this. Baptism incorporates us into a community of disciples. As members of religious communities, we are co-disciples, learners with the other clergy and la-ity. Appropriating Gospel values and finding patterns of life that typify holiness are calls received by all within the Christian community, whether they be married, single, or vowed. The sixth-century understand-ing of Pseudo-Dionysius who envisioned the grace of God as descend-ing through three hierarchical angelic choirs into two earthly hierarchies of clergy and laity respectively was normative until Lumen Gentium's statement that "in the Church, everyone . . . is called to holi-ness . ,,8 No longer do lay folk stand below those ~who profess the evangelical counsels nor do the latter stand below those who are ordained to the priesthood in the Church. Paul VI reiterated the Vatican Council's hierarchy-shattering words when he said that the whole Church received the mission of Jesus--"the community of believers, the community of hope lived and communicated, the community of love. ,,9 The consideration of volunteers, partners, and associates who claim the life and charism of a founder or foundress of a religious order in our Church as their way of focusing discipleship reminds us that we are co-disciples. These new relationships can intimidate as well as inspire and so we must continually remind ourselves of John Paul ll's challenge to the whole Church to embrace mercy. In Dives in Misericordia, he de-fined Christian mercy as "the most perfect incarnation of "equality" between people., love and mercy bring it about that people meet one another in that value which is the human person., thus mercy becomes an indispensable element for shaping mutual relationships between peo-ple, in a spirit of deepest respect for what is human . ,,~0 4) As members of apostolic congregations, ministry is our reason for existence. A common life and the vows have constituted the order of re-ligious life, but the purpose of this order for apostolic communities has always been service. Many founders and foundresses wrote words simi-lar to those of Catherine McAuley, the foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, when describing the qualifications for an aspirant to apostolic groups. Catherine stre'ssed "an ardent desire to be united to God and to serve 520 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 the poor" and a "particular interest" in helping the sick and dying. ~ The rereading of the history of apostolic orders, which was occasioned by the cali of Vatican II to renew, led many congregational members to realize that "order" or common patterns in the style and structure of the lives of men and women who focused their discipleship through the charism of a particular founder, is negotiable, but the reason for the or-der is not. This should help women and men religious to open themselves and their ownership of the legacy of their founder or foundress to those who do not "order" their lives in the same way. If the purpose of the order is service,or ministry, then should those who do not profess the evangelical counsels be excluded? This can be a very challenging ques-tion, because throughout history the only way to claim concretely many of these charisms or legacies was to order one's life through the evan-gelical counsels of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. But, as Dorothy noted in the Wizard of Oz, "Toto, we're not in Kansas anymore." Men and wom'en who do not profess these vows are desiring both to minister after the fashion of these great men and women and to receive the sup-port of congregations dedicated to these legacies without maintaining a common living style or divesting themselves of marriage possibilities or ownership of property. 5) It is not order, but mission that describes our lives. John O'Mal-ley, S.J. claims that the history of apostolic religious orders might more properly belong to the history of ministry than to the history of institu-tionalized asceti~cism. ~2 Groups that banded together for the sake of serv-ice presented a whole new trajectory within our Church, as they were a break from the ascetical tradition. However, the Church in its concern to regulate these groups modeled their "order" on the flight of Anthony into the desert in 275 A.D. Many of the great women foundresses, in par-ticular, found their desire to gather others for the sake of service to a par-ticular need frustrated by an order of enclosure, profession of vows, and obedience to an ecclesiastical superior. ~3 For example, the Sisters of Mercy often reflect on the history of Cath-erine McAuley whose companionship with other women grew around their mutual attention to the poor in early nineteenth-century Dublin. In-dependently wealthy, she commissioned the building of a "House of Mercy'r in which women could gather to devote themselves to the relief of suffering and the instruction of the ignorant. She resisted and ex-pressed discomfort about the "order" of the lives of those in congrega-tions of nuns, to the point of abhorring the thought of spending time in the Presentation novitiate to learn the ways of an established canonical The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 591 institute into the Church. However she submitted to the "ordering" be-cause without it her mission would have failed. ~4 The time in which she lived demanded that women engaged in companionship for the salve of service be organized as vowed religious women. Among many active congregations of religious in the United States, especially congregati.ons of women, the question of whether or not to re5 main canonical has arisen. This question is motivated primarily by the difficulty involved in gaining the Congregation for Religious and Secu-lar Institute's (CRIS) approbation for Constitutions and the reordering of "religious" life so that it more properly aids in fulfilling the particular mission of the group. ~5 The question, however, is not whether religious congregations will choose to remain canonical, that is, of some standard within our Church; the question is how their "order" will be specified within the Church,-that is, how will they organize themselves as women arid men embodying the charisms of great founders or foundresses within the Church. Ignoring for a moment the enormous difficulties of dealing with a bureaucratic power structure that often seems less than open to anything irregular, let us look at the question before us. Can we, as disciples of the great founders and foundresses in our Church, make a distinction be-tween vocation to a particular lifestyle or life structure (that is, marriage vows/the choice of single life/vows of poverty, celibacy, obedience) and the vocation to a particular charism and mission within the Church (a deep identity with the spirit and gifts of a particular person who focuses our discipleship of Jesus)? I think that the movements of associate membership, volunteers, part-nership (all of which imply non-vowed varying degrees of membership in religious "orders"), mighi be a tremendously important break within the history of what have come to be called "active orders" in our Church, but these movements will further our ability as a Church to do ministry as baptized disciples of Jesus. 6) One of the most pressing questions for: religious congregations is what life structure or "order of life"facilitates discipleship of Jesus focused through the mission of their founder or foundress. The current documentation abou( the life structure of those called to follow a foun-der or foundress organizes it around the three vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience. Both the Vatican II document on religious life and the 1983 Essentials of Religious Life promulgated by the Vatican Congrega-tion for Religious and for Secular Institutes present the evangelical coun-sels as not only "essential," but also as the basis for the organization 522/Review for Religious, July-August 1989 of life for those in religious congregations. However, both Sandra Sch-neiders and John Lozano, show effectively in their recent and widely read treatments of religious life that the vows cannot be taken as impor-tant in themselves. 16 The vows, if taken at all, need to be placed in the context'of a statement of desire to,pursue the mission of the community, how we promise to accept the responsibilities of this mission in our lives, and how others dedicated to this mission accept us within their group. Furthermore there is more and more recognition (fueled by the relatively new science of psychology) t.hat intimate, committed relationships to per-sons, ownership, and autonomy do not make one less holy. Along with this, New Testament scholars have shown that these counsels do not flow from the gospels as such, but were constructs of our Church at a later time. And, even without Vatican ll's assertion of.the universal call to holiness, experience tells most of those who are presently members of religious congregations that they are no more holy than thos6 who choose to marry and have children, own property, and center their autonomy dif-ferently. Indeed, if men and women are going to structure their lives by pro-fessing the evangelical coufisels, (thus sacrificing the gifts of sex, own-ership, and autonomy), then these must only be given up for the sake of mission. Johannes Metz is perhaps the most clear and the most chal-lenging on this point. In his Followers o.fChrist: Perspectives on Relig-ious Life, he argues that the vows are both mystical and political. Thus, poverty demands not only a protest against the tyranny of having, pos-sessing, and pure self-assertion; it also impels those practicing it into a practical and situational solidarity with those poor whose poverty is their condition of life and the situation exacted of them by society, rather than a matter of virtue. Celibacy, as a state of being radically seized by a long-ing for the reign of God, impels one toward those unmarried people whose not having anyone is not a virtue but their social destiny, and to-wards those who are shut up in lack of expectation and in resignation. And finally, obedience is the radical and uncalculated surrender to God and it impels one to situate oneself .among those for whom obedience is nota matter of virtue but the sign of oppression and placement in tute-lage.~ 7 It is only in this way that these counsels can ever be real signs of eschatological witness. Metz has called vowed communities "shock therapy instituted by the Holy Spirit for the Church as a whole.''~8 Us-ing Metz's ideas, if I read him right, many more of us might call our-selves "associate members" of religious congregations than already do out of integrity. There may be many who want to focus their discipleship The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 593 of Jesus through the legacy of a great founder or foundress, but their ac-commodations to the culture would indicate not that they are lesser dis-c! ples, but rather that the functions they perform and the gifts they bring to the reign of God are not th6se that necessitate or call them to the vowed life. That is, "association" may be more appropriate for those who draw support from the tradition or story of a great founder or foundress and find the mission of that congregation an animating principle for their dis-cipleship. Whereas formal vowed commitment to one another, relinquish-ing of goods and full authoring over one's choice of service might be re-served for those whose discipleship leads them to more radical under-takings. The question here concerns the life-structure (or "order") that has traditionally been associated with claiming followership of a specific mission in our Church. Are there ways to embody the tradition of minis-try defined, by a great founder or foundress in our Church as one group in which some are vowed to poverty, celibacy, and obedience and oth-ers are not? Those who are vowed in the traditional way choose a life-structure which more clearly binds them to the ~reedom to move around and respond to unmet needs among the poor, alone, and oppressed. 19 Those who do not profess the vows but do center their discipleship on the founding charism might be called to a,life-structure which points to-ward a certain stability within a local Church community. One could as-sert that there must be ways to accommodate this diversity because even using the traditional ordering of religious life, which included the vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience as part of the package, I would sub-mit that there are some within religious congregations who have the free-dom to live the vows as Metz proscribes and others whose lives point toward and demand a different modi~ of discipleship. That is, the vows may not be absolutely constitutive of focusing one's discipleship through the charism of a great founder or foundress.2° 7) There is a need for enabling ministers who are not constrained by local church boundaries. According to O'Malley, one of the most re-markable characteristics of the development of active orders is that it in effect created a "church order (or several church orders) within the great church order and itdid this for the reality to which ~:hurch order primar-ily looks--ministry."z~ That is, pontifically erected religious orders en-joy a warrant and exemption from the bishop of Rome to act publicly on behalf of the Christian community wherever the needs to which their charism responds arise. This has, throughout history, caused some ju-ridical as well as cultural complications. However, despite difficulties, 524 / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 needs have been' attended to that would never have been served if it was necessary to rely only on the personnel within local boundaries. As the order of religious life shifts, this is a very important compo-nent of our history that should not be lost. This "pontifical warrant" for the sake of ministry has allowed for tremendous creativity in meet-ing the needs of the people of God. Glimpses of the reign of God are seen in the histqry Of religious orders who have brought literacy, heal-ing, and economic stability to the uneducated, sick, ahd poor around the world. 8) Finally, men and women in religious orders need to realize the gifts they can sh~are with the Church. The emergence of the laity is very new to our Church, and the long history that religious orders have of do-in~ ministry leaves many' within them unskilled at enabling and serving with others. But vowed men and women need to recognize that one of the gifts they may have is 6ffering those who have taken to heart the mes-sagegf the gospel and the spirit of Vatican II both some encouragement and some means for realizing their call. Many who~desire a more intense following of Christ may find that the sp, iritual, intellectual, and apostolic life in their parishes does not encourage these needs and aspirations. Thus, they only feel frustration in their call to maturity and co-responsibility in the Church. Religious orders ha~,e a wealth of experi-ence in thinking through methods for spiritual development and encour-aging other adults in gro~vth. Many find in religious life rich resources of the heritage of the Church not avail~.ble in local parishes. They find a focus and discipline for spiritual growth, a unifiedvision of the pur-pose of discipleship, .and a structured identity with a family in a living tradition of the Church. The challenge is to share these gifts, without thinking people have to become "mini-religious'"l~o acquire them. An extension of our charisms beyond those in the vowed ranks might mean that many more can become effective ministers in the parish and the Church at large. Part II We should not be surprised that a "new ordering" is difficult for us to think about and may even create controversy, dissention, and fear when we attempt to talk about it with one another. Anything new always brings a death to something within the present. Many of us love our way of ordering our .lives. We have lived the vows and known ourselves and our companions to grow through the experiences they have presented to us. We want to share our-lives, extend them, and see the "ordering" that has facilitated our growth be embraced by others. Yet this "order" The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 525 may have to die so that discipleship focused on the great charismatic lead-ers in our Church might continue. We are challenged to refound our con-gregations. This challenge implies the freedom to consider reordering our lives for the sake of mission. From the above understanding flow the following ideas that may help religious congregations to reorder their membership and to reorder the perception of religious life in the Church. I) We, as those who vowed ourselves to the legacy of great founders and foundresses within the order specified by the Church, must continue to think about what that means. Imitating her tongue-in-cheek, I quote the twentieth-century Jewish philosopher, Hannah Arendt, "what I pro-pose, therefore, is very simple: it is nothing more than to think what we are doing." The thinking, although allegedly simple, is.indeed quite com-plex and we of.ten try to escape it, precisely because we did it once be-fore during the 60s and the 70s. Even though new life was born in our midst, many of us remember the struggle and some among us have not quite recovered. Thifiking usually means that we risk conversation of sub-stance. And conversation of substance usually implies the same kind of controversy as that depicted in the Gospel account of Jesus asking Peter a question of substance. "Who do people say .that I am?" is the query of the man who had just multiplied loaves and then cured a blind one. Peter knew who Jesus was. "You are the Christ." But Peter did not like the implications of the insight. "Get behind me, Satan" is the rebuke heard when Peter tried to squirm out of the new order specified not only for Jesus but also for his own discipleship. Insights gleaned from thinking and from conversation of substance can be threatening. But we must remember that even more threatening is the possibility that some valuable offerings to the further approxima-tion of the reign of God will be lost if we are unwilling to gain and ex-press the insights of our experiences. If our experience is that the vows do not make meaning in our lives, but the charism of our founder does, then perhaps we must search for other ways to order our lives so as to offer more fully the charism of our. community to the Church. And, if our experience is that others who are not vowed can claim the legacy of our founders, (and more importantly if their experience confirms this), then they must be allowed to do so in an equal fashion. 2) We must effect reconciliation and a spirit of interdependence within our Church, especially with persons and groups claiming the same charism. As stated earlier, a tradition specifying that God's grace flowed toward the non-vowed and non-ordained last was reinforced in 596 / Review foUr Religious, July-August 1989 popular piety until the Second Vatican Council. This distanced many re-ligious from other laity and created a perception ihat vows or ordination meant that one was more graced and clos+r to God'. Men and women in religious; congregations must actively pursue reconciliation with other la-ity because, intentionally or non-intentionally, some disunity has been effected within .our Church. We can take a cue from Paul, ambassador of reconciliation, who was .furious with his community at Galatia when they entertained the idea ofclassifying and categorizing the early Chris-tians. In Christ, there is neithe~ Jew nor Greek, slave nor free person, male nor female, women religious nor lay women, Dominican from Mercy, associate member from more traditionally ordered mem-bers . Often former members of religious orders continue to claim the charism of the order as a way of focusing their discipleship. We must reach out to these people and ask them if,. even though they found the "order" of our lives restrictive, they still find themselves drawn to the charism asa focus. We need to confirm the existence and continuance of the charism in these people, and perhaps just as importantly, let them confirm the continuance of the charism in us. A more concrete way of symbolizing our reconciliation and interdependence on one another is a very simple, yet awkward thing. We need to re-form our vocabulary so that "sisters" and "brothers" does not refer to a closed group of vowed women or men. Just as many have committed themselves to the use of gender inclusive language, we need to change the language specific to our communities, so that "sisters and brothers" becomes a way to refer to all, vowed and non-vowed, who find themselves bound to the same charism. 3) Within our working places, we must announce what inspires us. We must claim our founder or foundress as inspirations, as stories that aid our belief in and discipleship of the Christ. Many people look for a way to focus and sustain their belief, and there appear to be few heroes of a depth able to sustain followers in our contemporary life. Since many of us have been inspired by and nurtured in the founding spirit of a great man or woman disciple of Christ, we must share the gift. We must let others know what moves us, inspires us, and keeps us going as disciples in a world where the odds against the fullness of God's reign dawning seem to be mounting. Perhaps we need ways to be again inspired and again encouraged in our own focus before we will feel enthusiastic enough to inspire others. In many cases, our associates are formally rethinking and reaffirming The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 527 their commitments each year. They renew their covenant with the leg-acy of the community, and they reconsider and recommit themselves to their association with others who share the same focus. Might we not learn from them something about animating our own commitments by using this model? Let us not merely resurrect the passivity of receiving an appointment card with our job and the provincial's name on it, even though there was important symbolism there. Let us every year rework and represent our covenant with the legacy of our founder or foundress. Let us reconsider and recommit ourselves to the implications of disci-pleship and association with others who share the same mission. These understandings and recommendation are initial forays into a very difficult, yet timely, topic. They are intended to spark further thought and discussion. Although I doubt there is danger of them being considered a "last word," let me close with a few lines from T.S. Eliot's Four Quartets. They reflect, 1 think, what it means to see trees walking, to be fuzzy in our sight, and what it means to face this period of time as religious men and women in our Church. These are only hints and guesses Hints, followed by guesses, and the rest Is prayer, observance, discipline, thought, and action. The hint half guessed, the gift half understood is Incarnation. Here the impossible union of spheres of existence is actual, Here the past and future Are conquered, and reconciled . -~-~ NOTES ~ An associate member is defined for the purposes of this article as one who wants to share in the life and apostolate of a religious institute and to become a member to a certain extent. "They are members associated and not incorporated by profes-sion. For a discussion of the variety of such groups and their notation in the new code of Canon Law, see Elio Gambari, Religious Life According to Vatican II and the New Code of Canon Law, (Boston: Daughters of St. Paul, 1986), pp. 625-635. Also, David F. O'Connor, "Lay Associate Programs: Some Canonical and Practi-cal Considerations," REview For~ REt.~;~ous 44, 2(March-April, 1985), pp. 256-267. 2 How to continue the legacy of the founder or foundress or how to continue the mis-sion of the congregation is understood to be the underlying concern of those who e.xpress dismay of the declining numbers in religious congregations. 3 Sisters of Mercy of the Union, Constitutions (Silver Spring, Maryland, 1986), nos. 29-30. Most active congregations use wording similar to this to describe their mis-sion. 521~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1989 4 This describes the call to religious men and women from the Second Vatican Coun-cil, See Perfectae Caritatis, the "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Relig-ious Life," no. 2 in Walter Abbott (ed.), The Documents~ of Vatican !I (The Amer-ica Press, 1966)." " 5 For a concise description of liberation theology by two of its most challenging pro-ponents, see Leonardo and Clodovis Boff, Introducing Liberation Theology (Ma-ryknoll: Orbis Press, 1987). 6 See his Being and Having, (New York: Harper Torchbook edition, 1965), p. I 17, 145. 7 For some initial strategies presented to and used widely in the early 1980s by men and wom,en religious struggling with the call to '~refound," see Lawrence Cada et al, Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life, (New York: Seabury Press, 1979). s "The Dogmatic Constitution on the Church," in Abbott, no. 39. 9 Evangelii Nuntiandi, "On Evangelization in the Modern World (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference, 1976). no. 15. ~0 "Rich in Mercy," (Washington, D.C.: U.S. Catholic Conference,. 1981), no. 14. ~ 1836 letter to a parish priest in Nass, Ireland, Quoted in Kathleen O'Brien's Jour-neys: A Preamalgamation History of the Sisters of Mercy, Omaha, Province (Omaha, Nebraska: Sisters of Mercy,1987), 6. ~20'Malley conceives of "active orders" as a '~critically important phenomenon in the history of ministry claiming "apostolic" inspiration," rather than as the insti-tutional embodiment of an ascetical tradition traced back to Pachomius. See -Priest-hood, Ministry, and Religious Life: Some Historical and Historiographical Consid-erations," in Theological Studies, 49 (1988), p. 227. ~3 The sweeping 1298 decree of Boniface VIII (repeated by Pius V in 1566) com-manded that "all nuns, collectively and individually, present and to come, of what-soever order of religion, in whatever part of the world they may be, shall henceforth remain in their monasteries in perpetual enclosure." Insight into the unfortunate ef-fect of this decree throughout the centuries following on women's attempts to or-gaoize associations for ministry can be gleaned from reading histories of women foun-dresses, such as Angela Merici, Nano Nagle, Mary Ward, and Louise de Marillac. ~'~ For more information about Catherine McAuley, see Sr. M. lgnatia Neumann, R.S.M., ed., Letters of Catherine McAuley (Baltimore: Helicon Press Inc., 1969) and M. Joanna Regan, R.S.M., Tender Courage: A Reflection on the Life and Spirit of Catherine M~Auley, First Sister of Mert3, (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1988). ~5 Note the history of the Glenmary Sisters of Cincinnati or the Los Angeles I.H.M.'s in addition to the more recent stories of Agnes Mary Monsour, Arlene Violet, and Elizabeth Morancy, all Sisters of Mercy unable to continue their ministries as vowed women ifi religious congregations. Consider also the present renewal attempts of the Association of Contemplative Sisters. For brief surveys of these cases, see "Inside- Outsiders" chapter three of Mary Jo Weaver's New Catholic Women: A Contempo-rary Challenge to Traditional Religious Authority (New York: Harper and Row, 1988) . ~6 See Sandra M. Schneiders, New Wineskins: Re-imaging Religious Lift, Today (New York: Paulist, 1986) and John M. Lozano, Discipleship: Towards An Understand-ing of Religious Life (Chicago: Claret Center tk)r Spiritual Resources, 1980). Also see O'Malley, "Priesthood," p. 249 tbr the same point from a different perspec- The Shifting Order of Religious Life / 599 tive. ~7 J.B. Metz, Followers of Christ: Perspectives on the Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), chapter 3. ~8 lbid, p. 12. 19 Being "bound to freedom" appears at first sight to be an oxymoron, however the phrase is an attempt to reflect the demands made by the vows. ~0 Of interest in this regard is that even though various documentation from our church and the recent writings on religious life avert to the vows as important, if not essential, the Fifth Interamerican Conference on Religious Life, inclusive of leader-ship from men and women religious of North and South America, did not name the vows as essential. In a preparatory paper, the Leadership Conference of Women Re-ligious named mission, community, freedom, ministry, participative government, pub-lic witness, apostolic spirituality, spirituality of the founder, and ecclesial character as characteristics of religious life. None of the descriptions of the above included the vows. See The Role of Apostolic Religious Life in the Context of the Contempo-rary Chu'rch and World: Fifth Interamerican Conference on Religious Life (Ottawa: Canadian Religious Conference, 1986). 2~ O'Malley, p. 236. 22 T.S. Eliot, The Four Quartets (London: Faber and Faber, 1960), lines 212-219. Monasticism: A Place of Deeper Unity M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O., well-known for his many publications on prayer and the contemplative life, may be addressed at Assumption Abbey; Route 5; Ava, Missouri 65608. In 1976 for six months I had the privilege of living among the Orthodox monks on Mount Athos, the semi-autonomous monastic republic in north-ern Greece. There the Gospels are the law of the land and day-to-day liv-ing is governed by the writings of the great spiritual fathers of the past, most notably those of Saint Basil, Archbishop of Caesarea, named the Great. I noted the remarkable affinity between the life lived on the Moun-tain and that lived by the monks of Saint Joseph's Abbey in the United States, from whence I came. The one great difference that struck me was the way lay visitors were incorporated into the life and worship of the monks. It was evident that there was no gulf between the life and wor-ship of the monks and that of the ordinary devout member of the Ortho-dox church. Orthodox monasticism is at the heart of the Church and all the rest of Church life is deeply influenced by it. In Western Christianity, monasticism is further removed from the life of the ordinary church member. Yet the historical influence of the monas-tics can not be denied, even among those Christian Churches which have largely disowned monasticism. Catholics generally revere monasticism, especially the more contemplative variety, and hold it in reverence as something vital to the life of the Church. The Second Vatican Council affirmed this strongly. Quite generally Catholics frequent monastic guest houses and retreats and find there something that speaks deeply to them. Protestant Christians from such contacts are beginning to reclaim this part of the common Christian heritage. The Anglican or Episcopal church 530 Monasticism and Unity/531 has been in the forefront in this. But the most notable Protestant monas-tery is one within the reform tradition--the monastery of Taize which is found in a part of France filled with monastic resonances: Citeaux, Cluny, Molesme. Most re~:ently the General Conference of the United Methodist Church has authorized the exploration of the possibility of es-tablishing an ecumenical monastic community in the United States. ,Monasticism is, then, a widespread phenomenon within the Chris-tian community and is becoming ever more present. It would be difficult to exaggerate the role of monasticism within some of the other world religions. Tibet, before the recent Communist take over, could have been called, like Mount Athos, a monastic coun-try, more a theocracy than a republic. In many Buddhist countries it has been the expected thing that every male would spend sometime within a,.monastery as part of his preparation for life. Although secularization is having an increasing effect within the Buddhist world, the monastic influenc

Issue 25.1 of the Review for Religious, 1966. ; Religious Women and Pastoral Nork by J. M. R. Tillard. O.P. 1 Metanoia or Conversion by J6seph Fichtner, O.S.C. 18 The Church's Holine~g and Reh~ous Life by Gustave Ma'~t~lei, S.J. 32 Religious Significance of the T.rinity by Bernard Fraigneau-Julien, ~.S.S. 53 Contemplatives and Change ~by Mother M. Angelica! P.C. 68 The Crisis of Creatur~liness by Alfred de Souza, S.J; 73 Sdence and Renewal by Thomas Dubay,] S.M. 80 Freudian Gloom and Christiah Joy by William J. Ello~, S.J. 95 Freedom to IObey by Mother M. Viola, O.S.F~ 104 The Great Waste by Sister Mary Carl Ward, I~.S.M. 114 A Fresh Look at God by Patrick J. 0 Halloran,, S.J. 125 Poems 130 Survey of RomanDocumi ents 132 Views, News, Prdviews 135 Questions and Ariswers 138 Book Rdviews 142 VOLUME 25 NUMBER I January 1966 Volume 25 1966 EDITORIAL OFFICE St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas 66536 BUSINESS OFFICE 428 East Preston Street Baltimbre, Maryland 21202 EDITOR R. F. Smith, ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ella~d, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS Ralph F. Taylor, S.J. William J. Weiler, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, S.J2 Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland 22163 Book Reviews. Norman Weyand, S.J. Bellarmine School of Theology of Loyola University 230 South Lincoln Way North Aurora, Illinois 60542 Published in January, March, May, July, September, Novem-ber on the fifteenth of the month. REVIEW FOR RELI-GIOUS is indexed in the CATHOLIC PERIODICAL IN-DEX. and in BOOK REVIEW INDEX J. Mo R. TILLARD, O.P. Religious Women and Pastoral Work It is interesting to study fxom a theological viewpoint the history of the appearance in the Church of religious communities of women devoted to the active life. One basic trait clearly distinguishes them: in spite of the immense diversity of their immediate ends, all these con-gregations find their finality in the exercise of evan-gelical charity in the form of what is ordinarily referred, to as "the works of mercy." Whether it is a question of caring for the sick, of helping the poor, of educating youth, of assisting the~ aged, or of accepting and rehabili-tating certain categories of men: and women, rejected bye our society, the central activity of these communities always issues in a direct love of human beings., If one compares, for example, a missionary congregation of men such as the Holy Ghost Fathers and a missionary con-gregation of women such as the Sisters of St. Joseph of Cluny, it will be seen how, in the same human context and with the same apostolic aim, ~the activity of such religious women brings to e~clesial activity a specific note of realistic charity. The priest preaches the gospel and administers the sacraments; the 'lay brother is occupied with the material needs o[ the mission; but the mission-ary sister attempts to incarnate concretely in the here and now the message of fraternal charity which is at the heart of the good news: she nurses, she feeds, she edu-cates. It is.this area that is her ministry, and in it.she finds the certainty of serving her Lord in all fullness. While in non-clerical religious communities of men (such as teaching or hospital brothers) there often ap-pears a kind of tension arising from the fact that these religious experience a sense of frustration at not being able. to exercise a priestly ministerial function, com-munities of women ordinarily find peace in the humble, day-by-day gift of their charity. This point seems to us to be ecclesiologically and pastorally important; and we would like to study it here ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O.P., is professor of dogmatic theology at the Dominican House, of Studies; 96 Empress Ave-nue; Ottawa 4, Can-ada. VOLUME 251 1966 ! ÷ ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from three distinct points of view: first, we shall attempt to point out the theological characteristics of the specific activity of the religious women at the heart of all ecclesial activity; then we shall try to situate that activity of religious women in its direct relationship with the ac-tivity of the hierarchy; and finally we shall discuss the concrete possibilities of enlarging their activities in ac-cord with the needs of the Church today. The Work o[ Charity o[ Religious Women Is at the Heart of the Apostolic Charity of the Church In what does the charity of God's Church for men consist? To this question an answer can be given in the simple statement: the Church seeks to be a genuine in-strumentof grace by which the love of God Himself for men can be effective in the here and now of the human situation. In other words, in her charity the Church does not seek to love merely in her own name; rather she is desirous" that through her and through the mediation of her transparency and of her profound mystery of com-munion with God there may pass the power of the agape of the Father. This is the reason why her love for men is always humble and poor and never triumphant: she of-fers her heart, her hands, her toils, and her goods to the charity of God. It is in this way--and perhaps above all in this way--that she is sacrament in the precise sense that through her and the ministry of her action the One who is defined as Love reveals Himself and acts. He is that Love which does not remain enclosed within itself but which on the contrary radiates out to touch and affect all beings and all the reality of every being. To say that the Church is servant--and this perhaps is her most fitting characteristic in the present time of the history of salvation--is to say that she has no meaning except inso-far as she serves as an intermediary between the mysteri-ous love of the Father and men as they actually exist. More profoundly, it is to say that she is a mystery o[ charity; that is, through the total availability created in her by her love [or God passes the love o[ God Himself. It does not seem to us to be an exaggeration to say that today God wishes to love the world through the heart o[ the Church. In this Iove of God for men transmediated by the Church there is without doubt an internal and essential order. The dominant wish of the Father--and the entire gospel message affirms this--is to lead men to His king-dom, to introduce them already in this life to the inti-macy of His friendship in order that eventually they may share for all eternity in the glory of His Son. Christianity is not to be confused with humanism, however great the latter may be; its aim is always that self-surpassing which we call the "life of grace," and the Church can be faithful to her mission only insofar as she leads men into the fullness of the Pasch of Jesus. This is why at the heart of her action her fundamental preoccupation is always with the Pasch and its two moments of death to sin and of resurrection to newness of life. She exists [or the Pasch; she exists to proclaim the staggering reality of this Day that inaugurates the new times, to make present and active its power in the Eucharist and the other sacra-ments, to keep men in contact with this source of the love of the Father. A Church that would cease to center its life on the Pasch would no longer be the Church of God (Ekklesia tou Theou), the sacrament and the place of agape. Nevertheless, this paschal love is a total love of man in the concrete, and it has nothing of the abstract about it. It does not merely aim at.some small, secret zone of the human person (what is equivocally called "his interior life"). Without effecting an artificial cleavage between the natural and the supernatural, the temporal and the eternal, it encounters the person as he really is in the unity of his person. On the one hand, it penetrates to the very depths of the human being whom it renews and re-creates by grace; on the other hand, its pervasive in-fluence reaches the entire extent of the human mystery. Between the mystery of the redemption and the mys-tery of creation there exists a profound unity, the link-ing bond of which is precisely the paschal event. The Father of Jesus is God the Creator; and the Son who is incarnated in Jesus is just as truly the One "through whom God created the world" (Heb 1:2). Moreover, if God sends His Son, He does so--it is the living tradition of the Church as expressed by Irenaeus--in order to save and to regain the fix'st creation that has been wounded by sin. The Resurrection is not simply a starting point, the ¯ dawning of eschatological times; it is above all the glorification of creation by the entry of a man (its King) into full participation in the Spirit of God. It is the ele-vation and exaltation of nature by the power of agape. For the Father does not give the resurrected Christ a new Body; He restores that Body of His that was born of Mary but now is flooded with divine gifts. He thereby lets us know--a point that we often forget--that His plan is a single one, that in Him there is not one plan as Creator and another plan as Redeemer with a clearcut distinction between them; there is only one plan of love that envelops all of human destiny. This, moreover, is the reason why baptism which opens the door to the world of grace is also the leavening pledge of the resur-rection of nature (Rom 6:5; 8:11; Eph 2:6). Paschal love--of which the Church is the instrument + + ÷' ÷ ÷ ~÷ J. M. R. Till~rd~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS --is, then, a love that is directed to the entire reality of the human condition and that refuses every form of selec- . tivity with regard to the makeup of the human existen-tial. In its ultimate finality it is eschatological in the sense that its overall concern is with leading man to the glory of the Parousia. Nevertheless, it is concerned with the human situation as this is realized here and now. For here and now God loves man; here and now His Father's heart wishes to give His creature the benefits of His in-finite love; here and now He wishes men to know that in spite of their misery they are loved by Him; and here and now He desires :that the world be infused with the re-creation and healing of nature provided by the Pasch of J~sus. More than this, God the Father desires that this love, immediately directed to the nature of man and seeking to heal sicknesses, to console the troubled, and to succor the poor, should be the atmosphere in which there shines forth the revelation of that other dimension of agape which opens on the joy of eternity. In other words, the eschatological aim of paschal love--the prom-ise and the hope of eternal liIe where .there will be "'no more wailing, no more crying,, no more pain" (Ap 21:4) --can be proclaimed and revealed only by the action of ecclesial charity on the miseries and .sufferings of this earthly life. Charitable action in the today and the tem-poral of the history of men is nothing less than the sacra-ment and the seal o[ paschal love. The Church can pro-claim and prepare the happiness of eternity only if she devotes herself to the .relief of the suffering of mankind. It is thereby--and theologians do not seem to have real-ized this in 'a realistic way--that'she sows in this world the first fruits of the world to come. But it should not be thought that what has just been stated is only the reasoning of a theologian. To be con-vinced of this, it is sufficient to reflect with attention on the way in which Jesus realized His messianic vocation. If He fulfilled the figure of the Suffering Servant (glimpsed in the Servant of Yahweh Songs inserted in the Book of Isaiah), he did so not only by His death of ignominy but also by His pedagogy of mercy and.of tenderness (Is 42:!-7). He preached the gospel of salva-tion by "going about doing good" as Peter said to .Cor-nelius and his friends (Acts 10:38). And this good that He did consisted of simple acts of temporal mercy: healing the sick, consoling widows, giving food to the hungry, treating the poor with kindness, welcoming strangers without any attitude of segregation. The proclamation of the gospel was done in this way, and the death on the cross receives its significance only when situated in this climate which reveals th'at its finality is one o[ love and not of.power. And there are other manifestations of this. As a sign permitting John to judge of His messianic mission, Jesus in Matthew 11:2-6 offers His acts of love for the lowly and the poor, following in this the line traced by the prophecies of Isaiah: it is these acts that are the seal authenticating His vocation. In the merciful act of themultiplication of loaves performed out of pity for the needs of the persons who followed Him, Jesus according to John (6:1-66) reveals the profound mean-ing of the sacrament bf His .lbve, the Eucharist. In that case, once again, the act of temporal mercy, far from being merely an occasion allowing Jesus to speak about His doctrine, provides the climate and the atmosphere in which the proclamation of the Bread of life can burst forth. The gift of material bread and the Eucharist are not two acts artificially bracketed together; they are rather two expressions of the same thrust of agape as Paul well understood when he reproached the Corin-thians (1 Cor 11:17-33). Similarly, the washing of the feet (Jn 13:1-20) is not just a simple illustration of the commandment of charity and of the mutual service de-manded of the disciples; it is its seed. One last indica-tion can be given, one which it seems to us has not been sufficiently recognized: the holy women were the first proclaimers of the Resurrection simply because they were concerned to go early in the morning to give the Body of Jesus the care and the veneration that Jewish custom demanded--an act of humble mercy, but by doing it they became the first witnesses of the act par excellence of the mercy of the Father. We hope, then, that the importance of the above reflec-tions is understood. We do not intend to show here what John has so strongly emphasized; namely, that the frater-nal love of Christians among themselves is the sign of their belonging to Christ and thereby a witness to the power of agape. Our intention is to enable one t.o grasp that mercy shown towards all men, whether Christians or not, is the atmosphere which envelops and normally authenticates the gospel proclamation. In other words, we wish to throw light on the fact that we can bring men the good news only if at the same time and in the name of this good news we concretely show men that we love them "not in words, but in deeds--genuinely." For in the humility of their object these acts are the sacrament in which should gradually appear their infinite originat-ing source with its promise of eternal happiness. But this is an eternal happiness that does not permit flight from the suffering of the present but that, on the contrary, involves itself with that suffering in order to sow there already the seeds of eschatological joy. Once again, it is through the experience of the visible and the tangible that God slowly leads mankind to faith in the invisible; ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ 4. ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW'FOR RELIGIOUS 6 by the visible dimension of His chitrity H~ leads them to faith in the folly of His, agape." it is when seen in this light that the apostolic actii, ity of religious women of the active life receives its evangeli-cal meaning. Properly speaking, theirs is not the task of preaching the gospel wffh authority: this. fl6ws from the hierarchical function to which they do not have access. Neither are they like militant lay people wiih a inandate to take charge of a milieu and graduMly conduct it to Christ; although these religiohs women are essentially members of the laity, they pertain to a special form 'of lay life officially recognized by the Church and deter-mined by t.h'e directi;c~s of their constitutions which fix the quality of their mandate. Here we should note the confusion that so.me pastors and even some theologians cause by more or le~s fissimilating the life of religious women to that of secular institutes, basing themselves in this. only on canonical texts. Briefly, religious women of the active life do not ordinarily form a part of.what is called the direct apostolate. Nevertheless, they play an essential role in the work of evangelization. For by their day-to-day charitable activity officially done in the name of the Church it is they who assure the gospel of the atmosphere of mercy,, the importance of which we have shown. For. this activity to bear all its fruit, it is evidently necessary that it be disinte~:ested, that motives of the financial interest and of the material prosperity of the community should not take precedence over the apostolic anguish arising from love for men. Let us admit that in this matter there is often room for considerable con-version, especially in countries where religious commu-nities conduct their institutions without any outside con-trol. But under the p.retext of real abuses, one should not make a wholesale condemnation without any distinc-tions. By her religious women the Church creates the visible dimensidn of charity ~which according to the law of the divine pedagogy is an integral part of the work of evangelization. And let us add that their vows add to the activity of sisters an element which married or non-reli-gious militants do not have. For sisters are those who have freely given up human values as fundamental as those of nuptial and motherly love, of the possession of a certain level of comfort; and they have done this in order to give themselves more completely to the universal love of men. Thanks to them if they are faithful to their vocation, poor themselves and hence totally transparent garriers of the love of the Father--the Church is able to reply .to those who question her mission: "Look around and see: the blind see, the lame Walk, lepers are healed, the deaf hear., and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Mt 11:4-6). Far from being an obstacle to the evangeli-zation of the world, are not these religious, on the con-trary, its advance troops? Day after day they plough the fields in which the hierarchy sows the word and where other lay people lend support to the testimony of the love of the Father. In a word, these religious ~ire the sign of the love of the Father for poor mankind slashed by suffering. The Action o[ Religious Women and Its Relation to the Action o[ the Hierarchy O~icially--and it is told him from the day of his con-secration-- the bishop is charged in a special way with the love of the poor, the suffering, and the lowly of his churches. He is not simply the functionary which man), imagined him to be before Vatican Council II; he has the vocation of a father. And this implies that his heart is anguished by the suffering of his people. But to discharge this duty (and he will have to r(nder account of it on the day of judgment), he cannot rely only on his own powers and his own initiative. Here, as everywhere in his pastoral action, he must act in com-munion with lay people. This does not mean that he seeks to utilize the energies of the latter for the profit o~ his own projects and plans (this would be clericalism). On the contrary, he labors to arouse and nourish in them a conscientious and realistic grasp of the heavy responsibility that, not as pastors but as baptized brothers of Christ, they also have with regard to the concrete exercise of the charity of God in the midst of the needs of their fellow men, especially of those who suffer. For it is the Church as such, in the living union of its leaders and its faithful, which must radiate the paschal love of the Father. No one. can dispense himself from this law of his baptismal grace. Nevertheless, all are not called to live it out in the same fashion: there are special places in the Body of Christ, and even within the laity chari-table action can diversify itsell: in a number of ways. One of these ways will retain our attention here. It will be recalled that at the beginning of this article, it was said that all active communities of women find their definitive finality in the exercise of the works of mercy. But why is this? The answer to this question will intro-duce us into the very heart of ecclesiology. Let us recall that the mystery of the Pasch takes place not over and beyond creation but in it. The former is not the destroyer of the latter; on the contrary, it saves and elevates it. This is why all created values should hormally become paschal values. Accordingly, the gifts of nature considered in the light of the Resurrection appear as graces, primary and structural graces which 4- + + Religious Wdmen VOLUME 25~ 1966 7 ÷ ÷ ]. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 find their true meaning only in the Church. Everything human, then, is grace; and hence everything human as such should allow itself to be swept along by the power of paschal love. But in the human as it is concretely and existentially realized the differentiation of the sexes, plays a central role, and to ignore it would be a grave matter. Sexuality is not simply an exterior ~nd accidental wrapping cover-ing a common reality: it penetrates to the deepest mys-tery of man and woman and gives a positive determina-tion to that mystery. Each sex has a positive value that it alone is able to accomplish because sex modalizes the human along a given line. Sex, it is true, carries with it the entire essence of the human being so that nothing which defines and situates the latter will be absent from the one sex when it is in the other. Nevertheless, each human sex is under its own proper, unique, and ir-replaceable mode. In the man the human being is mas-culinity, in the woman it is femininity. And it cannot be in the man without being masculinity nor in the w~man without being femininity. Hence, the act of knowIedge, the act of joy, the act 0f love, the act of giving self are all in the man and in the woman but under a mode proper to each. The same is true of the act of pertaining to the Church of God and the act of serving the gospel. Hence the gift of self for the radiating of paschal love passes through masculinity and femininity. These represent the two positive and complementary values of the human through which the love of the Father sacramentalizes it-self. Man (the male) is above all power. He is power in the gift of physical life, he is also power in the domination of the world. In him cold reason dominates intuition. He structures, he legislates, he constructs, and he judges everything with a certain rigor. He likes to dominate, and his physical strength allows him to do.so. Accord-ingly, his proper collaboration with the agape of the Father is better exercised in an institutional ministry as leader of the community, as pastor, as legislator. But the woman is above all offering, appeal to communion, open transparency to the other. She is characterized by meraory and constantly sharpened intuition more than by logical rigor and deductive reason. She is made to receive love (as a bride) and to permit it to be fecund (by motherhood). She is heart rather than dry intelligence, tenderness and compassion rather than justice and sever-ity. She completely tends to the gift of herself in a con-stant care of little things, in the exercise of a delicacy and a kindness that sow joy. She puts flowers in the house and she sings songs. For her this is no waste, and she should not feel frustrated at not possessing what the opposite sex possesses. On the contrary, all this is her wealth; and this wealth is worth as much as that of the male. Accordingly, her proper contribution to the dif-fusion of paschal love should also quite simply assume this morphological, physical, and psychological constitu-tion which makes her what she is. She consecrates her-self especially to the dimension of temporal and spiritual mercy, of tenderness for the poor and the little--to the dimension which we mentioned above as the sign of the gospel Let us add that she alone can do this with per-fection: it is her charism. To say this is not to imply a right to the hierarchical priesthood which would thus be violated. Ther6 is no question here of such a right but of the assumption of the true quality of her being for the service of the gospel. Diversity of functions in no way signifies diversity in dignity. The charity finality of active religious women, then, appears to us to respond to the realism of the incarna-tion of grace in human nature. In our opinion it is one of the signs of the fact that the supernatural respects and saves the natural. Femininity as such with its own proper chdracteristics and its own special tendencies is thus assumed for the sake of the gospel. The motherhood of the Churcl~ cannot be better expressed. But it is necessary to go even further in our reflection. For by a special title the bishop links to himself this special charitable activity of religious women. They re-ceive from him a quasi-mandate, similar to that of the members of catholic action although it is specifically different. This gives to their commitment an official note: they face the. world as the ones officially responsible for the fidelity of the local church to the paschal com-mand of love for the lowly and the poor. It is, of course, to be clearly understood that they are not the only ones with the duty to radiate this agape just as the members of catholic action are not the only ones to give testimony to Christ in their milieu of life. Nevertheless, for reli-gious women this mission is more pressing for they re-ceive it "quasi ex officio": their entire life should be consumed so that, thanks to them, the Church may exist in an act of love and of mercy in the face of the sufferings of the world. The judgment that the world will pass on the quality of the local church on this point depends preeminently upon them. The bishop links himself to them in a notably special way in order that there might be assured the love of the poor which he is charged to maintain in a living and genuine way in his diocese. This is their ministry. And thereby it is seen how they are inserted into the pastoral work of the Church: they represent a chosen group to whom the one responsible for the ecclesial life of the diocese entrusts the ministry of + + + Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 9 ÷ 1. M. R. T~ltard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 charity. Hence they are not situated at the fringe of apostolic action; on the contrary, though not pertaining to the hierarchy, they fulfill one of the essential func-tions of the life of the People of God, for, as we have previously pointed out, charitable action forms the at-mosphere of the proclamation of the gospel. This perspective seems to us to be able to restore the breath of the gospel to the life of many communities that are too shriveled up within themselves and that do not perceive with enough clarity the implications of their mission. Overly orientated toward the perspective of the individual perfection of their members--and this individual perfection is clearly not contradicted by what we have said---, they forget that they are supposed to create in the world an evangelical sign within which the gospel can be proclaimed in all truth. It seems to us to be a serious matter when religi6us women vowed to charity feel that "they are outside of apostolic action," that "they are restricted to an activity of secondary im-portance when the world has such a great need of apos-tles," that "they are condemned to works of filling in for others." In such cases the question must be asked whether such religious institutions do not have need of a great movement of "conversion." The Charitable Action of Religious Women and the Needs of the Church Today There is one fact that has heavy consequences for the problem to be considered in this section: most of the religious congregations vowed to works of charity were founded at a period when the State accomplished nothing or almost nothing for the relief of human misery. In this matter the Church played an evangelical role of arousal and took the lead of the movement of mercy in the name of Christ. But today (at least, in the Western world and in the large socialist countries) the State--with the im-mense means that it often has--is occupied with tasks such as the care of the sick and of the old, the education of the young, the use of leisure, the rehabilitation of certain categories of men and women; for all of this per-tains to its area of competency. In this new situation, do religious still have a place? One thing is clear. Wherever religious parallel public institutions and retain their own ~schools, hospitals, or-phanages, it is necessary that these latter, if they are to remain a sign of the gospel, be distinguished less by the size of their activity than by their quality. Between a religious establishment and other institutions there should normally be perceived a difference with regard to respect for persons and to the attention given to them and also with regard to availability, tact, and commitment. A Catholic hospital, for example, should not be distin-guished from a non-religious hospital only by the fact that it affords a certain climate of prayer, easy access to the sacraments, and the assistance of a chaplain. It is further necessary ~that the very way of treating the physical sufferings be marked with the seal of the Spirit which, as St. Paul says, is "love, joy, peace, good temper, kindliness, generosity, fidelity, gentleness, selbcontrol" (Gal 5:22). This should be so much the case that a non- Christian who is being cared for there should feel him-self enwrapped with the love of God. When an officially Christian institution is no longer capablewthe reasons may be diverse---of giving this evangelical witness, then today it no longer has any reason for existing; and its continuance in existence is a counter-witness. It is clearly evident in our day that even in the institu-tions that belong to them religious women cannot carry out all the functions required of them for the welfare of those who come to them; they have need of auxiliaries and of employees. Moreover, it is frequently the State that confides to a given community the charge of an establish-ment of which the State remains the owner and for which at times it chooses the personnel who are to assist the sisters. This is a situation that at times creates suf-ficiently bizarre conditions. But in any case it increases the apostolic responsibility of the community: the com-munity in such a case has the duty of radiating the power of agape also into the active body of workers of the establishment. This stems from the fact of having taken charge of a milieu in order to flood it with the values of the gospel. This is a genuine apostolic activity bearing fruit on three levels: the personnel to whom the true demands of charity are gradually disclosed; the repercus-sion of this conscience attitude on the action of'these men and women; and those who are its beneficiaries. There is infinite need for tact and for suppleness, for complete openness, and for the absence of all proselytism. It is equally necessary that the community should never forget its primary purpose: the manifestation of the mercy of God for the poor, for the little, for those who suffer. In the case of a group of sisters working in com-mon in an institution (this is the only case we are consid-ering here), this situation restores to the community the meaning of its apostolic vocation, imposes on it a perpetual revision of life, strengthens the bonds of fra-ternal love, and compels it to achieve a state of radical transparency with regard to the gospel. For it feels itself being constantly judged in actual situations in the. close and common work of daily labor. And in the community it is the Church that is being judged. And I would say that the Church is being judged more in such a case ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 11 I. M. R. Tillard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS than it would be in cases where militants of catholic ac-tion work in the same circumstances and in the same milieu. The vows--especially that of poverty the apos: tolic value of which must some day be restudied in depth. .--indicate that the community has chosen to act exclu-sively for the kingdom of God and not at all for any earthly ~;ellbeing however limited it may be. In. the com-munity, then, men expect to find a delineation of the Church. Hence let us emphasize that far from decreasing the charitable finality of religious institutes, the situation in which religious must work with non-religious actually extends it: the community must not only work itself for the service of love but it must also lead others to act in the same way and under the same explicit motivation. Nevertheless, "today's circumstances are constantly obliging us to think more and more of another way of exercising this mihistry of mercy. In this case the com-munity as such does not take charge of a given institu-tion. Each sister in accord with her professional com-petence is employed wherever she finds-a position corresponding to the specific end of her congregation. Dur-ing the day, then, the community is dispersed, each of the .religious going to her own place of work. There, in com-munion with the militants whom she may find there, each sister in her work tries to be both an instrument of the charity,of God and an active leaven within the laity arousing them to the call of the gospel. Unlike the preced-ing case, she does not pertain to a group performing as such a given function in the establishment. She is sim-ply an employee on the same footing as the rest, and her personal competence is the only reason for her holding the position that she occupies. In accomplishing her work she is not immediately attached to a group of religious working at her side. She is alone. Often she is in an indifferent "milieu, even in one agitated by forces hostile to the Church. It is there that the. Lord asks her to live her vocation as a religious vowed to the exercise of mercy and to do so through the quality of her work and in the network of social bonds that she creates with the men and women who are around her. _ This is a difficult and complex situation. The religious must not lose sight of the primary end of her institute which is charitable work itself. Hence, her central pre-occupation must not deviate from this central point of a direct and immediate relationship with a'man or a woman or a child to be cared for, educated, or aided in some fashion. She is not primarily sent to lead a militant life after the fashion in which Christians of catholic action act. Her mandate is another one, although---and we will return to this--like all the baptized she also has the duty of becoming leaven in her milieu. Let us not forget what we have developed above at length: in the name of Christ and of the Church the bishop has en-trusted to her in a special way the responsibility of radiating charity under the form of mercy, compassion, gentleness, and tenderness in the face of the sufferings and needs of human beings. She must above all seek this: that through her actions (materially resembling those performed by her non-believing neighbor) there may pass the entirely slaecial quality that the love of Christ Himself infuses into human activity. This is not easy, we admit. But if she does not do this, then she no longer responds to what the Church specifically expects from her for the sake of the gospel. And in this case through her defect something essential is lacking to the life of the local church; an entire dimension of the mystery of Christ is veiled; men and women will not experience the sweet-ness of the God and Father of Jesus. At first sight this function may appear to be less efficacious and less direct than the fact of militant action in a milieu for the sake of sowing the gospel message; than the fact of sharing in the struggles and the anguishes of the other employees and of thereby working for their liberation. Nevertheless, her function is just as necessary from an evangelical point of view. She responds to a ministry that is essential to the Church and that completes and consummates that of the other militants. For it is a question of a different form of action of the same love, of a mandate obliging her in communion with that of the militants to make the visage of Christ appear in the small part of mankind entrusted to the bishop for salvation. Hence, in the con-crete circumstances of her action the religious must always subordinate the other forms of her apostolic activity to her charitable function. It is easy to see in this kind of situation the new im-portance taken by what is called the common life. When she returns to her community, the sister should find the spiritual and loving atmosphere that permits her to reground her forces, to nourish herself with the gospel, and to judge her activity in open dialogue with her superiors and her fellow sisters. The hours that she passes each day in the milieu charged with providing her the means to grow in her union with the Lord must not become for her a heavy load encumbered with a multi-tude of oral prayers and with confusedly arranged exer-cises. Neither must it appear in her eyes merely as a slack period offering a little leisure. What it should exactly be is difficult to say. But it is clear that the essential should be an atmosphere of true prayer, of simple and loving joy. The witness of charity is so often dissipated by fatigue and by nervous tension that there should be a strong reaction against everything (even those things ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ ÷ ÷ J. M. R. Tiilard, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]4 clone under the pretext of devotions or of ancient cus-tom) which irritates the sisters. And it would be good if superiors, would re'member that to work to create in their houses an unpressured spiritual atmosphere is the first service that they themselves can give to charity. Up to this point we 'have reflected only on the exercise by religious women of their ministry of charity in the usual situation of the Church today. NOW it is necessary to ask two questions which more and more appear to us to be urgent: Should not religious women be more in-timately and immediately associated with the matter of pastoral reflection, their charisms between taken into equal count in this area? And can not their participation in the ordinary pastoral ministry be enlarged? Before answering the first question, we must frankly remark that up to now the Church has been contented to ~ttilize the charitable action of religious women and has manifested a certain suspicion with what they might be able to contribute to pastoral reflection itself. Our present day pastoral has been elaborated by r.elying almost exclusively on the qualities proper to the mascu-line sex. This can be attributed to various causes: to the fact that according to tradition access to hierarchical orders is reserved to men; to the fact that in the West the Church's ministers are celibates and thereby inclined to mistrust women; and above all to the fact that our civilization has not yet considered with sufficient serious-ness what is represented at the heart of the human mys-tery by the genius proper to ~oman. We are just begin-ning to awaken on this point; and the awakening is often accompanied by certain feel.ings of revindication and of aggression so that it can become dangerous and entirely lose its meaning. Up to now pastoral thought has had the tendency to see everything frdm the masculine View-point as 'if the masculine sex alon~ represented the human or as i~and this is still more serious--it were the human ideal to which the feminine should conform it-self in order to attain any real value. Hence, the con-stant temptation of pastors has been (and often still remains) to consider religious women on.ly as so many servants to be smiled at from the vantage point of the superiority complex of the strong sex and to,be employed at.will in any kind of work; and they have not sufficient.ly considered them as women capable of perceiving with the penetration proper to their sex precise objectives that escape masculine psychology and as capable of grasping with an original insight of their own the con-sequences of certain decisions. This points seems to us to be a very serious one. It seems necessary to us that the Church be converted in this matter. This does not mean that the Church. should admit religious women to a priestly ordination as some persons are beginning to maintain basing themselves exclusively on arguments of rights to be redressed and of sexual egalitarianism. But it means that the Church should become conscious of the irreplaceable contribn-ti0n of feminine thought and that she should associate sisters more closely with the effort of investigation, judgment, and criticism that is needed for the ordering of the pastoral activity of a diocese, How is this to be done? It would take too long to treat this in a detailed and precise manner, Nevertheless, let us remark that it cannot be a question only of a consul-tation taking the natnre, as it were, of feeling the pulse of the situation but without passing beyond the stage of the preliminary. The charism of the hierarch~ demands thatiit al~vays act in communion with the laity, men and Women. The ultimate decision is without a doubt that of the leaders, a typical act of their own proper p.astoral judgment. Nevertheless, it should be born of a delibera-tion in which the laity are involved as much as the clergy in a frank confrontation of viewpoints and in a common sharing of apostolic perceptions and of dif-ferent psychologies. There is no qnestion here either of demagogy or of feminism; it is simply a utilization of different vocations and of different charisms in an at-mosphere of authentic communion. And this seems to us to be the meaning of authority in the Church of God,. It is rare that a pastoral decision is a purely hierarchical creatior~. It is most often nothing else than an assump-tion by the hierarchy--thereby bestowing the weight of its authority and the guarantee of its charism--of a perception arising among the laity who are plunged, into the experience of the real and then thought about, reflected upon, and discussed by their pastors. Moreover, from the viewpoint of kingly power the grace of orders ~is more a grace of prudential judgment than that of intuition. Invention comes above all from the periphery, from the precise point where the Church is in contact with the realism of the human situation. In this way, then, the grace of the laity penetrates even to.the inner nature of the pastoral function. Among the laity we place in a special rank not only the militants of catholic action but also the religious women who are 9fficially devoted to the ministry of charity. At one and the same time they are women--hence they can voice the neces-sary feminine viewpoint--and they are involved in the sufferings of human beings, knowing not only the latter's complexities and temptations but also their riches. If it is true--as we have shown above--that the ministry of charity is bound up essentially with the gospel and repre-sents a fi'ont line force of ecclesial action, then it seems in-÷ + ÷ Religious Women VOLUME 25, 1966 15 -b ÷ J. M. R. Tillard, O;P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 conceivable to us that religious women should not be fully associated with the work of apostolic reflection that is p]'erequired for all authentic pastoral action. Moreover, why (and this is our second question) could they not receive in certain circumstances (always in dependence on the bishop, rightly understood) the entire responsibility for the organization of the entire chari-table apostolate of a diocese? In the collection of various areas which we group indistinctly under the name "pas-toral activity," is this not one of the numerous domains where women are more naturally competent than men? Why must a member of the clergy always be the head of every diocesan activity? At a time when we com-plain about the lack of priests and exhaust ourselves in imagining the outcome of this situation, it would seem logical to begin by reflecting on our theology of pastoral action and by asking whether as victims of the sin of clericalism, we have not permitted the atrophying of apostolic energies, among them those of religious women. A number of initiatives, undertaken especially in mission countries, show that urgent necessities are obliging the Church to a profound evolution on this point. The right is conceded to religious women to perform certain acts which up to now custom has linked with the person of the priest: they can distribute Communion, take charge of the liturgical assembly on Sunday, and catechize. The somewhat "sensational" cases should not rivet attention on themselves and thus prevent the Church from per-ceiving the numerous, more ordinary forms of activity which she can officially leave to the genius and the con-science of religious women. We have mentioned here the pastoral work of charity, but the same reasons would be valid for the organization of catechetical activity (on the condition that the sisters in charge be truly com-petent and not content themselves, as too often happens, with a hastily acquired and thin layer of catechetics) and for certain aspects of pastoral activity with regard to the family. A few minutes ago we mentioned the example of the women who set out at dawn to embalm the Body of the Lord and become the first witnesses of His Resurrection. Entirely like Mary, the woman who was the first witness of His Incarnation, they are the witnesses of the silent and hidden activities of God which are, nevertheless, His most fundamental ones. Is not woman even on the physi-cal level the first witness and the first receiver of human life as it comes into existence in secret? There is in this a mysterious harmony, sign of a providential vocation. This vocation is accomplished in the Christian bride whose femininity becomes grace and salvation for her husband and their children. It is accomplished in the contempla- tive nun hidden in silence and burning out her life for the Church. It is also accomplished in the religious woman of the active life who bends over human misery to bring it the most perceptible sign of the tenderness of God. The Christian woman has the marvelous and irre-placeable task of becoming the living sign of the Church as Bride and Mother. It is necessary that our pastoral awaken to this vocation of theirs and respect it for the glory of the gospel and the salvation of the world. + VOLUME 25, 1966 17 JOSEPH FICHTNER, O.S.C. Metanoia or Conversion Joseph Fichthe.r, O.S.C., teaches at Crosier House of Studies; 2620 East Wallen Road; Fort Wayne, Indiana 46805. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 Since we religious are living .in an age of Chuich re-newal and reform, we can ask ourselves the question: What are we contributing to this movement? Is the movement likely to succeed if we merely let ourselves passively be swept up into it? Religious orders have a precedent of active participation in the many past Church reforms. They can take their cue from a fairly long list of orders who, somehow or other, were in-strumental in either initiating renewal and reform or carrying them through. Perhaps the most famous instance of a religious order undertaking reform of its monastic life and thereby lead-ing the way to full-scale Church reform is that of the Cistercians. As Father George H. Tavard, A.A., already pointed out in a lecture to major superiors at Den-ver, July 1, 1964, the Lorraine and Cluniac monastic re-forms spearheaded the whole Gregorian reform within the Church 0050-1200). St. Bernard wrote De consider-atione, a pattern of reform for Pope Eugenius III to use upon the administration of the Roman See. In the thir-teenth century, the mendicant movement of Franciscan and Dominican Friars coincided with the reforms of the Fourth Lateran Council and of Pope Innocent III. It is a fact of Counter-Reformation history that the Jesuits with their military structure and educational purpose and the Capuchins with their simplicity and austerity of life implemented the Trentine reform. This historical precedent comes closer to home when we recall that the canons regular followed in the wake of the Gregorian reform, when, for the first time in history, the idea of reform spread to the whole Church. Charles Dereine, S. J., noted how the canons regular helped to revive eremitical life in the thirteenth century,x The eremitical life did not last long among them because it was encroached upon by lay people, especially the conversi, who looked to the eremitical 1 Les chanoines reguliers au DiocOse de LiOge avant saint Norbert (Louvain~ University of Louvain, !952). groups for spiritual guidance and help (cura ani-marum). At their beginnings, after the example of their leaders was sufficient rule, the groups fell under the influence of the Rule of St. Augustine. But the choice of the Augustinian Kule, whenever it was made, engendered a delicate problem of conscience. Should the charter members adopt the canonical customs then in use or return to the primitive ideal of austerity and poverty? This was the step of capital importance in canonical reform. Carolingian law had granted the canons the right of abandoning private property in order to lead an apostolic life. A few groups opted for the new order (ordo horus in contrast to the ordo antiquus), a way of life which was more austere especially in the matter of poverty. Their option was vitally important, if not difficult, in an age of canonical reform. They had the alternative of affiliating themselves with Cistercian communities. I mention this bit of past history because obviously it stands parallel to our own day. Religious are now in a position to maintain the status quo (which eventually will die and decay); to merge with other religious groups who have similar constitutions, customs, and spirit, or at least associate with them in apostolic works (and this is a conciliar recommendation); or to forge ahead with the Church. It is essential for religious today to recognize and evaluate their role within the context of the Christian life. To fail to do so is to become purposeless and nondescript. They can only begin to reform if they knew beforehand why and how and what and whom they are to renew and reform. One of the aims listed for the present reform, in fact the first on the list, is "to impart an ever increasing vigor to the Christian life of the faithful." s Religious must count themselves among the faithful because of their consecration to God through baptism. Over and above baptism, the profession of the evangelical vows is a super-addition to that consecration . It is indeed a special consecration which per-fects the former one, inasmuch as by it, the follower of Christ totally commits and dedicates himself to God, thereby making his entire life a service to God alone.¯ The role of the religious, then, particularly iri a time of spiritual renewal and reform, is to bear witness for the Church socially and publicly by a way of life which "radiantly shines forth" and shows that "the kingdom ¯ Constitution on the Liturgy, n. 1. ¯ Pope Paul VI, dllocution on Religious Life, May 25, 1964. 4- 4- Cor~erslon VOLUME 25~ 1966 ÷ ÷ Joseph Fi~htner, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS of Christ is not of this world." 4 They bear witness by means of the vows, the three signs "which can and ought to attract all the members of the Church to ~an effective and prompt fulfillment of the duties of their Christian vocation.''~ The Decree on Ecumenism dispels any doubt that vows constitute a mere external show; Church renewal demands a change of heart, a renewal of the inner life of our minds, self-denial and an unstinted love.e If religious are to have a leading role in renewing the Church, they must be in the vanguard of :that ',spiritual ecumenism" which amounts to a change of heart, holiness of life, and prayer. One of the characteristics of the present reform move-ment within the Church is the return to original sources, especially biblical and patristic. At the same time that the Church wants to update herself, she is taking a hard look backward at her beginnings. The very idea of reform conjures up the biblical theme of metanoia, repentance or conversion. Throughout salva-tion history, both under the Old and. New Testaments, God repeatedly issues a call to repentance. What re-newal and reform we are experiencing today fits into the biblical background ofmetanoia. The prophets of old--Amos, Hosea, Jeremiah, Ezekiel --were reformers. They called upon the people of Israel. wandering away from Yahweh to "turn back" to him, to "repent." Here we have the original Hebrew notion of reform translated by the Septuagint but especially by the New Testament into the Greek metanoia. A few examples will have to suffice. The prophet Amos enumerates the natural calamities which befall Israel for its sins; and then he quickly adds almost like a refrain: "Yet you returned not to me, says the Lord" (4:6, 8, 9, 10, 11). "In their*affliction [Hosea is speaking for Yahweh], they shall look for me: 'Come, let us return to the Lord, for it is he who has rent, but he will heal' us; he has struck us, but he will bind our wounds' " (6:1). "Perhaps," writes Jeremiah, "when the house of Judah hears all the evil I have in mind to do to them, they will turn back each from his evil way, so that I may forgive their wickedness and their sin" (36:3). Ezekiel adds the note that the Israelites must make for themselves "a new heart and a new spirit" (18:31). The general prophetical teaching was that Israel, having personally sinned against the Lord, should per-sonally repent. Return to Yahweh meant that Israel should be orientated toward Yahweh and His will be-cause He is its God. Basic to repentance .was the de- ¯ Paul VI, ~lllocution on Religious LiIe. ~ Constitution on the Church, n. 44. e Decree on Ecumenism, n. 7. mand that Israel direct its whole existence to God and unconditionally accept Him in all events. To repent was to obey His will, to trust Him absolutely and be cautious about human help (alliances with other na-tions). Repentance had both a positive and negative aspect to it. By returning to Yahweh Israel would take up a new direction but likewise turn away from evil. Real repentance must be an inner renewal, a renewal of life, which is not possible without divine assistance. When we turn to the" New Testament, we find that it retains the past teaching on metanoia but lends empha-sis here and there. There seems to be more insistence upon the positive and interior aspect, that of changing one's mentality, attitude, feeling. Metanoia supposes error in conduct, repentance for past fault, and a con-version of one's whole person to a way willed by God in order to. ready oneself for entrance into His kingdom. Baptism, faith, repentance, love, poverty of spirit, all enter into the nature of metanoia. Metanoia requires personal responsibility coupled with the gift of God. John the Baptist was the first to take up the prophetic cry: "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mt 3:2; Mk 1:4). The cry, however, is more categorical because given in view of an eschatological revelation. Conversion is for everybody; it must be authentic, a change of nature from within. Jesus too preaches con-version: "Repent and believe in the gospel"; "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand" (Mk 1:15; Mt 4:17). But he goes beyond the Baptist in realizing the eschatological kingdom in His own Person. The purpose of His mission is to bring repentance: "I have not come to call the just, but sinners, to repentance" (Lk 5:32). The. metanoia which Jesus proclaims is really the will of God, a salvific way of life. One enters into such a way of life by converting or changing into a different man (see Mt 18:3). The close tie between monastic reform and the re-form of the entire Church was never better envisioned than by the early Church fathers. In fact, it is possible to trace historically a progression of the idea of reform from what concerns the individual Christian to monastic life and to the universal Church. The idea of reform became effective as a supra-individual force at a rather early date, particularly in monasticism. Within monasti-cism itself there has been a whole series o1: reforms. Today we tend to apply reform first of all to social entities and institutions rather than to individuals. How effective such a sweeping measure can be, remains to be seen. For a broad, ecclesiastical pattern of reform, follow-ing upon the principles already laid down in the Scrip-÷ ÷ ÷ owoersion VOLUME 25, 1966 21 + ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS tures, we have to resort to patri~tic writings. It is impossible, o[ course, to go into anything like a complete survey of their writings, but one can at least gain a few insights from Gerhart B. Ladner's~ monumental work,' The Idea o[ Reform.~ I am indebted to him fo~ the following all-too:brief summary. Ladner draws this definition of reform from Scriptural and patristic sources: "the idea of [ree, intentional and ever perfectible, multiple, prolonged and evdr repeated efforts by man to reassert and augment values pre-existent in the spiritual-material compound of the world." The Greek fathers generally regarded reform as a return to paradise. Baptism begins this reform because it is a return to innocence. Because innocence is often lost and because baptism is unrep~atable, reform is mostly postbaptismal, a long process of many starts. If man is to reform himself, he has to make a conscious pursuit of ends. He starts with an intention rather than with spontaneity or urge or response. The key feature then of Greek patristic reform ideology was the return to a state of innocence through a. continual spiritual regeneration. Man has to be reconditioned into a state equivalent to his original state. Gregory of Nyssa in particular, with his mystical bent, accounted for this development of the Pauline.theme of the "new creature" and "new creation." Now the question, how is man to be renewed, brings us to a consideration of the' second salient feature of reform ideology, a feature found mostly among the writings of the Latin fathers. They proposed that man who originally was made in the image of God should be reformed according to and in the image of God (Christ). Although the early fathers felt that reform meant a withdrawal from the world rather than a penetration of it, or at least a juxtaposition of the sacred and the profane, and hence relied upon monasticism to bring about reform, the idea gradually dawned that the whole Church should undergo reform. St. John Chrysostom, St. Augustine, and St. Hilary of Poitiers were of the earlier mentality. Then under Gregory VII, the idea of reform began to envelop the Church as a whole, and finally Innocent III and Thomas Aquinas extended it to entire Christendom, to the political, socio-economic, and ~ultural milieu which the Church helped to form or in-fluence. Implicit in this idea was the re-imaging of man not only individually but socially. Reforming man to the image-likeness of God was the inspirational idea behind ~Gerhart B. Ladner, The Idea o[ Re[orm (Cambridge: Harvard, 1959). all the reform movements in early and medieval Christianity. A third renewal theme, for which St. Augustine was mainly responsible, was that of the kingdom of God. St. Augustine, ,however, had such a high opinion of the Church as the kingdom of God upon earth which was on its way to becoming the heavenly kingdom that he refused to see any need of its reform. That is why he formulated the idea of the City of God which permits into its environs both sinners .and saints until the sin-ners are weeded out at the-parousia. He and Tertullian (before his defection from the Church) struck a more positive and futuristic note by teaching a' renewal for the better. For Augqstine in particular, fourth century Pelagianism was an occasion to take stock of the ideology of reform. Pelagianism represented a reform movement based upon the belief that man can reform himself and the world on his own. Contrariwise, Augustine fought against the temptation of relaxing personal effort and simply trusting in God. His intention was to strike a balance between God's grace and man's will. Reliance upon God and personal responsibility must go together in order to attain the kingdom of God. In the Christian East and West while the Church was building up, the need was ever felt for individual and social reform. But who was to initiate it? ,Only special members and organisms within the Church's body, namely, monasticism. The East and West differed not merely in reform ideology; they differed too in their attitude toward monastic life. The Greeks leaned strongly toward contemplation, the Latins toward the active life of charity for God and man. The western-minded Augustine mapped out a program of reform for monastic and quasi-monastic life for clerics and lay-people. Such was the principal and practical way in which he wished reform to be carried into effect. The monk-priests and laymen were to join together in the City of God to bring about a renewal for the better. ¯ It is evident from thi~ patristic perspective that re-newal and reform must take into account the past and present and future. If we look back over the condition of religious life since World War II, the thought strikes us. that religious institutes have been passing through a phase of de-velopment. Consciously or unconsciously, they have been engaged in a reform movement for almost twenty years. The movement seerhs to have begun officially with the first ~eneral congress 6f religious held in Rome near the close .of the Holy Year, 1950. At this meeting, on December 8th, Pope Pius XII delivered an allocution in + + + VOLUME 25, 1966 23 ÷ ÷ ÷ Joseph Fichtner, O$.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS which he outlined three reasons why religious should update themselves: For the changed c~nditions of the world which the Church must~ encounter, certain points of doctrine touching upon the status and condition of moral perfection, not to mention the pressing needs of the apostolic work which you have so widely and so generously undertaken, all these have called you to devote your-selves to this systematic study and discussion. The same reasons prompted the Sacred Congregation of Religious to summon the First National Congress of Religious of the United States at the University of Notre Dame, August 9-12, 1952. Part and parcel of the whole reform movement within the religious orders were the researches into their past histories. The studies in some instances may not have been altogether conclusive, but at least they pointed out lines of development. They put religious into a position where they have to either retain or reject the essentials of their past, paralleling the present-day Church reform which will not abandon the basic struc-ture of the Church, Religious have to decide what sort of growth they want', homogeneous or heterogeneous. To be or remain a homogeneous body, the religious insti-tute, as the schema De religiosis recommends, must faithfully retain its nature, purpose, special spirit, and sound tradition--everything which constitutes the patrimony of the institute. The historian John Tracy Ellis called attention to this necessity in his address to the Paulists on the occasion of the diamond jubilee celebration of St. Paul's College, Washington, D.C., January 25, 1965. In this era of change he advised "the parallel need of holding fast to a sense of history if we are to escape the consequences, of mere change for change's sake, of what I would call--if the term be allowed---the curse of 'presentism.' " The historical researches accomplished at least one thing: they gave the orders more or less a sense of identity. Erik H. Erikson, the psychologist, defined per-sonal identity as follows: The term identity expresses such a mutual relation in that it connotes both a persistent sameness within oneself (self-same-ness) and a persistent sharing of some kind of essential charac-ter with others. Although his definition fits personal identity, it is analogically applicable to the "moral persons" which re-ligious orders are. A sense of identity is most important for normal psychological and spiritual renewal. The man who cannot identify himself is either an amnesia victim or is ignorant or leads a schizophrenic existence. If young candidates entering a religious order cannot identify themselves with it because there is nothing to identify with, the more is the pity. As Pope Paul VI stated in his address to religious referred to above, the work of general chapters is to accommodate constitutions to "the changed conditions of the times"; but it must be done in such a wa~ that "the proper nature and discipline of the institute is kept intact." No renovation of discipline is to be intro-duced excepting what accords with "its specific pur-pose." Therefore, until this accommodation of discipline is duly processed and brought into .juridic effect, let the religious mem-bers not introduce anything new 0n their own initiative, nor relax the restraints of discipline nor give way to censorious crit-icism. Let them act in such a way that they might rather help and more promptly effect this work of renewal by their fidelity and' obedience. If the desired renovation takes place in this way, then the letter will have changed, but the spirit will have remained the same, in all its integrity,s The Pope certainly did not have in mind the ,idea of implementing constitutions to the point where they are voluminous, minutely detailed, and unlivable; for such constitutions can easily cramp the style of religious liv-ing. "Multiplicity of laws is not always accompanied by progress in religious life," remarked Pope Paul "It often happens that the more rules there are, the less people pay attention to them." 0 It is particularly irksome to men, and I suppose to women too, to be ruled by many minute prescriptions. But in the meanwhile; while the constitutions are under study or revision, it will not do to adopt or maintain "the practices which are dangerous to religious life, unnecessary dispensations, and privileges not properly approved" 10 which sap the strength of religious discipline. Is there a behavioral pattern, psychological and socio-logical, which religious can follow in order to promote metanoia for the present and into the future? Govern-ment and business have had psychological and socio-logical studies made to 'guide societies and institutions toward self-renewal. They have begun to understand the processes, reasons, and conditions for the growth and decline in societies.11 Of course we cannot accept the complete structure and dynamics of reform which they use; but they have been able to outline a good, comprehensive pattern of reform. The following, then, will be some explanation of the principles of self-renewal pertinent to religious orders. Religious orders s Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 9 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 10 Paul VI, Allocution on Religious Life. 11 See John W. Gardner, Self-Renewal, the Individual and Inno. vative Society (New York: Harper and Row, 1963). VOLUME 251 1966 ÷ 4- 4. ]oseph Fichtner, O.~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS cannot grow as supernatural cells within the body of the Church unless they accept whole-heartedly the natural (that is, psychological and sociological) dy-namics of growth. 1. A society that wishes to renew and reform itself must first of all know itself. It has a sense of identity. As religious we have, more or less, a self-image. Con-fusedly at least all of us have a picture in our minds of the ideal religious, namely, one who lives a Christlike life as distinct and unique. Now self-knowledge is not a still-life picture but a moving picture of self-develop-ment, a continual search for identity. Ordinarily we find knowing ourselves difficult and inconvenient. Yet the more we have a sense of identity, which we can learn in part from our tradition, the more it helps us to plan our future--what or who we want to become. Young members may at times rebel against a tradi-tional heritage, even if it is only the starting point of their rebellion. 2. This brings us to a second principle very closely allied to the first. Self-i.dentity is largely a matter of knowing our past and having continuity with it. Our present beliefs, attitudes, feelings, values arose out of earlier personality formation, earlier learning and ex-perience, all of which is most difficult to shake off. We are more inclined to trust tradition because we experi-enced it. Historians did us the favor of recalling the past and showing how evolution already took place in it. Historians help religious groups to achieve self-knowl-edge, and in this way they serve the cause of renewal. If religious were able to sustain renewal in the past, per-haps they can feel at home with it in the future. With-out ignoring their past, they are oriented to the future and will have a hand in shaping it. The tendency of a society with a past is twofold: to persist or to change. The two tendencies are not diametrically, opposed. In fact, it is wrong to oppose change to continuity; both must be given due emphasis, Our aim should be to endlessly interweave continuity with change. "The only stability possible is stability in motion." ~ Religious do nonetheless face the danger to-day of living in an age when the rate of change has sped up almost to leaving them in the dust. They can expand or grow or change so rapidly and wildly that it will be cancerous and kill the values they want to keep. 3. True religious see and share a vision of something worth saving. This vision is made up of all the motiva-tion, conviction, commitment, and values that give meaning to their life. Only if they believe in something Gardner, SelpRenewal, p. 7. can they change something for the better. Otherwise they will experience a failure of heart and spirit. The self-renewing religious will have something about which they are thoroughly convinced and about which they care so deeply that they will do something about it. Yet each one must beware of being egocentric about it. One little thing that he really cares about deeply, one little thing that he can do with zealous con-viction, gives him extra drive and enthusiasm. That is why long-term purposes or values or goals are so important for us. They have to be relatively lasting in order to determine the direction of change. Should they be fly-by-night visions and goals, they will not enable us to absorb them or do justice to them or will endanger a distinctive character and style of living. The mature religious has a religious commitment larger than himself. He has been given a religious goal not as an accomplished fact; his has to be a seeking and striving for the goal in an ever-renewing way. He will be happy in the s.triving, not necessarily in the attaining of that goal. Small victories will instill in him some satisfaction but never the idea that he has arrived, that his life is fulfilled, or that he can sit back and no longer feel the tension of self-renewal. All of us have built into our nature the hunger for meaningful, goals. They are as vital to our being as breathing. But in a sense we must breathe together. We can live together in a .religious community o.nly if we have some measure of consensus in regard to our goals, beliefs, values. We can come to some rough agreement among the many who share the same ideals. Haggling over details there will always be. No matter how pluralistic our community may be, variety and di-versity and spontaneity should not be allowed to inter-fere with at least a middle ground of ideals, goals, and visions. We do ourselves an injustice if we allow all sorts of individual values to conflict in a careless atmos-phere of freedom and then expect something good to come from them. Such a procedure is equivalent in economics to the false theory of laissez-faire. On the other hand, change for the better is brought about when socially or communally acquired and ap-proved ideals, convictions, goals change. In this way change takes place according to psychological and socio-logical laws. It is possible to change laws, the external marks of a society, without affecting the beliefs, prac-tices, and values of the members of that society. Men commonly live as they think; hence to change their life demands a conversion of their minds and hearts. Their life is bound to change if the set of ideas, feelings, and ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 25, 1966 27 ÷ ÷ O.~.C, R~:VIEW FOR RELiGiOUS attitudes which the individual shhres with the members of the society changes. 4. Any renewal or reform, therefore, ought to be aimed at the individual or person. He must find himself in a ~ort of do-it-yourself movement. He must be free and independent enough, flexible and versatile enough, to be open to change. If he isolates himself from others within his group, if he fails to cross-fertilize with them, he will not change or grow. Anthropologists point out that .much cultural change comes about through bor-rowing from others. Karl Rahner makes the pointed remark in his book, Theology for Renewal: If anyone wants to have the Church changed, he must make himself the starring-point of renewal. For the crldc himself is part .of what the Church is suffering from. For usually his own life is not much of a recommendation for Christianity.~ The same remark may be applied to the religious critic. We are more prone to criticize others than to be self-critical. Each religious has personality traits which favor either change or persistence (conservatism), and no doubt many have a mixture of the two. A characteristic of the self-renewing religious is that he 'has a mutually fruitful rapport with others. He is capable of accepting and giving love and friendship. Without such love and friendship, the person enters into rigid isolation. The loving and friendly person depends upon others and can be depended upon. He discovers common tastes, interests, is accessible, and is willing to lend assistance. He makes others feel important. In so doing he is one of the many within a vibrant society who inculcate mutual trust, affection, and identification (as opposed to carping criticism, character asshssination, and envy). They are the cross currents through which his change for better is possible~ 5. Is there enough freedom in the religious way of life to allow for change? This question has to be asked because psychologists and, sociologists maintain that only a free society is open to inquiry, experimentation, and action. A society where reasonable room is left for personal taste, self-expression, and self-criticism, will grow. Its framework or structure is not such that it throttles thought and discussion of new ideas. Authori-tarian or bureaucratic or legalist.ic societies may not throttle thought and discussion but they tend to chan-nel and control them. Freedom, however, has to be balanced with some ~Karl Rahner, Theology ]or Renewal (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964), p. 87. determinism within a society. No individual religious should expect to be left to run rampant, to do as and what he pleases. Freedom may result in license. Or it may alienate him from the community. A religious who is left reasonably free may achieve responsibility; but if he seeks too much autonomy he may end up with self-pride, an inflated ego, and not really fulfill himself at all. Every person has limitations and has to come to terms with his membership in the community at large. The social side of his nature should make him realize values which are grea~er than his individual needs. 6. Change and improvement usually spring up in a community that has felt-needs for them. Felt-needs are the beginning of any renewal and reform. So religious must examine their felt-needs. There can be no metanoia unless the community feels needs, and the needs have to be felt widely enough for the majority to do some-thing about them. The first task of renewal and reform is the always difficult task of facing up to ourselves. What gap do we find between the ideals we profess and the realities we practice? How far apart do our constitutions lie from their fulfillment? We have to give due credit to the prophetic and visionary eyes and minds among us who see and speak out against the unreality or even hy-pocrisy of religious life, to whatever degree they may exist. Young members, especially, who still have the ideals and goals fresh before them, can help the rest to an honest self-examination. We do them a good turn too by telling them that their task is to re-create values in their own conduct and not simply look at them idealisti-cally. We should assure each generation of religious that they have to refight the battle and inject new life into lasting ideals and goals. 7. No amount of organization, law-making, socializing will help a religious society to renew and reform unless men in it have the determination to 'foster renewal and reform. It is men who make up a society, not laws or regulations or structures. It is the personal environ-ment that makes for growth, for between the individual and his environment there takes place something like osmosis. If we do not set a pace by our ideals and ex-ample for incoming members, then they will believe little is expected of them. Of whom much is expected, the chances are that he will expect much of himself. If he is educated and motivated in an atmosphere that en-courages effort, sacrifice, selflessness, it is very likely that he will be affected greatly and respond mightily. We take it for granted that the young religious is a free and responsible individual. He will become in-creasingly responsible if we set up for him a meaning- VOLUME 25, 1966 29 Joseph Fichtner, O~.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ful relationship with larger and higher goals. We help him to free himself fr6m the "prison of utter selb preoccupation" by instructing and leading him to place himself in the free and willing service of these goals and the people aiming at them. In !religious life as well as in any other, family li~e' included, deeds speak louder than words~ Authentic religious conduct preaches a better lesson than 'any homily, sermon, conference, or instruction. None o~ us learns much from principles, but we do emulate people who are high-principled and exemplary. Ordinarily we do not analyze or list the virtues we wish to develop, unless it be during meditation; but we identify our-selves with the people who have virtue. That is why all of us~ young and old, need models in our imaginative life and in our immediate environment, models of what we at our best can be. At the risk of too much repeti-tion, it should be said that what we do communicates moral and spiritual values much more than what we say~ Words are cheap. Action calls for assuming burden-some and sacrificing responsibility. It is a summons to spiritual greatness. . ¯ 8. The danger in religious life is tO think we can progress morally and spiritually without changing psychologically, socially, culturally. Change for the better---evolution and not revolution or historic acci-dent- usually is a slow, complex, unpredictable, some-what risky and painful process. It does not happen by leaps and bounds; it takes time and hard effort. When practices change, they will not be acceptable evenly .throughout a whole community. Some will wel-come them, others resist them. So many factors and their interplay go into change for the better that they make change complex. And the complexity of a changing situation .brings with it a risk. It takes prudent analysis and prognosis to decide whether the risk is reasonably calculable. Members of a society who are "on their toes" and not living "in a rutV will forestall wild and revolutionary change. Historians have shown that long-range changes came about through successive small innovations, most of them unobtrusive and anonymous. People who lived through the innovation would probably admit that they did not know it was happening; But innovators who herald a change with a flourish of trumpets should ex-pect to meet up with attack and opposition. That pain accompanies growth is inevitable; everybody wants to grow and progress but nobody wants the pain that goes with it. 9. The locus of metanoia is the minds and hearts of ~he individual members of the community, in those minds and hearts where there is the hidden potential of zeal, dedic~ition, a sense of. mission, leadership, and a willingness to sacrifice. Members who have closed minds and hearts have lost the capacity for metanoia. For the self-renewing man there is no end to the development o[ his abilities. He is not a gold mine left unti~pped or an oil well only partially drilled. Psychologists advise us of the fact that many go through life without nearly salvaging all their ta, lents.~ Nothing can be so decisive for refiewal as the use of G6~l-given talents. Conversion VOLUME 25, 1966 31 GUSTAVE MARTELET, S.J. The Church's Holiness ¯ and Religious Life + ÷ + Gustave Martelet, s.J., is professor of fundamental theol-ogy at 4, Mont~e de Fourvi~re; Lyon (V), France. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS V. RELIGIOUS L~FE AND PREFERENTIAL LOVE OF JEsus CHRIST The* eschatological character of virginity contributes spiritual depth to our understanding of religious life; we must now analyze the latter in still greater detail. Having begun by considering the holiness of the Church (I), which appeared inseparable from her mystery as Spouse (II), we saw that marriage represents sacramentally a mys-tery whose content is spiritually appropriated by virginity (III). This insight illuminated the eschatological meaning of virginity and exposed its motivating drive, a preferen-tial love of Christ (IV). This love throws the greatest light on religious life, and it is in function of that love that our first comprehensive glance at the state must be cast--the concern of the present section. We shall examine the na-ture of religious life'in iiself, its dependence on the mys-tery of the Church, and the significance which consecrated virginity retains today with regard to religious life. 1. Nature o[ Religious Life We do not pretend to supply an exhaustive treatment of this vast subject, for that would simultaneously entail a consideration of the history of the Church, of canon l~aw, * This is the second part of Raymond L. Sullivant's translation of Saintetd de l'Eglise et vie religieuse (Toulouse: Editions Pri~re et Vie, 1964). The first part of the translation appeared in the November, 1965, issue of the REvzE\v; and the rest of the translation will be printed in the March, 1966, issue. When completed, the entire trans-lation will be issued by the REvmw in a clothbound edition. Notifica-tion of the date o~ publication of the clothbound edition will be made to all those who send a request for this notification to R~vmw ro~ R~mmos; St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas 66536. The request for this notification does not constitute an order for the book and in-volves no financial obligation. of liturgy, and of dogma; but we shall present its meaning from the viewpoint which we have set for ourselves.04 When considering the importance of virginity in the thought of the fathers, we must resist the temptation to construct a strict parallel between that state and the re-ligious life and to reduce the one state to the other. The adoption o.f this excessive view is done from a de-sire to augment the grandeur proper to virginity. While we have seen why there is little danger of overestimating its value, still a careful analysis establishes that virginity founds the order of virgins and not the religious life as such. To be sure, the history of consecrated virginity as that of widowhood with whicti it has much in common05 eventually meshed with the history of religious life itself. But regardless of the progressive absorption of the order of virgins into that of nuns, a fundamental difference pre-vents the loss of their separate identities: religious life re-quires and consecrates not so much virginity as chastity. We a,re grateful to Father Mogenet for an unpublished ex-planation of the point: Since St. Paul's day, the Church has had a too sensitive awareness of the virginal dignity of Jesus and our Lady not to recognize its exemplarity. She has exalted the charism of Virginity and has honored Christ's virgins who have been mem-bers of the Christian community since the first century. Never-theless, when religious life developed as the more or less con-scious response to the three evangelical counsels, no one thought of restricting it to virgins. The deserts, as later the monasteries and the convents, received converted sinners, married men, widowers, and the chaste single as well. And al-though virginity is a privileged state in following Christ, it is not an indispensable condition. It would seem that St. Peter had been married. We can almost say that Christ's call takes no account of the past. It draws the hearer from family life, from the project of founding a home, to the sacrifice of human love. The summons commits the aspirant to a continent exist-ence which requires perfect chastity as its normal state. This condition permits religious life to become, for those outside its ranks and most notably for the married, the support and model which it should always be.~0 Conse-quently, it is clear that religious life cannot be reduced to virginity alone. For even as the value of the latter arises ~ On this point a generally recognized role is played at the present time by Father Ren~ Carpentier's book, Li]e in the City oI God (New York: Benziger, 1959); the volume has the merit of never separating evangelical perfection and the mystery of the Church. m Andr~ Rosambert, La veuve dans le droit canonique jusqu'au xiv~ si~cle (Paris: Dalloz, 1923); on the status of consecrated virgins during the fourth and fifth centuries, see, for example, Jean Gaude-met, L'Eglise dans l'Empire romain (iv"-v~ siOcles) (Paris: Sirey, 1958), pp. 206-11. ~ Bishop Huyghe, whose writings on religious life are well known, put a great emphasis on this point in his speech to the Council on re-ligious life; see D.C., v. 60 (1963), col. 1590-1. ÷ ÷ ÷ Religious Li]¢ VOLUME 2S, 1966. ÷ Oustave Marteleg, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS from the preferential love of Christ which consecrates it, love can vow true chastity to Christ even when virginity has been humanly destroyed. Recognition of the prefer-ential love of Christ is equally important for a proper un-derstanding of poverty and obedience. Christ's call can be directly traced to His command to sell all one's goods (Mt 19:21); and the example of St. Francis as well as that of Father de Foucauld emphasizes the close relationship that unites poverty to love of the Poor One par excellence, Christ Himself. The same can be said of obedience. Whether obedience is linked with the demands of common life lived in conformity with the vita apostolica,6z or whether it is explained (as was done in the Rule of the Master adopted by St, Benedict) with reference to the role of the abbot as Christ's "vicar" in ac-cord with St. Luke 10:16: "Who hears you, hears me," or whether obedience is primarily envisioned as an "imita-tion" of Christ in His dependence on His Father as ex-pressed in St. John 6:38: "I have come down from heaven not to carry out my own will but the will of him who sent me," 68 makes no difference: in every one of these view-points, obedience is an integral part of religious life even though the present canonical form of the vow of obb-dience dates only from Carolingian times.69 Nevertheless, in its case also condition and essence must not be con-fused. Obedience, as poverty and chastity, is a sine qua non condition of the religious life. But can we say that it is its very content? The answer is yes, to the degree that by its suppression religious life would be emptied of one of its specific obligations. But the answer is no, if by mak-ing obedience the content of religious life one comes to forget that religious obedience attains its goal only by as-suring the reign of the will of Christ over our own will. Hence the organized exercise o£ the three counsels truly manifests the nature of religious life but only to the exact extent that this exercise reposes directly upon the love of the Lord, aims at imitating Him, and~emanates from His mystery through the power of the Spirit. The explana-tion, previously established when defining the eschatolo-gical meaning of virginity, should help us understand the ¯ z M.-H. Vicaire, L'imitation des Apdtres. Moines, chanoines, raen. diants (iv~-xiii~ si~cles) (Paris: Cerf, 1963). ~s De Vogii6, La communautd et l'abbd, pp. 128-9. n~ Catherine Capelle, Le voeu d'obdlssance des origines jusqu'au xii~ si~cle. Etude juridique (Paris: Librairie g~n6rale de droit et jurispru-dence, 1959), pp. 153-79, dates the juridical birth o£ the vow o[ obe-dience from a Chapter of 789; but as she remarks on pp. 208-13 it is necessary to wait for Yves of Chartres in the eleventh cer~tury for a theory of the vow over and beyond the practice of obedience. On the . relationship of the three vows to religious life see the discourse of Paul VI given on May 23, 1964 in the English translation, REVIEW KELtg~OUS, V. 23 (1964), pp: 700--1. point, since the spiritual basis of virginity is the desire to belong to Christ in an absolutely exclusive fashion. A point raised by the rule of St. Benedict in its fourth chap-ter, "The Instrument of Good Works," is of utmost per-tinence in this matter: "Nihil amori Christi praeponere," says the great legislator: "Put nothing before Christ's love." The axiom comes directly from the Vita Antonii. St. Anthanasius there depicts St. Anthony "repeating to all that they should desire none of the world's goods in preference to the love of Christ." 70 One wouId search in vain to find this central idea expressed with more lapidary compactness. And who would be better authorized than St. Benedict to condense western monasticism's raison d'etre into a concise formula? The same thought appears in the seventy-second chapter of the rule to explain the ardent zeal which monks should have: "They will prefer absolutely nothing to Christ who deigns to conduct us all to eternal life." 71 And it is the eschatological note that gives such complete fullness to the formula. It is because Christ "is the beginning, the first-born from the dead (that in everything he might be preeminent)" (Col 1:18) that nothing must be put before Christ and that one should die to everything rather than die to Him who is Life itself. Hence His priority as the Lord over all things and over ourselves--"Everything is yours but you are Christ's and Christ is God's" (1 Cor 3:2)--must be trans-lated on the level of love by an exclusive preference for His Person and by an unconditional desire to follow and imitate Him alone. Accordingly, all monastic life, as all religious institutes afterwards, crystallizes around the practice, of the three evangelical counsels with a view to assuring the rigorous ascendancy of Christ's ways over those of the world. Since Christ is completely despoiled of material goods (He "has not a stone on which to rest his head" [Mt 8:20]), since His own relationship with others does not take carnal generation into account ("Who is my mother and who are my brothers?. Whoever does the will of my Father who is in heaven, he is my brother, my sister, and my mother" [Mt 12:48]), and since He does not exercise His liberty except by delivering it up to the will of His Father (Jn 6:38), religious life will accordingly be defined as a ca-nonically determined break (even if it is not always spir-itually accomplished), with the possessions of the world by poverty, with carnal generation and conjugal love by ~o P.G., v. 26, col. 865 A, a citation derived from the previously men-tioned unpublished work of Father Mogenet. On the Athanasian au-thenticity of the Vita Antonii, see Louis Bouyer, La vie du saint ~lntoine (Saint Wandrille: Editions de Fontenelle, 1950), pp. 15'-22. ~ Citations of the Rule of St. Benedict are made according to the text of Dom Philibert Schmitt. + Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 Ousta~e Mar~eleg, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS chastity, with personal hegemony over self by obedience. This triple rupture defines, by way of three complemen-tary means, a unique and single preference which should e~]ectively animate the religious' entire being, And if man is, in effect, a relation to nature through possession, a re-lation to the other thr~ough love, and a relation to sell through liberty, then poverty, chastity, and obedience are the triple condition of one and the same preference: the preference for Christ over all the goods of the world', sac-rificed to Him who appears as the One Necessity, the pref-erence for Christ over carnal generation, and even more so over conjugal love, sacrificed to Him who appears as Love itself, the preference for Christ over our own indi-vidual liberty, sacrificed to Him who appears as the only Lord. Understood in this manner, religious !ire is the applica-tion of the call: "Come follow me," in which tradition has always seen the principle of life according to the coun-sels. Directed to the rich young man in Galilee (Mt 19:21), Jesus' personal summons is ceaselessly repeated by the Spirit in the ever present reign of the resurrected Christ: On the basis of a love for the Lord of glory alone, the Spirit founds the movement of grace that is religious life. As a way of life in keeping with the evangelical counsels and canonically defined within the Church, religious life is first of all the choice of an end and only secondly a sys-tem of means. It is a response which presupposes a call, a canonical institution commanded by a spiritual love.It becomes an institution only because it was first an inspira-tion; it becomes the letter of a rule only because it was first the spirit of the Gospel. And if it is true that the counsels themselves are still a letter when isolated from the Spirit from which they live,r2 it is also true that the letter of religious life takes form from the letter of the Gospel only by the charismatic mediation of the Holy Spirit Himself. Religious life assumes a bodily form only when the Spirit breathes into souls the soul of the Gospel. This soul is none other than the spiritual preference of Christ over all things in keeping with the words of St. Benedict cited above: "Put nothing before the love of Jesus,Christ." r~ By constructing this formula for his sons and for all of those who would hear the faithful echo of the Gospel through i(, St. Benedict initiated his followers into the well,founded hope of "eternal life," that is to say, of "the life lived forever with the Lord," the anticipation" 7a Dom Lafont gives strong insistence to this point in the work cited in footnote 7, pp. 170-83. ra On the centrality of Christ in the gospel message see de Grand-maison, Jesus Christ, v. 2 and v. 3, pp. 3-346; and R. Guardini, Das Wesen des Christentums (Sth ed.; W0rzburg: ~Werksbund-Verlag, 1958). of which is the proper mission of religious life in the Church. By this preferential love of Jesus Christ, religious life, far from living in isolation from the Church, enters, as does virginity, into her most profound being and shows itseff subject to her. 2. Religious Life's Dependence on the Church We are speaking here of the whole Church for the serv-ice of which religious life exists, as we shall see in the last section. But for the present we wish to consider in a gen-eral way the essential dependence of religious life on the hierarchy and on the Christian community itself. By first drawing attention to marriage and its dependence on the Church, we shall better understand the position of reli-gious life. A. The Church and the Christian Couple Many of the faithful are indignant (and some of them ventilate their dissatisfaction in the daily press) over the fact that the Church through her magisterium wishes to impose a conjugal ethic on them. Although there are sometimes unjustified clerical probings into the private lives of couples, this indiscretion is not the object of the litigation. The latter arises from the Church's right to is-sue obligatory laws in the conjugal order. Contraception is not the only sensitive area; problems of a similar na-ture cluster around the subject. We do not propose here to solve any of these problems but only to indicate the spirit with which the intervention of the Church in such matters is to be accepted. In so doing, we shall contribute to the understanding of the relations that exist between the Church and religious life. Christian marriage is the sign of the 'union of Christ and the Church. The spousal charity of Christ and the Church must consequently be reflected in marriage if it is to obtain the transparency of a sign. To avoid saying that Christ has not assumed flesh in its entirety, we must recognize that all flesh must bear the mark of Christ and exercise that paradoxical docility which the Spirit de-mands of it. Christian conjugal ethic is dominated by this end. It has no other reason for being than to assure to the human love of the partners that spiritual clarity befitting the sacramentality of their love. Christianity assumes re-sponsibility for the most authentic prescriptions of human ethics; but in making them both more urgent and more imprescriptible, it demonstrates the need for transparency which the sign should have and the latter's ability in Christ to follow Him. That is why no home can be more human or purer, more united or freer, more self-sac-rificing or happier, humbler and more transfigured, than the home in which the light of Christ shines and where 4- 4- 4- "Religious Life VOLUME 25, 1966 . Gustave Martelet, ~,. $~1. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS His flame burns. It is thu"s apparent ~hat the Church can never sacrifice the conjugal ethic since the human love of the baptized must reflect, even in the flesh, the sanctity which she represents. The objection of those Christians who maintain that the Church cannot pronounce on :subjects which Chris~t did not discuss is indeed fragile. Christ's sile,nce, while ap-parently impressive, is quite relativ6 when one reflects on the manner in which He spoke'of tl~e indissblubility of the conjugal bond (Mt 19:9) a~nd of foregoing the works of the flesh "in view of the kingdom of heaven" (Mt 19:22).' Even if Christ had~ not.spoken, one could not declare the Bride in.competent tq d~e~fine :t,he standards "of the Gyoom to those who represent the mystery itself. Christ. would have shown little respect for His Bride, in fact, He wohld have shown outright distrust for her and lack of faith in the:intuitions of which His Spirit is the .guarantee, if He had not endowed His Church with the. right and the duty "to.speak" in an area where the bridal mysyery which she lives directly orientates the spi.ritua! underst.a.ndin~ of the couple's love. Yet the Church's authority does not sup-plant Christ in His mystery. The 'former relies on the lat-ter; she thus rejoins the profound life of her children--a life which is sometimes resisted but never denied: The latter know that they will never truly communicate with Christ through their love if ~they reject the manner in which the Church forms and guides their consciences. B: The Church and P~eligious Life If she takes so much care with regard to the sacrament of marriage, the sign of her bridal mystery, the hierarchi- Cal Church watches nb less jealously over religious life: If in the free holiness of the married she wishes to see 'the bldssoming of an image of what they become in and by th~ sacrament, she cannot be disinterested in ~hose Who pretend not only to represent but to spiritually actualize the v.ery love. of the Bride as it is directed in its entirety toward the Groom. The Church's ~igilance over the sac-ramental ~ign of her nupti_als in marriage can only be re-doubledin the case of the spiritual~ fulfillment 9f thesd huptials in religious life. The lat~er trul)i exist~ in the .Chu.rch~.only when i.t is discerned; judged, a~proved, con-trolled, 'su~pb.r~ed, afid'criticized.'lS)i hier~irchical action, 1.oc.al" orsupr~me;, of which it ~an neither atiempt nor de-s~ re to be free. ¯ This essential function as judge" and. guardian is never brought t~o fulfillment not only because human weakness is forever prone to compromise :what gener'osity 'in th~ SpirivoHginal]y envisage~l and ~romised but a'l~o b~cause ~ov~'g" ingpi~a~ion Wtiic-l~ giv'e~"-'birfl~ ~0 ~eligioh~ life" ig never dulled and because from the flight to the desert to the ransom of captives, from the highest conte.mplation to the most obscure nursing service, from ancient Carm.el to. modern Nazareth, from the monastic 9rders to the secu-lar institutes, the Bride must al.ways discern the various ways" in which the Groom inspires her through her chil-dren. Let it suffice to state that religious life, charismati-cally given to the Church by Chrigt Himself, exists in the Church only as canonically submissive to her law. More-over, if this strict submission does not des.troy religious life but~ rather makes it flourish, the reason is that throUgh this submission religious life finds its own truth. Publicly "recognized" by the Church as a privileged "way of holi-ness, religious life understands itself as the flowering within the Church of the Bride's mystery of loving re-sponse to the Groom's love. Religious life's dependence on the mystery of the Church is not only hierarchical but is also connected with the entire Christian community. The evangelical coun-sels which mold religious life do not make the pi:eferen-tial love of Christ become a monopoly of the monastery. Every Christian--and, strictly speaking, every man--is called to this love; and the precepts of the Sermon on the Mount are directed to every member of die Church "as the norm for the moral conduct of the baptized." 74 While' it is true that as far as the manner of loving Chri~ alcove all things and of thereby entering into the love of God is concerned religious life represents a privileged state, still it is of absolute necessity for no one. Although pos-sessing a universal value of exemplarity, it is imposed only on some, and then by a determined vocation. Holiness is never automatically assured those who commit themselves to this way of the vows; and there is no doubt that many Christians remain more faithful to Christ in the world than certain religious do in ,their monasteries or convents. Hence, religious have no grounds for' Complacendy or for a disparaging attitude toward those who are not mem-bers of religious life. The person who becOmes a religious enters a state of life which he may be unworthy hence humility is necessary for him--but which of itself initiates him into a perfect love of Christ--hence depre-ciation by Christians of such a life is impossible. Religious life, then, does not exist in order to divide the Church b~ absUrd rivalries over the better and the less good but on!y in order .that, the sovereign love of "Christ may increase and'that the life of the vows may assume at the depths of it-self the evangelical traits of the Lord. Never regarding it-self as opposed or superior to anyone, religious life must always be at the service of all men by means of those who ~* Lafont, "$aintet~ du peuple de Dieu," p. 1~5. + + + Religious Life~ VOLUME 25, 1966 39 ÷ ÷ ÷ Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS attempt to live it out and who take care not to betray .its ideals. Such is the dependence of religious life on the Church for the service of which it is born and must perdure. It is judged by the. hierarchy with a view to benefiting the common spiritual good of the entire Church. Like con-jugal life (and because it refers to One and the same mys-tery but in a different way), religious life cannot destroy its dependence on the Church as a whole, whether it be a question of the hierarchy who judges it and supports it in its fundamental inspiration or whether it be a mat-ter of the faithful whom it should stimulate to the love of tile Lord and by whom it is itself stimulated: "God or-ganizes his holy ones for the work of the ministry in view of the building up the body of Christ, until we all attain (o the unity of the faith and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to mature manhood, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12-~). Hence, despite (or, more accurately, because of) its integration into the life of the Body, religious life retains an irreducible original-ity which we shall have occasion to discuss later. This originality, which integrates religious life into the Body while simultaneously differentiating it, does not suggest separation or exclusiveness. This is why its full canonical development does not prevent the possible renewal of forms which historically preceded it. C. Religious Life and Virginity or Consecrated Widowhood It is easy to understand why the order of virgins and widows was practically absorbed into that of nuns during the course of history. When reading the recommendations to virgins and consecrated widows made by St. Jerome, St. Ambrose, or St. Augustine,75 to limit our consideration to the western fathers, one receives the impression, con-firmed by history, that these women be.longed to a state of life in which equilibrium was maintained with diffi-culty. A certain kind of exterior protection was lacking to many of them, and thht "sweet odor of Christ" which initially stimnlated their resolutions sometimes evapo-rated in lamentable circumstances. By endowing Christian generosity and the desire to consecrate oneself to Christ with a defined monastic framework, religious life quite ¯ naturally almost completely absorbed the order of virgins and that of consecrated widows which were formerly overexposed to many dangers. Spiritual situations, which 75 For example, Cyprian, Liber de habitu virginum (P.L., v. 4, col. 439-62; Ambrose, De virginibus (P.L., v. 16, col. 187-232), De virgini-tare (ibid., col. 265-302); Augustine, De sancta virginitate, (P.L. v. 40, col. 412-28). On widowhood, see Ambrose, De viduis (P.L., v. 16, col. 233-62); Augustine, De bono viduitatis (P.L., v. 40, col. 4~II-50). were still unstable, thereby received a precise form. This was a good thing from one aspect, but frdm one aspect only. For a valuable diversity thus tended to disappear even though there do exist within the Church Christian individuals or groups who without becoming conventual religious consecrate their virginity or widowhood to the Lord. This non-conventual exercise of religious consecra-tion of self has regained favor in our day to an unusual degree. Many Christian women,TM desirous of living their bap-tismal regeneration in the form of absolute consecration to Christ, receive no call to abandon the world where family, children, profession, business, .and situation ex-pect and demand of them a daily, total devotedness. In the minds of these Christians the consecration of their vir-ginity or widowhood to Christ does not necessarily iden-tify itself with the practice of leading a religious life apart from the world's structures. Without criticizing those who follow a more classical road to perfection, they demand little more than the three vows of religious life to express their gift of self to the Lord. Their borrowings may also include certain organizational aspects of life and the tone of a definite spirituality, but they do not usually exceed these features. They desire to take religious life from its conventual conditions in order to implant it in the world --which that state had justifiably abandoned in the be-ginning. The reasons justifying this abandonment of the world and assuring to convent and cloister their incon-testable values (though these have not always been uncon-tested) thus permit the conception of new forms of reli-gious life. The spiritual break with the world which should always characterize religious life can operate in an entirely interior fashion without imposing a rupture that may be described as a sociological or, better still, a conventual one. On the contrary, the structures which are most typical of the world can become the condition of a highly intense though less apparent form of religious life. In all this the ideal of the secular institutes is recog-nized. The latter represent one of the most original ex-pressions of religious life in the Church today.77 Duly 76 Cardinal L~ger reminded the Council of this fact. He also in-sisted on the fact that there should not be too rapid an identification of consecrated virginity with religious life: there are persons who de-sire the first but who perhaps are incapable of the second (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1593). This was doubtless the meaning also of the re-marks of Bishop Huyghe (D.C., v. 60 [1963], col. 1594). r~ For an overall view of the matter see Jean Beyer, Les instituts s~culiers (Bruges: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1954). Consult also the same author's "La vocation s~culi~re," Nouvelle revue th~ologique, v. 86 (1964), pp. 135-57, where complementary data are given On the situ-ation of secular institutes at the present time. On Father Beyer's book see the remarks of Father Carpentier, "Les instituts s~culiers," Nou- 4. 4" Religious Li]e VOLUME 25, 1966 41 encouraged by Roman authority,rs this new state is em-barking, it is our belief, upon other realizations which it virtually contains and which go back to ancient formulas whose significance is by no means exhausted. The term "secular institutes" designates greatly differ-ent kinds of groups.79 Besides such institutes as Opus Dei which has the attractiveness of large-scale dimensions, there are other groupings whose aims and methods are more modest. The members ofthese latter groups think less in terms of vast, extensive actions than in those of an unreserved gift of self to the Lord; their way of life calls to mind more the reed than the oak. Since the end pur-sued in these groupings is less the secularization of reli-gious life than the consecration of profane existence, many specifications of religious life which are and no doubt should be characteristic of secular institutes appear less necessary to these groups. Thus, in the absence of common life, the observance of obedience and poverty is difficult of realization. Furthermore, obedience and pov-erty, even when maintained for good reasons, would imply in these groups a dependence and control which are not indispensable for the spiritual ends envisaged by the members of these groupings. Accordingly, the different positio.n taken up with regard to certain modalities of the religious life formally considered does not arise from a weaker desire for Christian perfection nor from an initial lukewarmness; it is rather the result of a different inspi-ration. It is not a question of criticizing the values of re-ligious life or of protesting the help to be found in reli-gious life, whether conventual or secularized; it is rather a matter of consecrating virginity or widowhood to the Lord while allowing freedom from many determinations which this consecration has assumed within the frame-work of religious life properly so-called ~and which con-tinue to characterize--legitimately so--secular institutes. The desire to return to formulas less rigid even than those of these institutes is the desire (and it is not necessarily chimerical) to return to the ancient formulas of conse-crated virginity and widowhood. Gustave Martelet, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS velle revue thdologique, v. 77 (1955), pp. 408-12. And see the more re-cent remarks of Karl Rahner who clearly shows that members of secular institutes are, in the Church, genuinely religious even though in and for the world they are lay persons (Theology Ior Renewal [New York: Sheed and Ward, 1964], pp. 147-83). ~s The two fundamental documents are those of Pius XII: Provida Mater of February 2, 1947, and Primo [eliciter of March 12, 1948; English translations in T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J., and James I. O'Connor, s.J., The Canon Law Digest Ior Religious, v. 1 (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1964), pp. 143-55 and 157-61. ~ At the end of Father Beyer's book on secular institutes will be found a list of fifty-eight existing groups with a brief description of each. We have already mentioned the weaknesses shown in the past by this way of life, weaknesses.that necessitate a real sense of prudence in this matter. But the present sit-uation is not entirely the same as that of past ages. Reli-gious life has benefited from centuries of experience; it exercises a decisive influence on the effort of every Chris-tian to reach perfection. Accordingly, what in past ages religious life would have reduced to itself, it can now re-frain from absorbing, allow to grow, and even protect in its own way. In this way virginity and consecrated widow-hood could regain their own particular status outside of conventual or secularized religious life and beyond that life Of the baptized that retains all legitimate Christian rights with regard to marriage. Being canonicaIly more supple than any known form of religious life and at the same time having the spiritual seriousness of a complete giving of self to the Lord in the Spirit of the gospel, con-secrated virginity and widowhood would then represent in our world a way of pertaining to the Lord to which Christians, not well adapted for religious life, could feel themselves called in order to live an intense life centered on Christ and the gospel and based on a total consecra-tion of self which spiritually transforms one's life without modifying it socially. A similar procedure which could revive in the twen-tieth century one of the most venerable but also most threatened institutions of Christian spirituality would suppose a profound renewal of schools of spirituality gathered around the great orders, both monastic and apos-tolic. By remaining or becoming centers of a profound religious spirit aiad by renouncing any control which would in any way limit the freedom of action of the men and women who seek a support that is purely spiritual, religious orders could provide an enormous service to Christian women, to speak only of them, by offering them a permanent and profound consecration of self to Christ in the world without entering the religious life in the proper sense of the word. For the sake of concretizing the matter, is it necessary to say that the matter discussed here is that of a profound renewal of third orders and of "third congregations"? Yes, if one wishes to put it that way; but the renewalmust be a radical one permitting the spiritual training that is given to take complete account of modern conditions of life; furthermore, the spiritual heritage drawn upon must provide souls with a truly profound in-troduction both to the Lord to whom they consecrate themselves and to the world for the benfit of which Christ frees them. Although these possibilties are offered only as sugges-tions, still the preceding considerations concerning simi-larities and differences between consecrated virginity and Religious Liye VOLUME 25, 1966 43 ~ustcwe Martele~ S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS religious life supply a foundation for them. Forms of con-secration to Christ are of an infinite diversity within the Church. Some of them are completely new; others reclaim ancient practices and endow them with :a new spirit. It is to the latter type ~hat adaptation of secular institute formulas for the purpose of consecrated virginity and widowhood is related. In this the approbation of the Church will be necessary; but so also will be the inspira-tion of the Holy Spirit whose preeminent role at the very base of religious life must now be explicitly considered. VI. LOVE OF CHRIST AND THE MYSTERY OF THE SPIRIT The role of the Spirit is irreplaceable in acquiring the love and knowledge of Christ: "No one can say: 'Jesus is Lord' except by the action of the Holy Spirit" (1 Cot 12:3). In order to understand the true sources of religious life in the Church, it is therefore necessary to speak first of the Spirit as the revealer of Christ. The point is an es-sential one in Scripture. After Pentecost, when St. Peter announced the identity .of Jesus for the first time in Jeru-salem, he cried: "Let all the house of Israel, therefore, know assuredly that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified" (Acts 2:36). But before reaching this conclusion, St. Peter had already ex-plained: "This Jesus God raised up, and of that we all are witnesses. Being therefore exalted at the right hand of God, and having received from the Father the promise o[ the Holy Spirit, he has poured out this which you see and hear" (Acts 2:32-3). It is thus the effusion of'the Spirit by Christ which reveals His own glorification and which even constitutes it in a certain way. Jesus is riot the Lord with-out being, in keeping with this title, the One who gives us the Spirit. The Son's glorification by the Father in the Resurrection and His dispatch of the Spirit from the Father are two aspects of the mystery that are rigorously correlative as the Gospel explicitly proclaims: "Neverthe-less, I tell you the truth: it is to your advantage that I go away, for if I do not go away, the Counselor will not come to you; but if I go, I will send him to you" (Jn 16:7). And similarly: "But when the Counselor comes whom I shall send you from the Father, the Spirit of truth who pro-ceeds from the Father, he will bear witness to me" (Jn 15:26). o The dissensions raised by these texts--and others to ¯ which we shall refer later--is well known. The Orthodox interpret them as a guarantee of the complete dependence of the Son and the Spirit in regard to the Father, while we see in them the acknowledgement of the equality which the Son receives from the Father with regard to the eternal procession of the Spirit. It is the Filioque quarrel on which we shall not delay,s° We have mentioned the matter, however, since it is not without pertinence, usu-ally unperceived, to our subject. For while insisting more than our Orthodox brothers on the eternal role of the Son in the procession of the Spirit, we mugt not fail to remember the complementary role of the Spirit in refer-ence to the Son. The point is as vital to the theology of the processions as it is to the economy of the missions,sl And in fact, if it is true that the spiration of the Spirit cannot be understood without relating it to the Son in eternity since the ~piration is nothing else then the act by which the Spirit owes to the Father and to the Son His eternal existence as a divine Person, it is also true that we risk overlooking the light which the existence of the Spirit sheds in its turn on that of the two other Persons. For the Father would not be the Father of such a Son, who is con-substantial, that is, equal in nature to His Father, and the Son would not be the Son of such a Father, capable of communicating His own undivided divinity to His Son, if the One and the Other were not associated "spirators" of the Spirit. It is because the trinitarian life reaches completion in the procession of the Spirit that it can also begin in and by the generation of the Son. The entire mystery of the Father and the Son is found in that of the Spirit who results from their love and who is their very love, the eternal sign of what can be called His transcend-ent possibility. The trinitarian mystery is really conceiv-able only because it is the mystery of a God "who is Spirit" (Jn 4:24). For a better understanding of the trini-tarian mystery, it is not sufficient to say that the Son re-ceives from the Father the power to spir~ite the Spirit un-less one immediately adds that the Spirit, spirated by the Father and by the Son acting in common, is also the meas-ure and the sign of the unfathomable mystery which en-velops both and to which initiation would be impossible unless the Spirit Himseff were given us. It was to arrive at this truth that we took the preceding detour through trinitarian theology, for we could not truly know the Son and through Him the Father, in the revealing economy of the Incarnation and of the Church, unless the Spirit played His irreplaceable role of revealer and witness of Christ for us. It is this central point of view which we shall now attempt to illuminate. 1. The Mystery o[ the Spirit in His Relation to Christ + ÷ A. Necessity of the Spirit in Understanding Christ The temptation to believe that Christ could be reduced to purely human dimensions is not a chimerical one. "Is See Appendix A. See Appendix B. Religious Lile VOLUME 25, 1966 ÷ Gustave Martelet, . $.1o REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS he not Jesus, son of Joseph, whose father find mother we know?" the Jews asked (Jn 6:42). And it is true that Hi~ human accessibility enters into Hisl role of Mediator. "That which we have heard,, which we have seen wi~h "our eyes, which we have looked upon and to~tched with our hands, concerning the word of life, we announce to you" (1 Jn 1:1-2). It is in this way that Jesus reveals to man "what noeye has seen nor ear heard, nor the heart of man conceived--what God hhs prepared for those who,,love him" (1 Cot 2:9 citing Is 64:3). This human accessibility o'f Christ, and through Him of the Father, is the very con-dition of revelation and is in a way identified with it. Not only did Jesus say: "No one comes to the Father except by me" (Jn 14:6); but He made the even more radical statement: ".Philip, who has seen me has seen the Father" (Jn 14:9). Hence,.it is evident that God's revelation in Christ .supposes the humanity of the Son who through that humanity takes on our own. But His humanity is precisely the humanity of the Son; accordingly, one does not enter the trinitarian mystery through it without hav-ing been introduced into it by the Father. "No one comes to me," said Jesus to the Jews, "unless the Father draws him" (Jn 6:44). And to Peter who had just recggnized and confessed Him as "the Christ, the son of the living God," Jesus declared: "Blessed are you, Simon Bar-Jona! For flesh and blood have not revealed this to you but my Father who is in heaven" (Mt 16:17). It is "not of flesh and blood" but of the Father in the gift which He makes us of the Spirit. Jesus' words concerning the Paraclete in St. John have the same meaning. It is good that Jesus departs in order that the Spirit may come making it truly possible to know Jesus: "These things I have spoken to you, while I am still with you. But the Counselor, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you" (Jn 14:25-6). And Jesus also said: "I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now. When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own authority, but whatever he hears he will speak, and he will declare to you the things' that are to come. He will glorify me, for he will take what is mine and declhre it to you" (Jn 16: i2-4). Without the Spirit Christ will always remain for us in the order of "the flesh" which Jesus said "avails nothing" (Jn 6:63). In his turn, St. Paul affirms: "Even though we have known Christ according to the flesh, at present we no longer know him in this way" (2 Cor 5:16) but only ac-cording to the "new creation" (2 Cor 5:17) which is the work of the Spirit. And the Apostle tells ns in the Letter to Titus: "And when the goodness and loving kin~dness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of deeds done by' us in icighteousness but in virtue of his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and by the re-newal in the Holy Spirit which he poured out upon us through Jesus Christ our Savior so that we might be jus-tified by his grace and become heirs in hope of eternal li~e" (3:4-7). Similarly, in the Letter to the Galatian's: "BUt when the time had fully come, God sent forth his Son~. so that we might receive, adoption as sons. And because' you are sons, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying 'Abbal Father!' So through God y0u"are no longer a slave but a son, and if a son then an heir" (Gal 4:4-6). It is, then, through the Spirit that the Father attracts us, beyond the ways of flesh and blood, to the very knowledge of the Son, just as one must be re-born by the power of the Spirit (Jn 3:5) if Christ is to in-troduce us into His otherwise impenetrable kingdom. Since such is the case, the truth of Christ, though at-tested by history, is not naturally accessible as a simple fact of our experience. It depends on testimony from above which does not destroy our intelligence but trans-forms it by giving it n

Issue 23.3 of the Review for Religious, 1964. ; PAHL VI On Seminaries APOSTOLIC .EPISTLE To THE PATRIARCHS, PRIMATES, ARCHBISHOPS, AND BISHOPS OF THE CATHOLIC WORLD ON THE FOUR HUNDREDTH ANNIVERS~,RY OF THE ESTABLISHMENT OF SEMINARIES BY THE ECUMENICAL COUNCIL OF TRENT. Venerable brothers, greetings and Our apostolic blessing. The Word of the sovereign God,* who is "the true light that enlightens every man coming into this world,".1 decided to put on human nature for the sake of our eternal salvation and to spend a lifetime among us to show us "the kind of glory that belongs to the only begotten Son Of the Father, full of grace and truth.''~ In the same way He did not con-sider it unimportant to remain hidden for almost thirty years in a simple little dwelling of Nazareth in order that by His prayers to God and by His labor He might fittingly prepare for His apostolic work and give an example of all the virtues. Under 'the loving gaze of Joseph, His putative father, and that of His holy Mother Mary, the boy Jesus "grew in wisdom and age and grace before God and man.''8 Now if all the followers of Christ are obliged to imitate the Word become man, then surely a greater obligation to do so rests on those who someday will. "represent to men the person of Christ Himself both through their manifest per-sonal holiness and through their preaching of the law of the Gospel and their dispensation of the sacraments. The Church is aware that it is the duty of the ministers of Christ Jesus to show themselves as teachers of virtue first of all by their own public example and then by their spoken word; it is in this way that they truly become the salt of the earth and the light of the world.4 Accordingly, from the earliest centuries of her existence, she has taken special pain.s * The official Latin text, entitled Surami Dei V~rburn, is to be found in Acta Apostolirae Sedis, v. 55 (1963), pp. 979-95. IJn 1:9. ~ Ibid., 1:14. ~ Lk 3:52. 4 Mt 5:13-4. VOLUME 23, 1964 257 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 258 to see that the young men preparing for the priesthood should be well trained and educated. An important witness to this fact is to be found in the person Of St. Leo the Great, among whose writings is found the following remark: "When the directives of the blessed fathers treated of the choice of priests, they rightly asserted that only those were fit for the sacred ministry who over a long period of time had advanced through each grade of [sacred] duties and who had thereby proved themselves in an acceptable manner; in this way each man's conduct was a testimonial to his life.''~ Afterwards both ecumenical and regional councils gave a certain stability to the ancient customs in the matter; gradually they passed laws and established practices which afterwards the entire Church acknowledged as sacred pre-scriptions. In this connection it is sufficient to recall the sharply delineated decrees of the Third and the Fourth Lateran Councils.6 Unfortunately, however, the evil of worldliness made a continual and deep penetration even into ecclesiastical circles; and the spirit of paganism seemed to revive to a cer-tain extent in the academic world in which the young were educated. For these reasons, the norms previously.laid down by the Church for the training of candidates for the priest-hood were thought to be no longer adequate for the situa-tion. Accordingly, in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries many thought it absolutely necessary that there should be a reform of morals in the entire Church of Christ and that at one and the same time the candidates for orders should be protected from the dangers threatening them. and that their personalities should be correctly shaped by the efforts of judicious educators and teachers in places adapted to this purpose. At Kome in the fifteenth century Cardinals Domenico Capranica and Stefano Nardini made wholehearted efforts to meet this urgent and pressing need by founding the colleges named after them. In the. sixteenth century St. Ignatius Loyola established in Rome the Roman and Ger-man Colleges, the former for the training of teachers, the other for that of students for the priesthood. At the same time Cardinai Reginald Pole, archbishop of Canterbury, urged the bishops of Cambrai and Tournai to follow the example of ,St. Ignatius; and he himself prepared for Eng-land a decree on seminaries which was confirmed in 1556 by the synod of London and which was published on February 10 of the same year. A few years later, a law composed on the model of this decree was enacted for the whole Church by the Council of Trent. This law was contained in Chapter 18 of the reform decree approved on July 15, 1563.7 ~ Epistola 12, Patrologia latina, v. 54, col. 650-1. ~ Mansi, Amplissima Conciliorum collectio, v. 22, pp. 227, 999, 1013. ~ See G. Rocaberti, Bibliotheca maxima pontificia, v. 18, p. 362; and L. yon Pastor, Storia dei Papi (Rome: 1944), v. 6, p. 569; v. 7, p. 329. Since this year is the four hundredth anniversary of that important decree, the memoryof the event should be all the more carefully brought to mind given ~he fact that the an-niversary year coincides with the holding of Vatican COuncil II. For by convening t~he Council, the Church is primarily concerned with"b~tte~ihg the live~ 0f-the Christian faithful by the enactment of suitable directives; accordingly she will. not neglect to give special attention to that area which is of the greatest importance in the life of the entire Mystical Body" of Christ--the area concerned with the for-mation of those who are preparing themselves for the priest-hood in seminaries. We do not intend to describe here.the procegdings that took place before the confirmation of the decree on the establishment of seminaries, nor do We intend to delay on a Consideration of the. individual prescriptions of the decree. Rather, We are of the opinion that the commemoration of the decree will produce greater good if We emphasize the benefits" that have accrued from it for the Catholic Church and for human society and if We briefly recall to memory some of the principal points which concern the spiritual, intellectual, and apostolic formation of candidates for the priesthood and which, today as never before, require a diligent consideration. That seminaries would be of the greatest benefit to the individual dioceses of the Church was clearly foreseen by the members of the Council of Trent since in their thirteenth session they gave a unanimous vote to the document dealing with them. On this matter Cardinal Sforza Pallavicino wrote the following: "The chief matter approved was the establishment of seminaries. Many did not hesitate to assert that even if no other benefit resulted from the Council this alone would adequately repay all their painstaking labor. For this was considered the most effective means available for restoring lost discipline since it is a rule that the members of any society will bethe type they are brought up to be." 8 The extent of the confidence Which the leaders of the Church had in seminaries as a means to prepare for the renewal of the Church and for the increased holiness of priests can be seen from the fact that soon after the.Council strenuous efforts were made to carry out the prescriptions of the decree in spite of difficulties of every kind. Our prede-cessor of happy memory, Plus IV, gave a foremost example of this when on February 1, 1665, he established a seminary for his diocese of Rome; and in this he had been preceded by St. Charles Borromeo who established a seminary in Milan in the year 1664 and, on a more modest scale, by the bishops ofRieti, Larino, Camerino, and Montepulciano. Afterwards, other bishops, zealous for the renewal of their dioceses See P. Sforza Pallavicino, lstoria del Con~ilio di Trento, A. M. Zaecaria, ed. (Rome: 1833), v. 4, p. 344. + + + Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 259 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 260 established seminaries, being aided in this by many out-standing persons who were deeply concerned for the welfare of the Church. Among these were to be found in France Cardinal Pierre de B~rulle, Adrien Bourdoise, St. Vincent de Paul with the priests of his Congregation of the Missions, St. John Eudes, and Jean-Jacques Olier with his Society of Priestsof St. Sulpice. In Italy particular praise must be given to St. Gregory Barbarigo who worked untiringly and cease-lessly at the end of the seventeenth century to reorganize the seminaries of Bergamo and Padua; in doing this, he not only took into account the norms laid down by the Council of Trent as well as the example of St. Charles Borromeo, but he also took into consideration the pastoral and cultural needs of the time. The example given by this tireless pastor. to the other bishops of Italy is still vibrantly alive even in our own day, forhe had the ability to combine fidelity to tradi-tional norms with the introduction of innovations. An example of this was his insistence on the study of Eastern languages, since he felt that this contributed greatly to the better knowledge of the Eastern fathers and ecclesiastical writers and thereby to the eventual reconciliation with the Catholic Church of the separated Eastern communities. It was such achievements of the great bishop of Padua that John XXIII, Our predecessor of happy memory, recalled in his homily given on the day Gregory Barbarigo was sol-emnly inscribed in the lists ot the saints. 9 A person has every right to think that from the seed sown in the fertile field of the Church by the decree of the Council of Trent there also flowered forth those seminaries and colleges that exist for special purposes. Such are the College of Propaganda Fide in Rome and the Seminary for Foreign Missions at Paris; such also are ~he various national colleges in Rome, Spain, and Belgium. Accordingly, all the places which, like so many cenacles, exist today in the entire Church for the formation of candidates for the priesthood can be compared with the tree in the Gospel parable which, though originating from a tiny seed, nevertheless grew and increased in size. to such an extent that it could give shelter in its branches to innumerable birds of the air.x° Unceasing thanks, therefore, should be given to God that the following centuries, during which in many countries there were ideologies and practices opposed to the doctrine and to the ~aving ministry of the Church, did not see a cessa-tion in the establishment of seminaries but rather a wider and a larger growth of them. This was true not .only in Europe but also in both the Americas; it was also true in mission countries still to be enlightened by the light of the Gospel: as soon as the Catholic faith struck root~ seminaries were likewise founded. Moreover, the Apostolic See has See Acta Apostolica¢ Sedis, v. 52 (1960), pp. 458-9. x°See Mt 13:31-2. always multiplied its efforts to give to seminaries directives needed to fit in with the pastoral and cultural requirements of different times and places. This area, .which requires great discretion, is onewhich the Holy Spirit, the heavenly source of all the beneficial decrees of the councils, has especially entrusted to th~ suCre/he pastor 6f ~the ;Church.n Hence, while we are treating of this matter, We cannot forget to praise the distinguished work done by Our prede-cessors; among whom the following are pre-eminent: Gregory XIII, Sixtus V,. Clement VIII, Urban VIII, ¯ Innocent XI, Innocent XIII, Benedict XIII, Benedict XIV, Clement XIII, Plus VI, Gregory XV!, Plus IX, Leo XIII, St. Plus X, Benedict XV, pius XI, Pius XII, and John XXIII. Since seminaries have been the object of such great con-cern on the part of the Apostolic See and of zealous bishops throughout the world, it is not surprising that they have greatl~ prospefed, ~hereby effecting the greatest benefits for the Church and for the civil community. It was this matter of the great and outstanding advantages produced by seminaries in the course of time that Our predecessor of happy memory, Plus IX, wished to recall on June 28, 1853, in his apostolic letter Cura Romani Pontifices by which he established the Pio Seminary. In this letter he pointed out to rulers of states as well as to everyone inte(ested in the public welfare that "the correct and careful training of the clergy is greatly conduc!ve to the preservation and pros-perity of religion and of human society and to the defense of truly sound doctrine.''12 This same dose and beneficial link between the religious, moral, and cultural progress of peoples and the existence of a sufficient number of sacred ministers conspicuous for holiness. and learning was reiterated by Pius XI in this important statement: "The matter is the kind of thing that is closely connected with the Church's dignity and effectiveness and even with her very life. It is a matter of the greatest impor-tance for the salvation of the human race since the immense benefits which have been won by Christ our Redeemer are not communicated to men except by the ministers of Christ and the dispensers of the mysteries of God.''~3 Hence We gladly follow the example 0f Our predecessor Pius XII in making use of the apt remark uttered by Leo XIII of im-mortal memory on the subject of seminaries: "The welfare of the Church is intimately linked with their condition.''14 Hence it is that We ask all Our venerable brothers in the u See Acts 15:28. ~ See Pii IX Pontifids Maximi acta, v. 1 (1846-1854), p. 473. ~a The apostolic epistle Off~iorum omnium, Acta Apostolica¢ &dis, v. 14 (1922), p. 4-49. t~The epistle Paternae providaeque, Acta Leonis XIII, 1899, p. 194; and see Plus XII's Per hos postremos annos, an epistle to the bishops of Poland, Acta Apostolicat Sedis, v. 37 (1945), p. 207. Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 261 Paul REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 262 episcopate, all priests, and all the faithful to express their gratitude to almighty God, the giver of all good things, for the great benefits which have come to the Church from the providential establishment of seminaries. At the same time, We gladly take the occasion of this anniversary to give to all a fatherly exhortation. We wish to remind all the members of. the Catholic Church to be aware of the common obliga-tion they have tobe zealous in giving to seminaries whatever assistance is needed by them. Undoubtedly, the bishops of dioceses, the rectors and spiritual directors of seminaries, and the teachers of the various subjects have the greatest obligation to be concerned for the Complex work of support-ing, forming, protecting, and educating candidates for the priesthood. Nevertheless, their work would be nullified or at least would be mo~e difficult and less effective if it were notpreceded and accompanied by a ready and continual cooperation on the part of pastors and their assistants, of religious and lay persons charged with the education of the young, and especially of Christian parents. In all seriousness, how is it possible to observe the priestly vocation from its first beginnings to its full maturity and not see that, although it is principally a gift of God, it still re-quires the generous cooperation of many persons, clerical and lay alike? Since today's civilization has greatly increased among Christians the esteem and desire for the good things of this world, there has arisen in the hearts of many a less-ened esteem for the things which will not perish and which pertain to the realm of the supernatural. Since this is the case, how will it ever happen that many young men will make a rightly motivated decision for the priesthood if in the homes and the schools where they. grow up they hear the praises only of the greatness and the achievements of worldly pursuits? Few, unfortunately, are the Christians who reflect earnestly on the warning of our Savior: "What profit does a man make if he gains the entire world while losing his soul?''1~ In the midst of the delights and the attractions of this world, it is undoubtedly difficult to apply to one's own way of living the words otthe Apostle: "We do not fix our gaze on the things that are seen but on those which are not seen; for the things that are seen last but for a time while those which are not seen are eternal,''16 Moreover, when the Lord Christ summoned His poor fishermen of Galilee, did He not raise their minds to the contemplation and desire of heavenly rewards? When He saw the two brothers Simon and Andrew busy at their fishing, he said to them: "Come after me and I shall make you fishers .of men.''~v Furthermore, when Peter, acting in the name of the rest of the apostles, asked Him what reward Mk 8:36. See 2 Cor 4:18. xTSee Mt 4:19. they would receive for having left all things for His sake, Christ gave them a definite promise: "I assure you that in the new generation when the Son of Man sits on the throne of his majesty you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones to judge the t~4elve ti-ibes of Israel.''~s Accordingly, if boys.and youfig men are to gain and keep an adequate esteem of the priestly life and if their hearts are to have an ardent desire to follow that way of life, it is necessary that an atmosphere conducive to this be created both in the home and in the school. Although only a few of the faithful are called by God to the priesthood ~r to reli-gious life, still all are bound to a life of convinced commit-ment that closely corr.esporids to the norms of supernatural faith,x9 They must, therefore, show the greatest honor and respect for .those who devote their entire lives to their own~ sanctification, the spiritual good of the human race, and the increase of God's glory. It is only m th~s way that the mind of Christ2° will eventually come to permeate the! Christian people and that the number of candidates for the priesthood will have a favorable growth. It is true that the first duty of the faithful withI regard to the increase of the number of priests is prayer to G~d accord-mg to the command of Christ: ~ The harvest xs plentiful, but the workers are few; pray, therefore, to the Lo.rd of the harvest that he send workers into his harvest.''2x F~rom these Words of our divine Redeemer, it is clearly to be Seen that the merciful and sovereignly free will of God is ~o be con-sidered as the primary source from which flows t~e inclina-tion of soul to undertake the sacred ministries. ,It was for this reason that Christ gave the following warn!ng to His apostles: "You have not chosen me but I have chosen you and have appointed yqu to go out and bring f~rth much fruit, and your fruit will endure.''~2 So also St. Piaul, while insisting that the priesthood of Jesus Christ was [greater in dignity than the priesthood of the Old Testament, never-theless taught that every genuine priest depends principally on the divine will, since a priest is constituted by[his nature mediator between God and men: "Every hig~ priest is chosen from among men and represents men in the things which pertain to God . No one takes this honor on him-self but only the one who hke Aaron ~s called ~y lGOd. Much more excellent and much more freely best.owed must we consider the divine vocation to share in the priesthood of Christ, for the same Apostle says: "So also Christ did not raise himself to the dignity of the priesthood., having x8 Mt 19:28. a9 See Heb 10:38. 80 See 1 Cor 2:16. 2x Mt 9:37-8. ~Jn 15:16. 29 Heb 5:1-4. + ÷ + VOLUME 23, 1964 ' Paul REVIEW' FOR RELIGIOUS been perfected, he became the cause of eternal salvation for all those who obey him, having been called by God to be a high priest acco(ding to the order of Melchizedek.''~4 It is with good reason, then, that St. John Chrysostom, when writing of the priesthood, says: "The priesthood is exercised on earth but it rightly belongs to the realm Of heavenly things. For this office was created neither by man nor by angel nor by archangel nor by any created power, but by the Paraclete Himself. He it also is who is the cause why those who are still in the flesh aspire to the ministry of angels."~ It is important, however, to observe that the divine voca-tion to undertake the work of a priest is concerned not only with the candidates' spiritual faculties of intellect and will but also with their sense faculties and with their bodies. This is so in order that the entire person should be fitted for the unde.rtaking of the arduous duties of the sacred ministry. These duties are often joined to hardship; and at times, after the example of Christ the Good Shepherd, they require the laying down of one's life. Boys and youths, therefore, are never to be considered as called by God to the priesthood if, because of insufficient gifts of mind and will or because of innate psychological weakness or bodily defect, they are judged not to be fitted to 9arry out worthily the many duties of that function and to bear up under the burdens of ecclesiastical life. On the contrary, there is a consoling doc-trine in the Angelic Doctor who maintains that what the Apostle said of the first preachers of the Gospel is applicable to every priest. The words of St. Thomas are: "When God chooses persons for some task, He prepares and disposes them in such a way that they are found fitted for that which they are called to do; this is in accord with the statement of 2 Corinthians 3:6: 'He .made us fit ministers of the New Testament.' It is for this reason that parents~ pastors, and all those in-volved in the duty of educating boys and youths must not only create conditions favorable to those who are called to the priesthood and beseech God for the heavenly graces that will increase the number of such; they must also earnestly do what they can to see to it that youths enter a seminary or a religious institute as soon as they clearly manifest and show their real desire to be a priest and their capability for it. Only when this happens will the youths be preserved more securely from worldly attractions and be able to cultivate the seed of their divine vocation in a suitable surrounding. It is then that superiors, spiritual fathers, and teachers--each in his Own way--will begin their work. First of all, they will make a more careful exami- Ibid., 5:5-9. On the Priesthood, bk. 3, n. 4, Patrologiagraeca, v. 48, col. 642. Summa theologiae, 3, q.27, a.4, c. nation of the signs by which it is made apparent that Christ has really chosen these youths as His ministers; secondly, they will help the candidates to the priesthood to make themselves worthy of their lofty task. The educational task to be done in the seminary, directed as it is to the bodily, spiritual, moral, and intellectua~ training of tl~ ~ndidates, is a lofty and a difficult one which is splendidly expressed by the decree of the Council of Trent in these word~: "Nurture them, educate them religiously, and instruct them in ecclesiastical studies.''27 But here there arises a matter of the greatest importance: By what special and indispensable sign is a divine vocation to be recognized? What sign is the principal criterion to be followed in the seminary by those, especially the spiritual director, in charge of educating and training the candidates? Without a doubt this sign is to be found in the candidates' right intention; that is, in the manifest and firm decision by which one earnestly desires to give himself entirely to the divine service. This sign is derived from the prescription of the Council of Trent which decrees that only those youths should be received into a seminary "whose character and will power give hope that they will always be devoted to ecclesiastical service."2s It was for this reason that Our predecessor of happy memory, Pius XI, when he treated of the matter of this right intention in his encyclical Ad catholici sacerdotii, did not hesitate to state: "One who strives for the sacred priesthood for the one noble reason of devoting himself to the divine service and to the salvation of souls and who at the same time has achieved or is in process of achieving a solid spirituality, a tested chastity, and sufficient knowledge---such a one, as is clear, is truly called by God to the priestly ministry.''29 For receiving youths into the seminary, it is sufficient that they show at least the first beginnings of a right intention and of the character required for the priestly role and its duties. But in order that seminarians be rightly promoted to sacred orders and especially to the priesthood, they must give evidence to the bishop or to the religious superior of such maturity in their holy purposes that the latter can come to a certain judgment that before them are persons whom God has chosen.3° From this it follows that an awesome and serious responsi-bility and decision rests on ordinaries since it is their duty to make the final judgment on the indications of divine choice IT Mansi, Amplissiraa Conciliorum collectio, v. 23, p. 147. ~s Conciliorum oecumeni~orum decreta, issued by the Centro di Docu-mentazione, Istituto per le Scienze Religiose (Rome: Herder, 1962), p. 726, 11. 38-9. ~ The encyclical Ad catholici sacerdotii, Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 28 (1936), p. 40. 8o See I Sam 16:6. ÷ Semirmries ~OLUME 23, 1964 + ÷ ÷ Paul Vl .REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 266 in the candidates for holy orders and since it is their right to call them to the priesthood and thereby ratify before the Church and bring to an effective termination the divine vocation to the priesthood which had gradually come to full growth in the youthful candidates. This power is indi-cated by the following words of the Catechism of the Council of Trent: "Those are said to be called by God who are called by the legitimate ministers of the Church.''31 In our own time it has been a cause of sorrow to Us that some ministers of the Church have defected from their state; this is a calamity that a stricter carefulness in choosing and training candidates for the priesthood might perhaps have avoided. Hence it is that bishops of dioceses should take this oppor-tunity to weigh in their minds the words of warning directed by St. Paul to Timothy: "Do not hastily impose your hands on anyone and do not be a partner in the sins of others.''32 In the preceding we have briefly recalled what is required in those who are called by divine impulse to the priesthood. This is a clear, ready, and stable decision to take up the sacred ministry based especially on the desire to increase the glory of God and to seek the salvation of one's self, of one's brethren, and of all who have been redeemed by the pre-cious Blood of our Savior. It will not be out of place if We now briefly treat of the things which are useful for a perfect and complete training of candidates for the priesthood. Since these matters are of the utmost importance in the life of the Church, they have been frequently considered by Our predecessors. Itwill be worthwhile here to list their more recent writings even though they are known to all: Plus XI's encyclical Ad catholid sacerdotii;83 Plus XII's apostolic exhor-tation' Menti Nostrae;~4 and John XXIII's encyclical Sacer-dotii Nostrl primordia.~ Moreover, there has been submitted to the Second Vatican Council a constitution entitled The Formation of Seminarians. When this is approved, it will com-plete the berieficial decrees of the Council of Trent and the later prescriptions of the Apostolic See. Beyond any doubt it will give a notable impetus to the work of recruiting candi-dates for the priesthood; but more importantly it will con-tribute to the formation of those candidates by the love and exercise of priestly virtue, by the study of the sacred cere-monies, by intellectual development, and by pastoral train-ing. While the norms on seminaries to be issued by the Council are awaited, We think it a duty of Our supreme office to exhort all those engaged in the training of seminar-ians to give keen consideration to the dangers which can Catechism of the Council o.[ Trent, pt. 3, De Ordine, 3. 1 Tim 5:22. Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 28 (1936), pp. 5-53. Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 42 (1950), pp. 657-702. Acta A#ostolicae Sedito v. 51 (1959), pp. 545-79. diminish the efficacy of the system of training now used in seminaries; they should likewise consider what matters in the training of seminarians should be given greater care. Just as weeds creep into a field that is exposed to every kind of seed, sb there is a danger which seems to threaten the minds of youth more than formerly; this danger is the desire to censure everyone and to criticize everything. What is even more deplorable is the fact that even the youngest are unwilling to bear any restraint whether from natural law or from civil and ecclesiastical authorities; they accordingly strive for unlimited freedom of action. It is not suprising, then, that since the forces of their character are weakened and their aspirations for the true and the g~od are stifled, their sense faculties, both external and internal, reject the needed control of right reason and good will; for they have cut themselves off from the constant and efficacious power of grace and supernatural virtue. From this it naturally follows that young people frequently permit themselves a way of talking.and acting which is inconsistent With those norms of humility, obedience, modesty, and chastity which befit the dignity of a reasonable creature and aboqe all of a Christian person whose very body has become b~ the aid of heavenly grace a member of Christ and a temple of the Holy Spirit. From these indications of youthful superficiality and lack of self-control, who is not able to foresee that in the future these same young people will demand many rights but accept few obligations? Who does not fear that because of these reasons there will be a decrease in the number.of young men who .knowingly and generously desire the priest-hood? Consequently, everything must be combated which is in opposition to a healthy education of youth especially of those who are called by Christ to continue His work of redemption. But what are the means of achieving this? The principal one is that parents and teachers must strive that their sons and pupils, especially those of the more docile and generous nature that is fitted for the priesthood, should be imbued with humility, obedience, and the desire for prayer and sacrifice. Moreover, it is the duty of seminary superiors and teachers not only to protect and increase in their youthful subjects the virtues that have just been mentioned; they must also take care that as the seminarians progress in age there should appear the other qualities of character that are absolutely necessary for a solid and complete moral forma-tion. Among these qualities the principal ones are the inclina-tion to reflection, right motivation in action, the power to make a free and personal choice of the good and even o.f the better, and personal control of one's will and one's body. This serf-control will enable a person to conquer the ira-÷ ÷ ÷ Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 267 ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS moderation of self-love, to resist the evil example of others, ~nd to win out over the inclination to evil which arises from human nature with its heritage of original sin or from con-tact with evil human beings or from that malicious and lost spirit who in our times seems to be increasing the fury of his attacks to conquer, if possible, those whom God loves in a special way. With regard to their dealings with their fellow man, those who--with Christ and for Christ--desire to be witnesses before men of the truth of the Gospel which sets men free and saves them,86 should be trained to the desire for truth in word and action; hence they must be trained to the sincerity, honesty, constancy, and loyalty to which St. Paul exhorted his beloved Timothy: "Do not engage in wordy arguments; they achieve nothing except to upset those who are listening. Let your first care be to make yourself acceptable to God as a laborer not ashamed of his work but rightly handling the word of truth.''a~ In order that the personalities of the young be effectively (grrected, that the evil seed of faults and vices be kept out of ~hem, and that the good seed sown in them may grow into health3/trees, it is necessary that due attention be given to. the good qualities which are found in the nature of man so that the work of priestly perfection may rest on the foun-dation of natural virtue. In this donnection the wise words of the Angelic Doctor seem to be especially appropriate: "Since grace does not destroy nature but perfects it, it is necessary that the natural inclination of the intellect should be subject to faith just as the natural inclination of the will is guided by charity.''~8 Still, the good qualities and natural virtues of man are not to be extolled beyond measure as though the true and lasting fruits of apostolic generosity are to be chiefly attrib-uted to human effort. It is also necessary to note that if use is made only of the principles of right reason and of the norms of human knowledge such as those of experimental psy-chology and educational theory, then it will be impossible to educate and form the personalities of youth to the natural virtues of prudence, justice, courage, temperance, modesty, meekness, and the other related virtues. For we are taught by Catholic doctrine that without the healing grace of our Savior no one can keep all the precepts of the natural law and hence cannot attain the possession of perfect and solid virtues.39 From this undeniable principle it follows that in the con-duct of ecclesiastical life it is highly important that human education progress step by step with the education which ~6Jn 18:37; 8132. 2 Tim 2:14-5. Summa theologiae, 1, q. I, a.8, c. s~Summa theologiae, 1-2, q.109, a.4, c. befits the Christian man and the priest in order that the powers of human nature may be enhanced and strengthened by prayer, by the supernatural grace given in the sacraments of penance and of the Eucharist, and by the influence of the supernatural virtues for the.exercise of which the natural virtues serve as a protection and a help. But even this is not enough. As the Apostle warns us, it is also necessary that man's power of intellect and will be subject to the norms of faith and the impulse of charity so that our actions, being performed out of love for our Lord Jesus Christ, may deserve to merit an everlasting reward.4° It is clear that what We have said must be carefully con-sidered by those who are called to be victims of love and obedience with our divine Redeemer for the salvation of mankind and to lead a life of virginal chastity and of external and internal detachment from the passing good~ of this world.In this way their sacred ministry will gain in worth and will become more fruitful. For this reason it will some-day be demanded of them not only to place all their best abilities at the service of their sacred ministry but also to forego even legitimate needs of nature and to endure hard-ship and persecution in order to be faithful and generous in carrying out their share in the role of the Good Shepherd. For it is only right that what St. Paul said of himself should also be said of every faithful minister of Christ: "'To the weak I became weak in order to win the weak; I have be-come ev.erything in turn to men of every kind so that I might save them all. All of this I do for the sake of the gospel that I might bear my share in proclaiming it."4~ This was the way of acting which was observed by the many bishops and priests whom the Church by her canoni-zation of them proposes as examples to all clerics. These, then, are the chief and principal points of training and of ~he spiritual life which outline the important educa-tional work which is entrusted to the superior and the spiritual director of seminaries under the ultimate guidance of the bishop. But added to this must be the conscientious cooperation of the teachers of the various courses who should seek the full development and perfecting of the intellectual powers of the seminarians. From such a cooperative and harmonious endeavor intel-ligently carried out by the superiors and the teachers of a seminary, there will follow the great benefit of a complete education for the seminarians. In this way seminarians will achieve a level of attainment that will not only develop them as human beings and as Christians but specifically as priests who must be completely imbued with the light of revelation, 40See Col 3:17; 1 Cor 13:1-3. 41 1 Cor 9:22-3. ÷ ÷ ÷ VOLUME 23, 1964 ,?.69 Paul VI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the special work of which is to see to it that the priest "is a perfect, man of God ready for every good work.''e It is good here to recall the statement of St. John Ghrysostom: "It is necessary that the character of a priest be like the light that brightens the entire world.''~8 With regard to the intellectual attainments of the clergy, there must be had a competent knowledge of languages, especially of Latin particularly in the case of those who be-long to the Latin rite. History, the physical sciences, mathe-matics, gedgraphy, and the arts should be known by clerics to the same extent as they are known by educated persons of the nation in which they live. But the greatest intellectual riches of the priest are to be found in the human and Christian wisdom that results from a solid and clear training in philosophy and theology according to the spirit, doctrine, and principles of St. Thomas and in a careful and complete. accord with divinely revealed truth and the directives of the Church's teaching. Such a training is given or comple-mented by the following subjects: scriptural exegesis accord-ing to the methods and norms of Catholic interpretation, the sacred liturgy, sacred music, canon law, Church history, archaeology, patrology, the history of dogma, ascetical and mystical theology, hagiography, sacred eloquence, the fine arts, and so forth. As the seminarian comes closer to major orders and in the first years after his ordination to the priesthood, emphasis should be placed on that part of theology which is called pastoral. Every care should be taken that he have an ever more active part in the life of his diocese including divine worship, catechetical teaching, and the stimulation and con-tinuance of apostolic work. In this way the future pastor of souls will gradually come to an early knowledge of his role and duties and will be able to equip himself for it in an adequate and fitting way. And in this matter it will be a great advantage to him to. have a knowledge and training in Gregoiian chant and in sacred polyphony. Then he will be able to give all his studies a single purpose and to direct. all his activity to the salvation of souls in the conviction that all his effort Should aim at .the coming of the kingdom of Christ and of God according to the advice of St. Paul: "All things are yours, you are Christ's, and Christ is God's.''~4 The more that the men of today seem to forget that all things belong to God, so much the more must the priest shine forth in the world as "another Christ"and as "a man of God.''~5 Holiness, then, and knowledge must be the marks of the one who is called by God to be the preacher and the minister of the Word of God, the Redeemer of all men. This holiness, Tim 3:17. On the Priesthood, bk. 6, n. 4, Patrologia graeca, v. 48, col. 681. Cot 3:22-3. Tim 6:11. We insist, must be outstanding, excelling that of the laity and of non-clerical religious; for the Angelic Doctor tells us: "If a religious is without orders," then it is clear that the pre-eminence of orders excels, in point of digni~y, because by holy orders a person is deputed for th~ highest service in which Christ Himself is served in the sacrament of the altar.''46 Accordingly, the life of a seminarian must be distinguished by a fervent devotion to the Holy Eucharist since he hopes one day to be the consecrator and the dis-penser of this sacrament. To this devotion to the Body and Blood of Christ it is proper to add the other forms of devo-tion that are especially consonant with it; namely, devotion to the Holy Name of Christ and to His Sacred Heart. As We come to the end of Our exhortation, We wish in a spirit of fatherly charity to extend Our congratulations to all of both clergies whowork zealously and generously for the recruitment and training of candidates for the priesthood. Our special praise goes out to those who perform these duties in regions where there is a serious lack of priests and where those who prepare candidates for the priesthood must undergo great difficulties and frequently expose themselves to danger. We also wish to congratulate those who, following the exhortations and directives of the Sacred Congregation of Seminaries, strive through writing and through meetings to bring the training of seminarians into closer accord with the needs of various times and places and with the progress that has been made in the field of education, while always respecting the purpose and nature of the sacred priesthood. This way of acting is a significant contribution to the welfare and honor of the Church. At last, beloved sons, We come to you who are living in seminaries under the motherly eyes of the Queen of the Apostles as the Apostles themselves once were in the Cenacle. You are diligently preparing yourselves for the reception of a power that exceeds all human measure~the power to consecrate the Body and Blood of Christ and the power to forgive sins. You are likewise preparing yourselves for the Holy Spirit's abundant outpouring of grace which will make you more ready for a worthy performance of "the ministry of reconciliation.''47 To you We repeat the words of the Apostle: "Let each one persevere in the vocation to which he has been called.''4s Those who wish to work for the salvation of men. in closest union with Christ and who wish to win for themselves a shining crown of eternal glory must respond to the divine call with the fullest docility and the most constant Obedience. Have a heartfelt esteem for the marvelous gift of God to 46 Summa theologiae,'2-2, q.184, a.8, c. 472 Cor. 5:18. ~8 1 Cor 7:20. ÷ ÷ ÷ Seminaries VOLUME 23, 1964 you, and from the days of your youth "serve in joy and exultation.''49 Finally, venerable brethren, We exhort you and express to you Our earnest wish that the suggestions We have set down here out of love of the Church be carried out as far as possible by you in your dioceses, in the flocks entrusted to you, and especially among your seminarians. The witness to Our wish will be Our apostolic blessing which We give in a fatherly spirit to each one of you. Given at Rome at St. Peter's on the feast of St. Charles Borromeo, November 4, 1963, the first year of Our pontifi-cate. PAUL VI See Ps 99 "~. ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Vl REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS V. WALGRAVE, O.P. The Contemplative Vocation of Active Monastic Orders Introduction The* following considerations had their origin not only in a personal facing of the problem but also in numerous conversations with members of other orders. The author has had the opportunity to ascertain that the problem of the so-called "mixed life" is being raised everywhere and in almost identical terms,r Religious everywhere are looking for * This is a translation of a revision of the article, "L'avenir des ordres actifs A base monastique par rapport A leur vocation contempla-tive," which appeared in Supplement de la vie spirituelle, n. 65, May, 1963, pp. 206-33. It" is translated by Cronan Regan, C.P., lector of dogmatic theology, Saint Ann's Monastery; 1239 Saint Ann Street; Scranton, Pennsylvania 18504. 1Throughout this article the reader will meet the expression, "mixed life," in a sense that is not quite universally accepted. Among orders of the modern type, by the term "mixed life" is meant the state of all those who lead an intense life of prayer and meditation which overflows into an apostolic life strictly ~.o-called (that is, the ministry of the word, administration of the sacraments, and so forth), with no concern for the kind of means used to preserve or express the life of prayer. By this notion they intend to align them-selves with St. Thomas. However, the latter does not use the term "mixed life." He even refuses (and in this he differs from the more recent conception) to consider as a third kind of "life" the combination of the contemplative life and the active life. Among the apostolic orders which have a monastic foundation, almost all born during the Middle Ages, the use of the term, which they actually borrow from the school of Suarez, is ordinarily limited to the kind of life proper to them: an apostolic life emanating from a contemplative life which is organized after the fashion of strictly contemplative orders. And, ordinarily, they do not speak of a third life but only of a combination of two lives, contemplative and active, the former being the foundation and principle of the whole. In practice, the expression "mixed life" has fallen into disuse. If we now avail ourselves of this situation to use the term in our own way, and especially in its second meaning, it is only because ofa terminologi- Father V, Wal-grave, O.P., is prior of the Dominican Community at Ter-urenlaan 221; Brus-sels 15, Belgium. VOLUME 23, 1964 273 a clarification of the principles and a sharper understanding of the specific difficulties caused by the changes which the sudden evolution of our divilization has brought about. We should not be surprised that the crisis of growth presently running through the life of the Church is also affecting the old religious orders. In these orders too we witness a groping like that of an army which has' lost its way, which gradually finds itself placed in an entirely strange climate, having to live on a newnourishment, forced to face practical problems heretofore unknown. Thus, the religious orders, and in particular those whose religious life is con-ceived as basically monastic, feel that they are coming to grips with a mentality which, at first sight, appears in-compatible with their way of life. They have experienced the infiltration of ideas conceived in a perspective which is foreign to their traditional thought. They find themselves confronting problems which were undreamed of in their founders' day. History shows us that, in its first phase, the spontaneous reaction to such a sudden transition always has a somewhat incoherent character. Very quickly, under the pressure of the general unrest which flows from it, there comes to the fore a liberty of thought and expression which is often disconcerting but which nevertheless seems indispensable in order to clarify the situation and find once again unity of direction. These few pages claim to be no more than a modest contribution to the common effort of seeking light. Certainly the theme is a delicate one, and normally we would hesitate to treat it in public. But this problem is like many others that concern the intimate life of the Church : in the atmosphere of the Council it has been carried to the forum of the Christian conscience, becoming the object of public debate. At this moment in history, we can no longer permit ourselves the luxury of a discreet treatment of long duration. We have to face it in all liberty and frankness. And our conviction that the orders in question, have an irreplaceable role in the life of the Church compels us to meet this challenge squarely. L We Must Choose ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 274 It is undeniable that in spite of the strong tradition which has always animated them, most of the old orders practicing the life which we call mixed at present lack confidence in the contemplative aspect of their vocation. Often the con-cM poverty. As a matter of fact, in spite of its insufficiency, we cannot find a better term to designate this very precise reality: the combina-tion of an apostle's life with a monastic type of life. Let us add that we are abstracting, and we do so designedly, from any discussion of the distinction or the relative dignity of the "states of life" which could influence the use of this expression. Hence, we use the term in a strictly pragmatic way. templative practice is so inferior to the formula which the proposed life promises that the need for honesty and authen-ticity, so pressing in our day, demands that we abandon this fundamental inconsistency as soon as possible. These are our. only choices: either return to an apostolic life t~ruly based on a real contemplative life; or renounce, purely and simply, the pretense of leading a mixed life. This latter action implies the abolition of monastic observance. General Conditions Jor Revival If we really choose an integral return to the mixed life, we must first of all, in view .of the present crisis, clarify the situation in the light of the original end of the order as well as in that of the fundamental ideas of the present evolution of civilization. Thus we will be able to cethink and, if neces-sary, to revise the choice of means. The return to the primi-tive ideal aims, first of all, at the major components of the mixed life and the ideal proper to the individual order; only after that, and in a conditional manner, at the particular details and observances. AdaptatiOn to modern conditions has no value in itself. Its influence will be salutary only in so far as it facilitates a return to the authentic ideal of the order and effectiveness in the accomplishment of its specific mission. All this effort of revival will bear fruit only if it is inspired by a lived experience ~f the mixed life end if it is guided by a concern for keeping an effective apostolate united to a contemplative attitude which is more than just theoretical.2 A Specific Vocation One of the reasons why our contemporaries rarely get deeply involved in the mixed life is that they are too little conscious of the important role that the contemplati+e apostle fills in the total picture of the care of souls. This is why the revitalization of this life must be made on the general level of the Church, particularly by revealing it as one of the very first needs of the Christian community. Whereas the members of active orders often carry on their apostolic activity in the concrete context of secular life, prepared to perform within it their important and very specialized tasks, the religious who live the mixed life (while they too are in direct contact with the world about them) have, before all else, the task of drawing the faithful to a 2 By "contemplative attitude" we mean that psychological attitude of complete receptivity to the word of God which the contemplative life (the organization of a well determined life which finds a communal expression in contemplative orders) seeks to guarantee and whose purpose is to open the soul to the graces of prayer. Among these graces we single out contemplation strictly so-called: that prayerful and simplified gaze which rests in the loving contemplation of God through His mysteries and in His works. ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 275 spiritual recollection in the world of faith. By their study, by their apostolate, they are to strive, above all else, to safeguard the gospe! inspiration of the Christian life in all its intensity. By their contemplative spirit they are to radiate in the world an atmosphere ~f spiritual, peace Which allows a man to disengage himself from his extreme activism and the "cult of efficiency" which so often affects religion. Based on a Paradox The mixed life is founded on a paradox. As St. Thomas shows in his Treatise on the States of L~e, it is precisely because of a concern for the apostolic end that one takes care of the contemplative life above all. This means that the community life itself must be conceived of in such a way that the apostle, coming home from a very intense ministry, will return each time into an atmosphefe which easily leads him to dwell in mind and heart in the realities of faith. In addition to the vows of religion, this atmosphere results especially from the following elements: the symbolic and rhythmic expression Of communal prayer, a style of life motivated by the desire of living consciously in the presence of God (that is, religious customs, architecture and decor, ~lothing, and so forth), a horarium dominated by this same concern, continual silence and the practice of private prayer which is not prescribed, exterior and interior distance (relative, it is true) from what is current and passing, a certain austerity of life which tends to free the soul for divine things. In brief, this mixed life involves a measure of monastic life.3 A person can hardly maintain this mixed life and its monastic elements for very long nor live it in a fruitful manner unless he really believes that this formula of life has an immediate practical value. At present it is precisely this belief that is missing. We find a magnificent theory (conteraplari et contemplata aliis tradere), but too often the practice is sterile and without conviction. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Ambivalence of the Monastic Element Like the vows of religion and the forms of austerity, the different elements of the monastic life reveal an important ambivalence. Choral prayer, strict silence, a symbolic style of expression, and so on contribute to the flowering of the Christian life and the apostolate only to the degree that they 3 The expression "monastic life" is taken here in the broad sense. That is to say, it does not refer exclusively to monks strictly so-called but to all religious who have in common with them their traditional forms of life, such as we have just enumerated. In this sense one can say that the canons regular and the members of the so-called mendicant orders lead a monastic life, though simplified. However, apart from the Carmelites and in some degree the Hermits of St. Augustine also, none of these orders is really born from monasticism. have been assimilated in a spirit of humble love, completely free from any naturalistic compromise. If observed only in their externals and without a respectful submission, they will hinder spiritual development. On the other hand, a fidelity that is egocentric and perfectionist will seriously threaten the authenticity of this spiritual development and, at the same time, the psychic balance of the person. In each of these cases, the practice of the mixed life will be really disadvantageous to the apostolate: it will limit its quantity without increasing its value. Consequently, we should not be surprised if, in our day, we often find that the renunciation of the effective practice of the mixed life and of the practices of austerity which it implies renders the spiritual life more vibrant and the apostolate more fruitful. But the cause of the spiritual slackening which was experienced earlier is to be found not in the monastic life as such but in the way in which it was undertaken, in the lack of receptivity and of humble respect for those things that are ritual or for observance. Ambivalence of the Apostolic Element A similar ambivalence affects the apostolate with regard to its bearing on the contemplative life, If the apostolate of a religious is animated primarily by his need for activity and personal fulfillment .or if it is dictated almost wholly by a secular messianism (whether or not associated with Christian dogma), it will inevitably end by making his return to the monastic atmosphere unbearable. On the contrary, any apostolate worthy of the name will ultimately lead the soul of the apostle into intimacy with God. His return to the monastery will be experienced as a return into a world conformed to his proper state of soul, and hence as a refreshment. It is understandable that at the same time as the mixed orders are searching for a new equilibrium within a civiliza-tion which has profoundly changed, the superiors are particularly concerned with safeguarding the atmosphere of the monastery and the recollection of the religious from an unbridled activism. But the fear of a committed and intense apostolate indicates just as basic a misunde~:standing of the mixed life. For it is an oversimplification to consider that those religious who very rarely leave the confines of their cloister are better religious. If the religious return spiritually weakened by their contact with the world, it means that their formation in the life of prayer and monastic practice was miscarried. This unfortunate development explains a good number of conflicts which find the superior, who is concerned with guaranteeing the authenticity of the conventual life, in opposition to religious who are animated with a sincere apostolic zeal. 4- 4- 4- Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 ÷ ÷ V. Walgrove, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 278 The Monastic Renaissance osf the Nineteenth Century We cannot understand the roots, of the present crisis unless we consider the renaissance of monastic life in the last centm'y. Indeed, it is in studying the nineteenth centu.ry that one finds that the causes we have just enumerated are already at work. An egocentric and subjective sensibility inherited from the. proud humanism of the l~enaissance continued to determine the cultural climate of this century. Even the monks, in spite of ~he thoroughly dogmatic em-phasis which characterizes their liturgical piety, in .spite of their expressed desire to deliver themse!ves unreservedly to the influences of grace, were not able sufficiently to avoid being contaminated by this tendency toward serf-fulfill-ment-- ordinarily, of course, under the form of a religious perfectionism. Now, an egocentricity of self-fulfillment easily leads to a fundamental cleavage in the way we experience reality: on the one hand there is an exclusively rational and artificial taking over of elements that can hardly succeed in giving flesh to the original vital movement; and on the other hand there is a pampered sentimentalism (?eligious romanti-cism!) which keeps affectivity and feeling from really becoming interior and personal. It follows from all this. that the religious orientation' was able only feebly to express itself in the symbolic language of the monastic structure, Also, the combination of a cult of the medieval past with the perfectionism already mentioned led the restoration to embrace the conventual observances of the preceding periods in a manner that was too rigid. Hence, despite the Christian grandeur of the renewal of the old orders, despite the holiness and magnanimity of the restorers, the latter were not able to prevent the slide towards a practice of monastic prescriptions that was too little authentic, and hence formalistic. One became very "observant," but rarely contemplative. Distance from the world brought with it an apostolic absence from the world. And, .alongside a way of life that was obviously severe there was often pro-vision for a number of bourgeois satisfactions. In these conditions, it is understandable that sometimes fidelity to the constitutions had already been very hesitant and defective.This would be the case especially in the outlying provinces or among peoples whose thinking lends itself less readily to formalism or to an ideal tinged with romanticism and conceived apart from real needs. This artificiality will have as its consequence that at a given moment many elements of monastic life, and even the very ideal of it, will be experienced as alien elements, as con-tinually burdensome. A crisis manifests itself, one that brings the very existence of the order itseff into question. The Contemporary Reaction The reaction against the exaggerations and illusions of this preceding period, has led us. to an ambiguous position, one from which we must ha~en to free ourselves. The resolute character of this 'reaction is explained by the fact that it is the fruit of a real life experience. This is the case not only among the young who, because of the coinci-deiace of several factors, have never had the opportunity of identifying themselves very deeply with the traditional observances but also among a number of older men who are still conscious of that period when traditions were. never questioned in a critical manner. Indeed, among the spokes-men for the "modernizing" trend we find some religious who were first generously engaged in the way of the "strict .observance." But, not having been able to escape from the influence of a climate of observance which is perfectionist and consequently formalistic, they have experienced in themselves all the narrow-mindedness and all the danger of lack of balance that this sort of thing can bring with it. In the end, it is the desire for a truer Christianity and a freer apostolic spirit which leads them to reject expressly several elements which .are indispensable to a contemplative way of life. But, what is more important, this same trend has plainly been influenced by deviations characteristic of our age: whereas formerly the temper of the age affected religious life only in an unconscious or unacknowledged way, the contemporary generation tends consciously to identify itself with modern aspirations, espousing them even in those things which are incompatible and unassimilable from the religious point of view. Thus, in appealing to the essential (the end), to the functional (the means), and to the authentic (the intention), it turns back on the recent past as ,bearing in itself the proof of the ineffectiveness, religious or apostolic, of much of the traditional "media" of the mixed life, How-ever, this generation does not note that the partial failure of the restoration is bound up with the precise fact that there was too much of a concession to the unrecognized influence of those same too-human evaluations which, in our day, are drivingus to eliminate essential elements of the mixed life. (It is true that since then important changes have been produced in western humanism: thus communal anthropocentrism has replaced individualistic anthro-pocentrism.) The conditioning of a person by the temper of his age leads to another regrettable consequence: that is, an inability to be mov(d by strictly ~eligious values and to be resonant to their proper modes of expression. This phenomenon springs in part from a too earthbound humanism, with which so many persons who desire to belong to God are ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 279 imbued--at least on the level of their automatic and un-controlled keactions. On the level of affectivity, these persons are in a "closed" situation which, in great part, paralyzes in advance every self-offering movement towards the trans-cendent world of the divine and, by the same token, all commitment. A Contemplative Renewal? For some time now a general trend in favor of the con-templative spirit and life has manifested itself almost all over the world. Not on!y do the multiplication of contempla-tive monasteries (especially in countries which are better off materially) or the monastic revival which is springing up in every diverse Protestant milieu bear witness to this, but also the ever increasing number of studies on the subject :. biblical, historical, and theological studies which treat especially the .essence of the religious life, the original con-ception of monastic life, and its function in the ChmZch. + 4- 4- V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 280 After the Wave of "Liberation" It is true that up to now a general movement of liberation and of return to authenticity dominates the forward moving wing of the Church to the practical exclusion of every other consideration. It is true that this same movement very much holds the attention of the old orders, which are also preoc-cupied with freeing themselves from all formalism and with not living shut up within themselves. But, once this move-ment has achieved a certain level of maturity, the contem-plative or mixed life will very quickly appear to the Christian elite as an ecclesial task of the.highest importance, In fact, when one stops to consider the very secular perspective in which a number of Christians grasp the great ideas of our epoch (such as: authenticity of life, the reasser-tion of effective values, the communal ideal, "cosmic prog-ress"), we must indeed conclude that rarely before in history has it been so necessary to reaffirm the transcendence of the divine and the folly of the cross. Indeed, it is only in the light of these fundamental truths that we can integrate those modern values with the work of redemption. That is to say that at the very center of Christianity we must encounter men who are manifestly living in the grip of God's reality-- contemplatives. II. Primordial Condition: Grasp the Ideal Later on we will treat some of the methods of self-ap-praisal that have become indispensable for a proper func-tioning of the mixed life. But these subjective means have value only to the extent that they can assure a free flowing of the mystical springs of the religious life, that they can help us realize the primordial condition: a firm grasp of the ideal. What good is it to free the gaze of the heart if it lack a world vision, a great cause capable of raising us beyond our limitations? Indeed, such a vision must become, so to speak, a part of one's psychological structure in such a way that it shapes and gives direction to all of a person's spon-taneous reactions. We are thus led to present two theses: 1. The regenerative role of theology. This global vision which absorbs our attention ever more and more will direct our gaze first of all to the reality of God our Creator and Savior. That is to say, the religious will be penetrated by a theologi-cal total view of the meaning and structure of the Christian life. In it will be integrated the results of the biblical, his-torical, and speculative researches that recent generations have produced. We are convinced, furthermore, that this consciousness of the worth and requirements of the mixed life will emerge only in the framework of a renewed theologi-cal perspective. Hence, a theological emphasis must be present in our religious formation and in our religious consciousness. This dimension must be given in a way adapted to the subject from the very beginning of religious life. 2. Continuity with thefou~nder. The particular order to which a person belongs must be understood in this same global perspective. In spite of its obsession with progress and its constant preoccupation with the future, our own age loves to search history. In view of this, the young ought to be presented with the origins of their order, with the master ideas which, from the beginning, have established its voca-tion in the Church and which are expressed in a certain number of its traditional elements. Thanks to this confronta-tion with living history, the master ideas will come through in their vision of the future as a truly contemporary call. Revision of Observances: Return to the Sources or Adaptation? The return to the sources of the mixed life implies a reflection on the profound meaning of usages and customs, of different forms of traditional expression. An eventual reworking will be constructive only if the following conditions are observed : a) One must know how to distinguish judiciously between the difficulty of application stemming from the fact that a prescription takes its obvious meaning from circumstances that are strictly historical and that no longer obtain, and the difficulty which originates either in the passing insuffi-ciencies of modern man himself or in the present make-up of the order, province, or abbey. In this last case, the question to be asked is not, "How can we modify this prescription? What is there which the present group is right now capable of assimilating?" It is rather, "How can we get candidates better adapted; how can we form the members of the order 4- 4- OArcdti~veers Monastic VOLUME 2~, 1964 28! V. Walg~ave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 282 to understand customs of this nature and to have the spir-itual attitude which corresponds to them?" b) The second condition is that the judgment must pro-ceed not only from an historical or psychological knowledge of the factors in question but also from a lived experience of the mixed life that is penetrated with a concern to safe-guard it. This experience can be incomplete on the active side as well as on the contemplative side. In fact, the judg-ment on an aspect of the mixed life can be just as much falsified by an exclusive preference for the elements of the monastic life as by a one-sided orientation towards activity. Once these principles are applied, however numerous the modifications proposed, even if they eliminate some usage dear to traditionalist sentiment, they will not cause any injury to the order as such. Rather, the result will be just the opposite since these changes will be inspired by a sense of the specific purpose of the order and a concern for apos-tolic or monastic effectiveness. As long as these two conditions are not met with, one will argue off the point and will judge to be outmoded or ineffective that which really corresponds with an eternal need of the contemplative soul. This mistake at present threatens in a most serious way the right evolution of several orders with a monastic foundation. Biblical Existence and Monastic Life Among the elements of spirituality which attract the attention of modern man in a special way, corresponding as it does to his own temperament, there is none able to exercise as favorable an influence on the contemplative. renewal as the tendency towards an "existential" attitude conceived within the biblical perspective. Understood in a superficial way, this attitude could easily lead to a militant anti-formalism or to an opposition to every kind of norm or usage imposed in common. Taken in its real meaning (that is, conceiving the order of nature as well as that of revelation as an historic action of the living God who calls me to respond), the biblical attitude of dialogud favors the total absorption of the soul by a personal God, by the living Christ. This personalization of attention and intention signifies at the same time the personalization of the monastic life, of recollection, and of asceticism, constituting by that very fact the best remedy against the subjectivism of every kind which has brought so much harm to the spiritual development of religious milieux. Liturgical Requirements The second element of modern spirituality which brings the contemplative attitude closer to us is the liturgical renewal. The "existential" encounter with the redeeming God is achieved in the liturgy. Now, the contemplative community presents itself as a liturgical community par excellence. The monastic life asks to be nothing else but a continuation of the liturgical action which embraces the whole of life, just as the conventual day should live by the ideas and sentiments brought to it by the Divine Office. It follows that the liturgical~ renewal presently taking place will be decisive in great part for the monastic renewal which is manifesting itself in the old orders. It is, then, of the utmost importance that the liturgy be able to present itself to the religious in a form apt to be lived by them in a personal way. To attain this end it is necessary: (a) that the work of accommodating ceremonial on certain points continue judiciously; (b) that the Breviary be thoroughly revised with an eye to increasing the directly religious value of the texts (that is, Lessons, choice of Psalms and Canticles) ; (c) that, with regard to the Psalms to be recited, we come up with, finally and' in spite of everything, a version that is at once faithful and drawn up in a simple and rhythmic Latin, the Latin of the fathers. Finally, we think it is probable that in order to assure the pastoral efficacy of the choral Office (in mixed orders) it will be necessary one day to adapt part of the Office so as to permit the faithful to participate in it in a direct manner. The "Conventual Brotherhood" As a third element of the contemporary renewal whose conscious engrafting will be of decisive import for the future of that religious life which has a monastic foundation we propose the reinvigoration of the dimension of community. The monastery constitutes par excellence a "brother-hood" united by the bond of charity. The sense of "brother-hood" is the more necessary according as the life of the members is lived in greater silence and solitude. It is a fact that the subjectivism of times past has led us to an individu-alism in thought and feeling so as greatly to diminish aware-ness of the normal connotation of this brotherhood. Also, a stern perfectionism often favored an affective harshness which stripped the common life of its note of spontaneity and cheerfulness. The present reaction against this climate of spiritual individualism is animated, no doubt, by a need for affective liberation. But it borrows its significance above all from the profound need of "socialization" that marks modern man. He wants to live his vocation and fulfill his primary tasks with his brethren beside him in a communion that is really experienced. Of course there are risks. A superficial conception can lead to an absolute "horizontalism," to the detriment of every purely religious value lived prior to the encounter with one's neighbor: a life of adoration and sacrifice lived in silence and solitude. At the same time it can endanger the ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 283 4. ÷ 4. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 284 original meaning of the vows of religion, especially that of obedience. But, understood as it ought to be, this re,empha-sis of fraternal charity w!ll provide a guarantee of authen-ticity for our personal relations with God. Besides, it will favor a conception of the vows that is more complete, more in conformity with the full intention of the counsels of Christ as we find them in the Gospel. The re-enrichment of the vows of religion with a communitarian dimension is an urgent matter. Authority and the Attitude oAr Dialogue Among the direct consequences of accenting the social dimension, a more communitarian exercise of authority should especially be mentioned. This exercise will be based on an attitude of dialogue, a prolongation of that attitude adopted toward God. The conventual "brotherhood" constitutes at the same time a community of endeavor, united especially in a com-mon prayer and work. The superior is above all the repre-sentative of the common ideal of service of God, as the members have freely chosen it and to which they have bound themselves unconditionally. If the religious has bound himself by his profession to a total obedience to the "orders of his superior, this in no wise diminishes the supe-rior's duty of safeguarding and promoting the communal character of the religious undertaking. Thanks to the social orientation of our age, it has become possible to improve yet more the communal dimension of the regime of obedience. This improvement implies, first of all, a more personalized acceptance of the subject just as he is, in a spirit of under-standing and respect, allowing him to express his point of view frankly. This acceptance will correspond moreover to the present tendency of the young to show their superiors a greater openness of soul and a more filial confidence. Secondly, the evolution we have noted will require opportunities for an exchange of ideas on the level of the group as such in preparation for the making of decisions. Whereas up to now authority has ordinarily confined itself to imposing or determining a multitude of individual tasks as though from the outside, it now tends more and more to become the directing principle of a common task, supported by a common thought and activity. The sense of initiative is seeking to find its place in the life of the group as such. This new orientation is fitted to purify the exercise of authority from every egocentric identification of the person of the superior with his power--though it be often uncon-scious. In consequence it will make obedience easier and more authentic, immunizing it from the spirit of servility or shabby calculation. The unavoidable transition in which we are engaged will be favorable to religious renewal only in so far as the superiors do not give in to the current of a false democrati-zation or of a leveling of the transcendent character of authority and its appropriate expressions. The just mean is the more difficult to find as the problem is rather new. There is the risk of improvising, of going beyond that which is compatible with the rule of religious 01~'edidnce: "as a democratic equality in accordance with which a subject would discuss a matter with his superior until they arrive at a solution pleasing to.them both.''4 But, besides that, an even more fundamental condition is only rarely fulfilled. Dialogue within the framework of religious obedience pre-supposes as a common basis for exchanges of opinion a com-mon conception of the ideal and of its elementary require-ments. Now it must be admitted that in active orders that have a monastic foundation this unity of conception is lacking2 The superior who is desirous of preserving essential traditions in the face of changes that are imposed and enters onto the path of dialogue quickly finds himself confronted with an impossible task: he must raise the discussion of a number of delicate questions concerning the religious life which are, .for the most part, based upon a lack of under-standing of the contemplative element and its monastic expressions. Since these problems are very complicated and since there is generally a lack of a clear and firm interven-tion on the part of the legislator and the major superiors, l~e quickly finds himself compelled to be content with a more traditional exercise of power, thus increasing the unrest of his subordinates. From all this, two points clearly emerge: (I) in general, the coincidence of the crisis of the mixed life with the break-through of the spirit of dialogue has much to do with the precipitancy with which the dismantling of the contempla-tive and monastic regimes is being accomplished in the orders in question; (2) the reassuring or reform of this regime must begin with a renewed insight into the very idea of the mixed life and a renewed recognition of the internal coher-ence of its essential elements. In Quest of Evangelical Poverty The renewal of the mixed life is inconceivable without a rediscovery of poverty. This is the case primarily because the contemplative attitude is essentially oblative, and thus it is in contradiction to our possessive instincts. The purifica-tion of these instincts presupposes a detachment which is not simply one in principIe but one that is sensibly felt. The problem becomes especially disturbing when we view it from the ecclesial angle. Our witness to God's tran-scendence loses a great deal of its force as long as we do not 4 Plus XII, Altocution to 30th General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, September 10, 1957, The Pope Speaks, v. 4 (1957-1958), p. 449. ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 2~, 1964 285 ÷ ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, o.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 286 clearly appear freed from the tyranny of material wants and the cult of security which characterizes our age. Our better Christians sense this connection vividly, If they suffer from their submersion in material needs, it is often because they recognize therein a lack of faith in God and in the message of Christ. And it is in vain that they seek in us, through our effective detachment, an indisputable expres-sion of this faith. The question is urgent: how can we conceive for religious life an expression of evangelical poverty that is appropriate for our age? How can a real sense of Christian risk be joined with the functional realism we must have? This inquiry, and it is becoming more and more lively, will not cease until the adequate answer has been fofind. Finally, we cannot close our eyes to the destructive misery of the underdeveloped world which is aggravated in propor-tion to the development of our wealth. In our era, when man's awareness has acquired a "planetary" dimension, the desire to live in conformity with the poor and suffering Christ--an essential trait of religious life--seeks inevitably to incarnate itself in a style of life which, by solidarity with His disinherited brethren, leaves flatly behind the arrogant abundance which surrounds us on all sides. Remoteness from the World Among the modern currents Which have a rather negative signification for the mixed life, special mention should be given to the tendency to exteriorization and immersion in contemporary affairs. Now, ih an apostolic community with a contemplative foundation, one must always maintain, in spite of the lively attention he gives to the evolution of this world, a relative, but quite apparent, distance .from things of present interest. This distance finds expression in the cloister, a material and spiritual partition which moderates com-munication with the world outside. For the moment, the preoccupation with an apostolate adapted to the style and rhythm of our civilization tends to neutralize completely this function of the cloister. The principal objection to the traditional viewpoint is that the modern apostle must keep up with the political, social, and cultural events of the day, just as his hearers do, by the many means of communication: radio, television, films, magazines, and so on. Such a conclusion is precipitate and rests upon a funda-mental confusion. The unlimited multiplication of contacts with present-day happenings is not the means that will bring us an understanding of modern man. By modelling our life on that of a Christian in the world, by introducing the mass media of communication indiscriminately as habitual elements in our life, we destroy that very perspec-tive which is so important for judging the true direction of current events. Moreover, we make too difficult the attitude of recollection and searching for God; and this is the very raison d'etre of the whole monastic apparatus. Nor should one imagine that intensive contact with the world will favor the efficacy of. our specific, mission. For the word which takes its il~sp~ration from this'contact only rarely communicates the Gospel message to the deepest aspirations of the modern soul. The resulting presentation may indeed be more "striking," but it will always be too facile as well. The primary conditions for a true understanding of and fruitful approach to modern society are of quite a different nature. What we must have are, first of all, a knowledge of human nature, just that, acquired through a humble self-knowledge as well a~ by other means; an authentic esteem for earthly values which will permit us to be in empathy (free from all religious smugness) with the man of-today as he is; and an extensive understanding bf the formation of contemporary civilization and its in.n.er logic. However, along with all this it would be highly desirable not only to initiate the young religious methodically into the world that the communications media evoke but also-- parallel to what will be said on the matter of formation for the mixed life--to arrange intensive contacts with certain representative milieux of present-day society. Thus, the approach to the modern world will be prepared not by a process of lowering the plane of conventual life to the level of the world but by a better general formation and a conscious and well-guided initiation. Reinvigoration of Monastic Initiation If the mixed life is to be more than a formula and if the contemplative element is to maintain its elementary solidity at the heart of the .apostolic life, a solid initiation to the monastic manner of living has to be provided. Among other things, such an initiation will demand: a) That young religious be taught to avoid all confusion between end and means, between .the essential and the accidental. Let us add that the "functional" or practical mentality, which is characteristic of the new generation, will for its part be able to exert a tonic influence on the spirit which animates observance and worship, b) That the young also be taught to respect the necessity of using means as well as their proper finality and to be attentive to details. This attitude presupposes, first of all, an understanding of different observances and forms of expression; more than ever before it must be shown (in a solid and carefully studied way) how these different practices correspond on the one hand to what is eternal in the needs of man and on the other to what is of positive value in modern aspirations. Further-more, it presupposes an awareness that the assimilation of ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23, 1964 + ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 988 rites and observances, of chant and psaimody demand-_ - precise knowledge of various details and an unreserve~l commitment to their practice just as mastering a modern technique does;in fact, in both cases it is "virtuosity" which will permit a person to handle the "technical" means in a way so fluent that his mind, freed by this from all serf-conscious hesitation, will easily be able to turn toward the essential (in the case that concerns us: to aim at spiritual realities through the external "media," to integrate these "media" ever more and more into the spiritual movement of the soul towards God). This line of thinking leads us to formulate two theses in a more explicit manner, which once admitted will profoundly modify the pedagogical perspec-tive of the old orders. Integration of Personal Self-Awareness Very often the old orders consider it an element of their ascetical excellence that,, simply by the fact of their com-munal liturgical and monastic framework, they lead their members to an attitude of religious "objectivity," permitting them to go beyond a subjectivist self-awareness. It would be enough to hand oneself over unreservedly to this framework. This optimistic point of view seems to us completely outmoded in view of the psychological evolution that .is presently at work in mankind. With Rfgamey we posit the thesis that, for the self-aware type of person which modern man often is, a return to a "naive" attitude before the invitation of the transcendent is no longer possible. It is hardly a matter of adopting an attitude of pure objectivity and simply leaving the subjective aside. Many times one can conquer subjectivism only by going to the end of the road of self-awareness. III. Psychological Methods It follows that the renewal of the contemplative and mixed life---forms of life which, more than any other, require an objective attitude of soul--will be greatly assisted by in-troducing modern psychological methods in the formation and direction of the individual as well as in group work both within and outside the monastery.5 It is a question here of methods, basically very simple and human, which are more and more leaving their mark on the dynamic structure of the new society: methods of adapting to the social milieu and the mechanical aspects of our civili-zation, methods of individual and public relations, and so on, The younger generation accepts this very readily, moved as it is by that realism which accepts the complexity of 5 To avoid any confusion, let us say in advance that by the term "psychological method" and others like it we never envision psycho-analysis, which will always be a matter for specialists and which should be used with the greatest prudence. psychological facts, even blazing a trail through this como plexity to a new kind of simplicity, a simplicity that is arrived at by conscious, technical analysis. When secular businesses and organizations are profiting extensively and in a very concrete way from these multiple insights into the nature of maii~ it is unthinkable that we who are engaged in an enterprise much more important should neglect appealing to these same means--and that sometimes for lack of simplicity. For a Better Self-Knowledge As a first result of adopting modern psychological meth-ods, we would mention a Serf-knowledge that is more pro-found and better assimilated. In fact, contemporary psy-chology offers us an analgsi~s of the very depths bf the soul, that is to say, of those unconscious or barely conscious motivations which determine the. worth of a subject's involvement in an ideal. It makes us see the different types or psychological structures which can result from these motivations, the direction that the person's evolution receives from them, and the symptoms whose recognition will permit us to adjust these structures. The initiation into this "motivational" knowledge of oneself presupposes the' elaboration, based on what is called depth psychology, first, of a typology of the motiva-tion which dominates the commitment in question (here, in religious life), and secondly, of a method of individual formation with a view to acquiring a like serf-knowledge. This kind of self-knowledge will make it possible for the reflexive man to rediscover the attitude of spirit, feeling, and body that is called "objective." This attitude will mean for him a psychological facility in leaving the self behind and so arriving at a truly contemplative orientation. Psychosomatic Problems and the Contemplative Attitude Modern psychology has also served to draw our attention to the meaning of a certain number of psychosomatic phenomena.We have not hitherto taken sufficiently into account the fact that they are the symptoms of a psychic (if not moral) selfishness and that they also constitute a serious obstacle to the normal development of the contem-plative attitude and, consequently, of the apostolate it ought to inspire. Of these we may mention: general unrest of mind and body, an always hasty manner of acting, a yen for activity and change, impatience, certain forms of ennui-- understanding each of these traits as a permanent disposition which clearly dominates the psychological make-up of the subject. Indeed, the psychosomatic disturbances in question will often be largely the effect of contamination by the modern ÷ ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 23~ 1964 289 ÷ ÷ V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 290 environment. But the mentality and patterns thus trans-mitted grat't themselves very naturally onto the seN-centered elements we always have within us. It is from these thht they receive their stability, while keeping their own form of expression. Hence, to avoid these disturbances or to prevent their growth, we must, before all else, call upon this self-knowl-edge which we have just sketched. The lived discovery of their ~elf-centered roots and the humble acknowledgment of the voluntary element which can be mixed in there will be decisive in the transformation of the personality in depth. In the second place (and only in the second place), there is the question of influencing the psychosomatic dynamism by methods which approach it directly on its own ground. The modern world, suffering so much from nervous over-stimulation, appears to be turning more and more toward a number of related techniques (Zen Buddhism, Yoga, etc.), seeking there, in an atmosphere of quasi-religion and mysticism, for definitive deliverance from its anguish. Everywhere one comes across religious who are seeking in some of these means a tonic for personal dynamism. It remains to be seen how far these techniques will be useful in the spiritual ascent of the Christian--the authentic fruit of grace. Classic Laws o3r Spiritual Evolution The renewal of methods of formation and direction should be accompanied by a restoration of the classic doctrine of the fundamental laws that govern the evolution of the interior life. At present, this doctrine is neglected almost everywhere or-is even unknown. The teachings of a Saint Thomas Aquinas or a Saint John of the Cross on this subject would seem to most people to be of little more than theoretical interest, treating of things which undoubtedly happen somewhere in the Church but which it would be dangerous to try to situate in our everyday lives. Now, it is necessary to bring clearly to. the fore the truth 'that the laws in question' truly dominate the evolution, the success or failure, of life in religion. Monastic life is only a .particular area of application of this same process of as-similation. This means that, just as it is true of the life of prayer in general, so also the regimen of monastic observ-ances and the following of the evangelical counsels can obtain value as an authentically religious expression only through a period of aridity and trial during which a humble perseverance assures us of the purification of our profound automatic responses and desires. Without passing that way, one cannot judge the Christian value of the elements which make up this life. Where, for example~and it is so often the case~monastic prescriptions are assumed only as a social arrangement that is the obiect of a critical regard or a playful benevolence, then they will become in fact, and very quickly; a useless piece of baggage. "Inevitable Crises Sincere personal ihvolvement' in the religiogs life and its process of evolution will inevitably lead a person through one or several cri~es of alienation and interior solitude. In fact, life in a re.ligious house, above all where that life is fundamentally monastic,'makes us enter upon a Christian perspective that is very clear, even radical. Everything there expresses the Christian'.s conversion to God. Intimate identification.with its specific forms of expression obliges us to a theocentric rearrangement of our spontaneous judg-ments, to a conscious revision of our earthly and culpable self-centeredness, a real "metanoia" of soul. This transition involves a man in a kind of migration. For, while advancing into this new country, we are leaving to that extent an old land so close to our heart. The feelings of strangeness and loneliness are only the expression on a psychological level of this spiritual exodus of the soul. "The resoluteness and perseverance with which we go through these often difficult periods express in a normal way the Christian commitment which inspires our presence in the religious house. Thus it is evident that these difficult passages are of extreme importance. Often, unfortunately, spiritual di-rectors seek only to "cover up" these crises, preoccupied as they are with avoiding all discouragement or nervous tension. Now, it is only by penetrating and making one's own the inner meaning of this situation while carrying on a dialogue of love with God that one will come to the point of a definitive entry onto the path of religious or monastic life. Only in this way can the nearness of God and the symbolic world of the religious house (above all, if it be basically contemplative) become for this person a place where he is truly at home. This means that the spiritual attitudes which correspond connaturally to this milieu have drawn to themselves and thoroughly assimilated the pro-fotind forces of our spontaneity. Formation to the Mixed Life It is characteristic of the mixed life, as we have said, that the apostolate, the end of the order, is intimately bound up with the contemplative form of life. Evidently, the harmoni-zation of these two attitudes, contemplative and active, is not easy for anyone. From the viewpoint of formation, it requires not only a preparation for a contemplative attitude (all the more explicit as it will have to be able to witl~stand the skirmishes and shocks of an intense activity) but also a formation to the mixed life as such. This seems to us to imply that the young religious be given + + + Active Monastic VOLUME 23, 1964 291 V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS brief and well-defined apostolic tasks even .before the end of ¯ their theoretical education. This formation should be completed later, during the first period of the apostolate, by a kind of guidance not unlike the "supervision" used in the formation of social workers. It will be aimed not only at the strictly technical aspects of the apostolate and its religious efficacy in souls but also fat the personal problems posed by the attempt to reconcile action with the requirements of the contemplative life. The method of "supervision" is basically simple and .natural, but it requires a technical preparation. Its practice takes much time, requires great effort and a perfectly com-mitted interest on the part of the '~supervisor," Let us repeat here that the functional simplicity which it supposes cor-responds perfectly to the spiritual .orientation of the new generation. Taking into account the daring nature of the enterprise, one might finally ask if the formation to the mixed life, in order to be sufficiently efficacious, ought not to be completed near the end of the first active period (33-35 years of age?) by a return of several months duration to a way of life more " clearly contemplative. This period of "retreat" would per-mit a reappraisal in depth of the genekal direction that one has taken in his life as well as of the various notions that have been the basis of his spontaneous action. In this way could be prevented certain fixations in the realm of our judgments and inner attitudes which often seriously hinder the progress of the soul as well as the fruitfulness of the apostolate. Besides, this period.would make available the time necessary to fill up those gaps in one's knowledge (Sacred Scripture, dogma, or moral) theology which he has felt to exist during the course of his ministry. In general, when in the milieu of the ancient orders such an idea is easily rejected, this is not because (as is usually pretended) a return to an intensified recollection would be something superfluous for us who lead a partly contempla-tive life. On the contrary, if the very idea of such a return is enough to cause an unpleasant chili (another novitiate D, it is because we have never deeply assimilated the con-templative part of our life. Another indication of this situation can be seen in the many mitigations made for some time now in the arrange-ment of the annual retreat. It is true that these mitigations often increase the spiritual yield of the retreat. But this comes simply from the fact that the subject himself has become incapable of giving himself profoundly to a.re°re exacting regimen. Such a program represents an ideal from which he feels too far removed and in which he hardly believes any more. His need for authenticity impels him to reject it. IV. True Religious Houses If an order of mixed life is to be able to live up to its vocation, it is necessary that the majority of its members really participate in this type of life by residing in a "nor-mal" religious house; that.is to say one in which,the monastic prescriptions of the particular order are honored. In many countries the number of these houses is limited to the houses 'of formation. This amounts to saying that in practic~e the "mixed life" is conceived of in two successive stages: a contemplative regime, preparing for a life that is merely active. Even more complicated is the question of determining how large a house should be in Order that'it can provide the minimum requisite for monastic life and atmosphere while at the same time giving its members the freedom necessary for an active ministry. This will depend very much on the general conception of the particular order: 1. In an order whose tradition has always placed the accent upon a retired life in a strongly contemplative environment and that has conformed its methods of aposto-late to that, the number could be smaller than in another which conceives of its apostolate as a vanguard dialogue with the world on the mov, e. 2. In a mixed order where the contemplative life is founded moreover on the communal framework of choral office and monastic observances (such are the orders that are heirs of the canons), it would be very difficult to preserve its proper life without a system of large religious houses (about twenty persons in the Case of a very active order). The Choice o j: Tasks For the mixed life to be the rule rather than the exception, it will be necessary clearly to distinguish between the tasks that are reconcilable with this life and those which are not, whether by their nature or in the conditions of their exercise. In general, the acceptable tasks will be ones that have a directly religious meaning and that can be arranged in such a way as tb permit those engaged in them enough time for periodic and sufficiently prolonged stays within the religious house. From this it follows that the taking on of parish work ought to be exceptional. The repeated appeals on the part of certain dioceses or centers of pastoral studies to enlist the mixed orders into the pafochial framework imply a mis-understanding of the nature of their vocation. In the long run, the Christian life of a particular region, will not be enriched by taking religious away from a form of life that has an authentically contemplative orientation. Entirely other is the question of knowing whether the ÷ ÷ Active Monastic Orders VOLUME 2,~1 1964 293 rather large number of pi'iests living in the religious houses of these orders really means a sterile hoarding of elements that would be very useful f~r the apostolate~if, in fact, their monastic activity constitutes a waste of precious capital. Indeed, even if there is question of fervent priests, the result of their affiliation to a religious house will be rather negative if, psychologically speaking, they have not really entered into this monastic framework, making their own its proper orientation. If this is the case, would it not have been pref-erable forthem to have entered a diocese or a congregation with purely active g~als? This being the situation, if one wants to make it evolve in a direction more 'invglved in pasto(al work, he runs the risk of eventually compromising the future of a form of religious life that is extiemely impor-tant for the Church. Finally, we call attention to the fact that it is easier than it used to be for a mixed order to limit itseff to its specific vocation. The existence of.a number of "active" orders and congregations frees us from having to handle, many apostolic functions for which, in the past, we were the only ones available. A More Specialized Recruiting A profound unawareness concerning 'the ultimate objec-tive and the requirements of the mixed life reigns almost everywhere in the orders in question. As an inevitable consequence, a great number of people have beenallowed to. enter who are incapable of living the life in its specific sense or who are little inclined to do so. The presence 0f.these members is undoubtedly one of the greatest obstacles to the restoration of a mixed life worthy of the name. A more realistic and stricter recruiting of candidates is necessary. It is not enough that the candidates be truly interested in the specifically aPOstolic end and works of the order. Too often the monastic element and the contemplative orienta-tion are seen as secondary to the apostolic element and accepted only as something "thrown in for good measure." Enr611ment under this condition is devoid of meaning. In view of the present need for authenticity, the presence of a number of subjects so disposed must lead to an ever more radical dismantling of the monastic character of these orders. V. Walgrave, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 29,1 The Drive to Power and Fidelity to Vocation A group's attachment to its own influence in the Church is bne of the most frequent causes of an order's estrangement from its primitive vocation. Social psychology has convincingly shown how the drive to power can unconsciously inspire even altruistic and well-intentioned plans. It is this same process which is more or less at work in every society, not excluding the most sacred, and it constitutes that "too human" aspect of it which we must understand but never approve. Orders of-mixed life are especially, vulnerable to this tendency because they have to .defend their clearly contem-plative attitude against the pressure of an apostolic posture which is very conspicuous in the Church. The presence.of this danger is seen in the following practices: taking on tasks that are too numerous or unsuitable to the specific vocation; a view of the apostolate that is spontaneously in a spirit of competition; multiplication of small houses; lack of discretion in admitting 9andidates for the sake of numeri-cal success; a distorted presentation ofthe order's ideals, and so forth. The Christian world is less and less inclined tO accept in the Church and in the religious orders this com-promise between moral authority and the drive--whether conscious or unconscious !o domination. Consequently, the orders will see themselves obliged to conceive of their corporate orientation in a more spiritualized, more evangeli-cal manner so that the sense of their size and concern for their influence will no longer exert such pressure on fidelity to their ideal. The future of the mixed life can only gain from this. Are the Mixed Orders Too Numerous? Once we admit the ideal and logic of the mixed life in all their intransigence, we can no longer keep from asking whether the number of these orders is not too great to allow each to respond fully to its vocation. For the person who attaches more importance to spiritual fecundity than to the natural tendency to survival, the question is only too serious. Let us add two points which throw light on the import Of the problem. On the one hand there is the already wide-spread difficulty the contemplative life experiences in supporting itself in the midst of the contemporary world. On the other, it must be remembered that almost all the great orders of the Middle Ages have taken new life while a considerable number of new congregations have arisen by their side, each of them seeking to attract the necessary candidates. ÷ ÷ ÷ Acti~ Monasti~ Orders VOLUME 23s 1964 THOMAS DHBAY, S.M. Updating Puzzlements Thoma~ Duba]~, S~M., is spiritual dr-rector at Notre Dame Seminary; 2901 South Carroll-ton Avenue; New Orleans 18, Louisi-ana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Anyone even mildly acquaintedwith the thinking of our American sisters in these mid-sixties is aware that there is.a steadily increasing and animated discussion among them dealing with projected apostolic changes in the life of religious women. And as his acquaintance is deepened, he becomes aware that the sisters'-reaction spectrum to the current theory and practice of apostolic adaptation ranges all the way from an eager, impatient enthusiasm through a wait and see interest to a fearful apprehension that the new is going to swamp the old. In our view the overall situation is healthy and the discus-sion beneficial; but, as is commonly the case, not everything that fs being said is of equal value. Some of it is occasioning pet~plexity--and, in a few instances, we think anxiety not too strong a word--among a significant number of our sisters. Even though disturbance is not absent among older religious, we are particularly concerned with the yotinger. Despite their great good will and partially because of it, these latter are especially susceptible to harm resulting from uncertainties in their formation and clashing theories in their reading. Our purpose here is threefold. We wish first of all to suggest two or three formulations of the updating adaptation problem, not merely in. general but as it affects the typical individual religious. Then we propose to set down as .we understand them the causes of the impatience of one group of sisters and the reasons for the fears of a second group. Finally we shall trace out the general lines of procedure which Sacred Scripture and the magisterium of the Church present as guides to religious communities in their actual efforts at aggiornamento. Formulations of the Problem In its popular form our puzzlement may be said to con-sist in conflict between the new and the old in contemporary religious life. Constitutions are currently being modified by general chapters. Some religious feel that the changes are not drastic enough; others are persuaded that they are too drastic. Some have no set opinion but simply wonder what is essential and what is not. This popular perplexity is sharpened by newly appearing books and articles and addresses that recommend apostolic practices at variance with traditional approaches. Many sisters could hardly be more wholehearted in their agreement with the recommen-dations, while others wonder whether they will work with women. The tension is heightened when in a given congrega-tion the difference in apostolic viewpoint (or 15erhaps it is occasionally more a difference in judgments of feasibility) takes the shape of superiors on one side and subjects on the other. A more basic formulation of our problem is rooted in two distinct scriptural streams of spirituality which for our purposes we may style individualistic-contemplative and social-active. The first current lays great stress on the soul's inner life with God, solitary, sheltered, intense, delightful. There are many more instances of this thought pattern :in the Old Testament than we may easily instance here. "One thing I ask of the Lord; this I seek: to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, that I may gaze on the loveliness of .the Lord . Of you my heart speaks. [The new Latin for verse 8 is clearer than the English: "Tibi loquitur cot meum."] . How precious is your k.indness, O God ] The children of men take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They have their fill 6f the prime gifts of your house. ¯. Only in God be at rest, my soul. When I am with you, the earth delights me not . For indeed, they who withdraw from you perish .But for me, to be near God is my good; to make the Lord God my refuge.''1 This hid-denness- individualist current is, if anything, even more pronounced in the New Testament. The thirty-year example of the eternal Word is vastly impressive, to say nothing of His forty-day retreat and His habit of spending whole nights on the mountain during His public apostolate. What He did in His life He taught in His words, for He judged Mary who merely sat and drank of His wisdom better off than the busy Martha. And St. John tells us, "Do not love the world, or the things that are in theworld" (1 Jn 2:15), while St. Paul admonishes us not to have a taste for this world but rather to seek what is above and thus be hidden with Christ in God." "Therefore, if you have risen with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Mind the things that are above, not the things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God" (Col 3:1-3). The second stream of scriptural spirituality is found especially in the New Testament and its emphasis is on the kerygmatic proclamation of the word to the whole of man- ~ Ps 26:4,8; 35:8-9; 61:6; 72:25,27-8. ÷ ÷ ÷ U~dating Pu=lements VOLUME 2~, 1964 297 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS kind. The precept was given by the eternal Word Himself: "Go into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature" (Mk 16:15). Its seriousness was more than once underlined by Paul in his words as well as in his life. "How then are they to call upon him in whom they have not believed? But how are they to believe him whom they have not heard? And how are they to hear, if no one preaches?" (Rom 10:14). "For woe to me if I do not preach the gospel !" (1 Cor 9:16). "I charge thee, in the sight of God and Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead b~i his coming and by his kingdom, preach the word, be urgent in season, out of season; reprove, entreat, rebuke with all patience and teaching" (2 Tim 4:1-2). Brought up to date, this formulation of our sisters' apos-tolic puzzlement bears on the relative positions of prayer and work in the contemporary setting. And the pat answer, "a due time for both," does not answer all the sub-questions : Do religious women spend too much time in mental prayer? Is there such a thing as "apostolic mental prayer"? Should active communities still say the Office in choir? If so, how much of it? If not, what shall supply for the nourishment the Office formerly gave their souls? The third formulation of our perplexity centers on the actual mission state of the world today. In this shape the problem may be presented as a comparison between a single verse of Scripture and a few hard facts of twentieth century reality. The scriptural aspect of this formulation is the unvarnished divine precept that the glad tidings be preached to every creature: "Go into the whole world and preach the gospel to every creature," The hard facts which, seen under the light of this verse, should cause a keen discomfort are, first of all, that two thousand years later less than twenty percent of the world has so far accepted the full message. And secondly, the non-Catholic world, we are told, is in-creasing more rapidly than the Catholic. Still more, we have nowhere in sight a number of religious and priestly vocations. sufficient to cope either with 500 million faithful or the over two billion still outside the Mystical Body. To compound a nightmarish situation is the fourth fact of an appalling apathy on the part of the .majority of our Catholic laymen and laywomen. Now the comparison between the divine precept and the human facts sets in bold relief the final formulation of our puzzlement: Given the staggering situation of our missionary condition, how can we rightly continue to emphasize the cozy, contemplative, self-contained elements in the religious life? Should not the sister's dominating passion be the proclamation of the word? Does not aggiornamento demand that religious face the contemporary scene as it exists? Causes of Impatience We can perhaps trace out the reasons for a certam unrest among many religious women according to th~ three ways we have formulated the problem. It seems t~ us that a noteworthy number of sisters are dissatisfied ~ith some of the prescriptions of their ~onstitutions and Customs. Some feel that their religio~s habit is archaic and th.at even as it has been modified it remains an impediment to attaining an easy rapport with modern men and women, especially non-Catholic men and women. To many sisters the rule that they go out only two by two is consonant neither with the much freer status of contemporary woman nor with the actual .needs of the apostolate. The many permissions re-quired in convent life seem to be out of harmony both with the greater independence of women in our day and with like situations among religious men. These causes ofim-patience and others like them are sharpened when the sister subject not only sees no adequate adaptation in her com-munity but no great inclination in the administratiOn to initiate steps to attain it. Tl~e second type of reason for disquiet is a discontent with the present allocations to prayer and work in active congre-gations. We do not mean that religious are uninterested in prayer; but we do mean that some of them feel that the amount of time to be given to prayer, and especially vocal prayer, needs to be cut down. Many would like to pare down community vocal prayers, and some would extend the paring process also to the DiVine Office and even perhaps to mental prayer. The final reasons for impatience cluster about the manner in which religious women are as a matter of fact carrying out the gospel command to preach the word to every crea-ture, including the billions of souls still outside the Mystical Body. While we are confident that many sisters decidedly desire to work with children and would feel both uncomfort-able and inept with adults, there are others who prefer to work with mature people and thus get to "every creature" more directly. We think, too, that a large number of reli-gious are unsatisfied with the indirect apostolate of teaching English and arithmetic, of keeping hospital records and supervising nurses, and rather wish to spend themselves in an immediate apostolate of supernatural contact with souls. These sisters feel that they and their companions could be used more effectively by leaving the indirect apostolate to laywomen and rather engaging themselves in reaching directly the vast populations of adult women still little touched by the Church. The impatience here is rooted in what appears to be an obsolete and ineffective use of the apostolic resources of our consecrated women. ÷ ÷ ÷ Updating Pu~lements VOLUME 23~ 1964 299 ÷ Thomas Duba~, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Causes of Fear At the opposite end of what we have called the reaction spectrum to apostolic aggiornamento lie varying degrees of fear regarding adaptations that have already occurred or, perhaps more frequently, regarding others that are merely being proposed and discussed. We may note in passing that sisters who entertain these fears are by no means unsym-pathetic as a group either to the theory or the fact of adapta-tion. They see the likely good but are also concerned about the likely harm. What are these fears? We would distinguish three main bases for apprehension concerning current developments in updating approaches to the apostolate of religious women. The first of these bases is the simple fact that many sisters are not capable either natively or by training background to work effectively with adult women. The apprehension arises from the suspicion that religious now working fruitfully with children would perhaps be transferred to occupations for which they are prepared neither by disposition nor by education. The second cause of updating anxiety centers on the alleged inability of women to live holy religious lives without the safeguards with which their, rules have traditionally surrounded them. Without taking a position regarding this fear, we can say at least this much that not all sisters are convinced of the advisability of rule modifications which open the way to considerably more and longer contacts with the world. One might object that even sisters have to take risks, but this would be met with the rejoinder, "Yes, but how many? When do we reach the point where contacts in the world will do more harm than good to religious and their work?" At least some sisters see a problem here. Perhaps the most frequently occurring and the deepest reason for disquiet lies in the area of mental prayer and the need for solitude. Despite verbal assurances to the contrary, both formation and inservice policy recommendations by the mounting attention they give to a tension and time packed apostolate seem to these religious to be making slow inroads on a calm prayer life with the indwelling Trinity. There seems to be a clash between new apostolic emphases and the age-old Catholic insistence just recently reiterated that the first duty for a religious, even for a religious belonging to an Institute of active life or of mixed life is then to give himself to God in contemplation and out of love for him. Service of the neighbor" comes second only, in so far as he needs it and as the re-ligious is in fact entrusted with it by his Superiors? 2 Archbishop Paul Philippe, The Ends of the Religious Life according to Saint Thomas Aquinas (Athens: Fraternity of the Blessed Virgin Mary, 1962), p. 72. Archbishop Philippe is secretary of the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religions. Some of our ~isters are wondering why, if contemplative love is primary in the religious state, the contemporary trend is toward reducing rather than increasing the time available for its peaceful practice. Or to ask an allied question, if as Plus XI declared, a hidden life of prayer, love, and suffering is a more fruitful apostolate for souls than active works are, why are we meeting our apostolic challenges with a greater emphasis on action than on contemplation? Such, then, are the causes of impatience on the one hand and fear on the other that we have found among American sisters. We propose now to suggest some general norms of procedure which according to Sacred Scripture and the teaching Church are sound guides for resolving in broad outline some of the questions we have raised. Guides for Apostolic Updating First principle: the Trinity is the source oaf apostolate. The re-ligious who steps into a classroom or a hospital ward does not enter her working domain as a private person, as. the former Mary Jones or even as the present Sister Mary Teresa. She enters as a member of a supernatural team, a religious community on which the Church has bestowed a mandate. She is a sent person, a commissioned person. Im-mediately she is sent by her major superior, intermediately by the Roman Pontiff and the local ordinary, ultimately by God Himself. Her religious superiors have the. authority to mission her because they have received a share in the pope's universal jurisdiction, and th~ pope has his authority from Christ Himself, and Christ has it from the Father. "As the Father has sent me, I also send you" ~Jn 20:21). The sister; therefore, engages in her apostolate as one sent by the very Trinity abiding in her heart through supernatural knowl-edge and love. It is highly fitting, then, that she live in close union with the abiding fountain of all apostolic fecundity. Our first principle for solving our apostolic problems is, consequently, that the indwelling Trinity is the starting point of external works. Second pdndple: the sisters' apostolic methods must meet con-temporary needs as they actually are. It is axiomatic in scholastic philosophy that whatever is received is received after the matter of the receiver. A man who tries to cut a sheet of steel as though he were dealing with paper is going to have his problems. A religious community which operates in the mid-twentieth century as though it were working in the mid-nineteenth is going to run into some dead-end streets. The Gospels themselves were written differently according to the manner of the receivers. Matthew wrote in one fashion for his fellow countrymen in Palestine, Mark and Luke tailored their approaches to Gentile converts, while John proposed to write a theologically orientated account against the Docetists and styled his Gospel accordingly. Religious ÷ ÷ ÷ opaating Puzzleracnts VOLUME 23, 1964 301 + ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~0~ communities surely cannot afford to do less in meeting contemporary needs in a contemporary manner. The Holy See itself has said so much in the last two decades about the need for adaptation in the religious life that for us to say more would be to labor the point. Hence, our second prin-ciple is patent: however we are to meet updating tensions, our solutions will have to face and answer real problems as they now exist. Thirdprinciple." prayer, love, and suffering are the most Jruitful apostolate. This third guide to unraveling unrest and ap-prehension in adapting to modern needs is taken bodily from the teaching of Pope Pius XI. Speaking on the occasion of the canonization of a religious whose community neither teaches nor nurses, the Discaleed Carmelite nuns, tl-ie Holy Father remarked: "These are the most pure an~l the most lofty souls in the Church, who by suffering, loving and praying in a hidden apostolate hold the first place in bene-fiting all men.''3 Approving the Carthusian statutes a decade earlier in 1924, the same pontiffhad said perhaps even more strikingly that it is "easy to understand how they who assiduously fulfil the duty of prayer and penance contribute much more to the increase of the Church and the welfare of mankind than those who labor in tilling the .Master's field.''4 Several centuries earlier St. John of the Cross had taught the same truth in his own limpid manner: "A very little of this pure love is more precious in the eyes of God and the soul, and of greater profit to the Church, even though the soul appear to be doing nothing, than are all. these works t0gether,''~ Now if we pay this teaching more than lip service, we must in the actual ordering of the contemplative and work-ing aspects of active religious congregations recognize the primacy of the former not only in the sanctification of the individual religious but even in the sanctification ~ the souls . committed to her care. We have got to work, to be sure, and work hard. Woe to us if we do not preach the Gospel. But all the same, if praying, loving, and suffering are the most fruitful apostolate in the Church, we religious have got to be before all else contemplative sufferers or suffering con-templatives. Hence, to aim at updating constitutions, rules, and horaria on any other basis is simply to miss the point. If getting our religious women to mix more with the world is going to damage their love and prayer, the mixing must yield, not the love and prayer. If newly undertaken activi-ties are going to so wear a sister out t

Issue 22.5 of the Review for Religious, 1963. ; THOMAS DUBAY, S.M. Personal Integrity and Intellectual Obedience If only through what we may term'a nebulous feeling of supernatural discomfort, no thoughtful religious long escapes the knotty problems implied in his reasoned re-actions to his superior's directives. Sooner or later he wonders how the perfection of obedience could possibly and honorably require that he judge to be wise and prudent what he may on occasion strongly feel to be un-wise and imprudent. Some of the implications of this complex question we have explored in two previous articles.1 The interest shown in these questions together with the oral and epistolary discussions consequent on them have prompted us to propose several additional problems and to seek suitable solutions to them. The Problems Religious superiors, like the rest of humankind, usu-ally do not know what we may call the content of the divine will. As I type this sentence I cannot be certain that objectively speaking this is what God prefers me to be doing at this moment. When a major superior as-signs a religious to teach the tenth grade, he cannot be sure that such is precisely the divine preference for this particular religious. In both of these cases all we can know is that our action, and our intentions are good. At times we may be reasonably assured that the action we contemplate is in its concrete circumstances better than some other, but even then we do not see how God judges the situation. Does not our inability to know the content of God's will render pointless the whole concept of intellectual obedience? Is the subject supposed to conform his judg- 1"Psychological Possibility of Intellectual Obedience," R~w~w FOR RrLtO~OOS, v. 19 (1960), pp. 67-76, and "The Superior's Precept and God's Will," REVIEW FOR RELmXOOS, v. 20 (1961), pp. 435--41. 4, 4" Thomas Dubay, S.M., is the spiritua director at Notr. Dame Seminary' 2901 South Carroll ton Avenue; Ne~ Orleans 18~ Louisi aria. VOLUME 22, 196~ 49~ ÷ + ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4:9,1 ment to the superior's judgment because the latter is somehow expressing the thought of God when he com-mands? And if the superior is not expressing the divine mind, why should one try to think as he thinks? Meaning of Intellectual Obedience Before we wrestle with these questions, we should per. haps review the fundamental principles involved. And among them we may recall first of all that intellectual obedience implies the attempt of a subject to see the wisdom of his superior's decision. While it does not re-quire a man to call black white when his superior is manifestly wrong, yet it is more than an assent to the mere proposition that God wills the non-sinful act of compliance. This latter assent plainly is not a conformity to the thought of the superior (as the classical concept of intellectual obedience would have it) or even an at-tempt at conformity (with which the classical concept would be content when more is not possible). Agreeing that God wills execution of a given command is nothing more than an assent to a universally received principle of Catholic theology: God wills obedience to legitimately constituted authority. Intellectual obedience according to the formulation of St. Ignatius .Loyola in his well known letter (from which Pius XII said we may not depart) requires that the subject "think the same, submitting his own judg-ment to the Superior's, so far as a devout will can incline the understanding." And hence in the many matters in which evidence is not coercive, "every obedient man should bring his thought into conformity with the thought of the Superior" (America Press edition, ;~ 9). This doctrine presents no problem when the subject possesses a founded certitude that his superior is either right or wrong. In the first case his judgment is con-formed by the very seein~ that the direction is correct, and in the second there is no need to try to conform to what is obviously false. The problem arises in debatable matters, matters in which an honest and objective man will agree that there may be something to be said for each of two or more opposing views. Since the evidence in these cases.is not coercive, a religious practices in-tellectual obedience when he makes a serious attempt to see reasons ~or the superior's view as well as for his own. We spont.aneously conjure up reasons for our own opinions, and so intellectual honesty hardly requires much effort regarding this half of the situation. But we do not spontaneously think up reasons for an opposing opinion, and so effort is requisite if we are to be co~n-pletely open. While this effort should be made in our disagreements with any man, it is especially needful in the relationship of the subject to his superior. Because of the position the latter holds as a representative of divine authority and because we may presume that this representafive re-ceives divine help in the exercise of his office (not, how-ever, a help that makes him infallible), the ftillriess of religious obedience bespeaks an especial effort to agree with his thought insofar as honesty permits and a devout will can bring it about. When a good religious, therefore, receives an unpalatable directive, this third and highest degree of obedience suggests that he make an earnest at-tempt to see his superior's point of view whenever the matter is important enough to consider motives at all. Man's Knowledge of the Divine Will From the point of view of the divine will, we may re-call to what extent a conformity is possible and in what sense a superior may be said to manifest that will. A man's will is materially conformed to God's when he wills precisely what God wills. If God were to give him a pri-vate revelation indicating exactly what He wished done at a given time and if the recipient of the revelation carried out the command, there would be a material con-formity. In this case the person's activity would corre-spond exactly with what we have called the content of the divine will. On a moment's reflection one can easily see that a material conformity known to be such is usu-ally impossible. A man simply does not know as a ,rule precisely what God knows to be the preferable course of action together with the circumstances that should sur-round the action. A religious superior is no exception to this limitation on our knowledge of the divine intellect and will. Frequently the superior cannot know that this directive or that is exactly what God would like done at this time and in these circumstances. And if the superior cannot know, neither can the subject. Formal conformity, however, is another matter. It re-fers to the motives one has in doing whatever he does. A man conforms his will to God's when he refers what he does to the divine good. Such is the conformity that St. Paul taught when he enunciated the command that we do all for the motive of God's glory: "Whether you eat or drink, or do anything else, do all for the glory of God" (1 Cor 10:31). While we often cannot know the content of the divine good pleasure and therefore cannot be sure whether or not we possess a material conformity to it, we can always know the motive with which we are to act, and thus we can be sure that we possess a formal con-formity. Hence, even thongh I cannot be sure that my proposal to give ten dollars to this particular poor man is the best thing I could do with the money (God may 4- 4- 4- Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 196.,1 495 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 496 well know some other better way in which I could use it) and even though as a consequence I do not know whether my will is materially conformed to His, yet if a~ a matter of fact I do give the gift out of love for God I am sure that my will is formally harmonized with His. And this is all that I am commanded to do in the situa-tion. I am bound to have the right motive for whatever good act I perform. When all this, then, is applied to religious obedience, it means that a superior usually does not know the con-tent of the divine will and consequently may or may not be commanding-, in material accord with it. From the point of view of the subject obeying, this does not matter. God does will that he carry out the precept as long as there is no evil in it. (We must notice that in this prac-tical execution of the command material conformity is always possible and commendable, that is, conformity to that content of the divine will which has revealed that it wants men to obey their superiors.) Furthermore, the subject should possess the formal element, the proper motive for obeying, which proximately is the authority of the superior and ultimately the ordering of his obedi-ence to the divine goodness by charity: Suggested Solutions We are now prepared for the first of our problems. Why should a religious try to make his judgment regard-ing some precept conform to his superior's judgment when he is not even sure that the latter's represents the content of the divine will? How can the constitutions of some religious congregations admonish members that they should make their superior's judgements their own, that they should "obey" even the superior's thought inso-far as such is possible? In answering these questions several principles must be borne in mind. First of all, any man is bound by mere natural honesty to conform his mind to the truth insofar as he is able. No one has a right to entertain error. He may have a right to immunity from attack because he is in error, but this is not to say that he has a right to cling to the error. There can be no right to what is unreal. Secondly, in a'genuine difference of opinion between two persons in which difference the truth is not definitely established with 'an objective certitude, honesty demands that any man make a sincere effort to see the reasons for the other's view. Any man is bound to weigh the other man's reasons as well as his own. Any other procedure is mere prejudice. Hence, the demand of intellectual obedi-ence that a subject try to see that his superior's directive is wise is no intrusion on his human dignity or intel-lectual integrity. On the contrary, this perfection of obedience is protective both of intellectual humility and of integrity since it aids a man in divorcing himself from his often inordinate attachment to his own opinion. It opens his mind to other views and other opinions. Hence, this fundamental honesty by which we give a sympathetic consideration to the intellectual position of another is common both to the subject-superior relationship and to the ordinary man-to-man relationship. Yet there is a difference. There must be a difference. Otherwise, we could hardly speak of the attempt a re-ligious makes to conform his judgment to that of his superior as a distinct degree of obedience. But what is the difference? What is the difference between Brother X and Sister Y trying to look sympathetically upon their superiors' decisions and these same two persons attempt-ing to discuss a question of politics or philosophy in an unprejudiced manner? In both situations there is a pursuance of truth, an effort to maintain intellectual in-tegrity. The solution to this problem is difficult, admittedly difficult. And we frankly confess that we are not at all sure that our solution is adequate. We think that it is correct as far as it goes, but we are not sure that it says all that needs to be said. We believe that there are two reasons why a religious' attempt to see his superior's decision as feasible and cor-rect is something over and above this same religious' ef-fort to see a differing view in an ordinary discussion. The first "something over and above" is the supernatural posi-tion of the superior. While he remains a weak, imperfect, and entirely fallible human being, an ecclesiastical su-perior does occupy in the supernatural society which is the Church a position which is ultimately derived from God Himself. As Pope Pius XII rightly observed, the authority by which religious superiors rule is a participa-tion in the divinely received authority possessed by the Roman Pontiff. Therefore, while the religious superior does remain fallible, and sometimes sadly fallible, yet his dispositions and directions enjoy an ontological rank that other dispositions and directions do not enjoy. This basis and rank are the foundation for a new reason over and above intellectual humility and integrity why a sub-ject should seek to view his superior's disposition sym-pathetically and seek, if possible, to conform his judg-ment to it. A second reason is based on the relationship between the first and second degrees of obedience with the third, that is, the relationship between execution of the com-mand (first degree) and conformity of will (second de-gree) with the submission of intellect (third degree). A mere reflection on the psychology of obedience indicates ÷ + Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ ÷ Thoma~ Dubay, S.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 498 that the perfection with which a man executes a directive and with which he conforms his intention to that of his superior will ordinarily be dependent on his intellecttial agreement or disagreement with the judgment implied in the directive. Our point is not that the typical religious will not execute a command unless he sees its wisdom but that he often will not execute it as per[ectly when he believes it to be unwise or foolish. Our point is also that he will find conformity of the will, that is, really wanting to carry out this command, much more difficult when the precept appears to him unfeasible. A religious priest whose superior directs him to teach a course which he judges to be of flimsy value hardly throws himself ir, to the task of doing an excellent job with it. He teaches the course, yes. But unless he is a man of rare virtue, he cuts at least some minor corners with it. A sister who is asked to organize a testing program that seems to her ineffectual is an unusual person if she does not experi-ence difficulty in wanting to organize it. Because there is a lack of intellectual harmony between these religious and their superiors, harm is done to the first and second degrees of their obedience. This fact affords us another reason over and above mere open-mindedness why a subject should seek to see the wisdom of his superior's decisions and to conform his judgment to them. If our analysis is correct, it seems to follow that intel-lectual obedience is rooted in the will. The conformity on this third level is, of course, found in the intellect; but the force moving the intellect toward it is the will. This observation is not surprising when we consider that the "moving-moved" relationship is the case even with the execution of a command. The actual operation of teach-ing or sweeping is executed by the other faculties, while the moving role is that of the will. We may speak, there-fore, of obedience of the intellect because it is the in-tellect in the third degree of obedience that is harmo-nized with the intellect of the superior, even though it is the will that moves it to the harmony. There remains another facet to this problem, or, if one prefers, another problem. Granted that we have in-dicated two reasons over and above mere intellectual honesty why a subject should attempt to see his superior's view, we must yet discover what guarantee of truth can be offered that will justify the subject's conformity. After all, is not evidence the fundamental criterion of truth; and if we are going to ask a religious to hold a precept as prudent or feasible, do we not have to assure him of its validity on the basis of objective evidence? And if a religious superior has no divine guarantee that his di-rections conform to the objective truth of things, how can one rightly ask another to harmonize his intellect with them? This is no easy problem. In answer to it ~ve must first, remark that no one is asking a subject to extend the value of his intellectual assent beyond available evidence. We do not suggest that a religious ought to make a certain judgment that his superior is correct ~vhen there simply is no irrefragable evidence that he is correct, nor do we feel that the sub-ject should entertain a judgment of higher value than his superior entertains. If the superior only thinks that this course of action is feasible, surely the subject is not re-quired by intellectual obedience to be sure that it is such. As a matter of fact, the latter would be a difformity, not a conformity. We may observe, likewise, that in many of the disposi-tions made in a religious community neither the superior nor the subject can be prudently sure that a particular course of action is the most feasible. An autocratic su-perior may act as though he is certain that his decisions are the only reasonable ones; but this does not, of course, mean that they are. How often can one know with complete certitude that a given sister should teach the third grade rather than the fifth or that a brother should specialize in history rather than in political sci-ence or that a priest should serve on the mission band rather than on a parish staff? Many of us may entertain strong opinions in such matters, but few could offer in most cases objective evidence that one decision alone is reasonable or even the best possible. It would seem, then, that intellectual obedience frequently does not require a certain assent. But we think that it often requires an opinionative assent, that is, an assent that holds a proposition to be probably true because based on one or more solid mo-tives. Two reasons suggest this statement. First, when an intelligent man or woman (we refer to the superior) decides on a course of action, one may usually presume that there is at least one solid motive behind it that would found at least an opinionative judg-ment that the decision is a prudent one. Secondly, the superior himself usually judges his directive as at least probably correct; and so il~ he can find some good reason for it, the subject of good will should frequently be able to find it also. The first reason bears on extrinsic evidence (authority), the second on intrinsic. Is a guarantee required for the objective truth or wis-dom of the command? Must the superior in looking for intellectnal obedience in his subjects offer them some guarantee that he is at least probably if not certainly right in his dispositions? Although the two questions ÷ ÷ ÷ Intellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 499 4. 4. + Thomas Dubay, $.M. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 500 may look equivalent, we would answer yes to the first and no to the second. No man can rightly give an intellectual assent to a proposition unless he has some motive pro-portioned to the quality of his assent. I do not proceed in an orderly fashion when I judge to be certain an as-sertion for which I have only probable evidence or when I hold an opinion with not even probable evidence. Hence, a religious need not judge his superior to be surely correct when he can see only probable reasons in favor of the command. When the subject can see no intrinsic reason in favor of the precept's feasibility (and such is rare, indeed), he should either refrain from judg-ing it altogether or base his opinionative judgment that it is feasible on the mere fact that his superior thinks, it so. In this second case he rests on extrinsic authority or evidence. His intellectual honesty is preserved in that he has not made a certain assent, and his obedience is per-fect in that he has made every reasonable effort to bring his judgment into accord with that of his superior. A superior is not ordinarily bound to offer the guar-antee for the assent his subject is to give to his disposi-tions. It would be unreasonable to expect one in author-ity to explain his reasons every time he decides upon some course of action. And it happens occasionally that natural secrecy prevents him from disclosing why he acts as he does. Yet at the same time we feel that often, if not usually, a superior should spontaneously offer reasons for his directives when they are out of the ordinary or when they are especially susceptible to misunderstanding. would even say that unless secrecy forbids it, a superior ordinarily does well to let the reasons for his commands be known whenever an intelligent subject could not l easily conclude to them and when the matter is impor-tant enough to go into them at all. Otherwise, it is dif-ficult to see how the subject could give an intelligentl assent or bring his judgment into line with that of hisJ superior except perhaps by a sheer act of will. As we have just hinted in the preceding paragraph,, all of our above attempts to give a reasonable account the roots of intellectual obedience as it bears on the ob-jective order of things are directed toward cases in whichl an agreement with the superior's mind is called for. There are many cases in the ordinary living of the re ligious life in which the directions given are not impor tant enough even to concern oneself about a conformity~ of judgment. In these it is rather blind obediertce thai is indicated: the willed execution without any thoughi as to why the command is given. We hardly think tha, a sister who has been asked by her superior to serve a.~ companion for another on a trip to town should bothei about trying to discover the rightness of the request o~ why it was made. Such scrutiny too easily lends itself to pettiness. Our above discussion rather envisions more important matters in which a religious should know his superior's mind that he may all the better carry it out. How, then, may we answer the questions with which we began? Does our inability to know the content of the divine will render meaningless the whole concept of in-tellectual obedience? It the superior is perhaps not ex-pressing the divine mind when he commands, is there any point in the subject trying to conform his judgment to that of his superior? Man's inability to know the divine mind in many of the practical details of human lille does not render mean-ingless the widely received principles of intellectual obe-dience. The religious is not assenting to his superior's direction as though it were an infallible oracle, nor is he judging that it is the only possibly reasonable disposition of the matter. Precisely because we reject the notion that a superior is revealing the content of the divine mind do we dissolve at the same stroke that other mistaken notion that in intellectual obedience the subject is assenting to a certain proposition known as such by God. Rather is the subject merely trying to put his whole being, intellect as well as will and body, into a harmony with his su-perior, a man who takes the place of God for him. And this attempt at harmonization implies no violence to in-tellectual integrity for the simple reason that it rests on evidence, either intrinsic or extrinsic. We may conclude, then, that the religious who prac-tices perfectly all three degrees of obedience integrates rather than disintegrates his personality. He executes di-rectives promptly and wholly, and thus establishes a new contact with God who has parceled out some of His supreme authority to men. He wants to carry out the precept because he sees the divine authority in a human instrument, and thus he places himself in the genuine stream of what is. He attempts to set his intellect in ac-cord with his superior's, and thus he simultaneously maintains intellectual integrity and submits his supreme faculty to the divine order. And all this is done through supernatural charity. This is sanctity because it is reality. ÷ ÷ ÷ In~ellectual Obedience VOLUME 22, 1963 501 PAUL HINNEBUSCH, O.P. Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P., is the chaplain at Rosaryville; Pon-chatoula, Louisiana. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~02 We are all very conscious that charity inspires us .to give help to others, but have we ever realized that char-ity also inspires us to ask for help? St. Thomas Aquinas was well aware of this. He writes, for example, to a prince: "Your charity has asked me to reply in writing to your question. It is not proper that the requests which charity faithfully offers be refused by a friend.'u Thomas realized so well that charity seeks help as well as gives it, because he knew from experience what unity in lively charity can be. Living in the golden age of the Order of Preachers, when community life was fully synonymous with life in charity, when mutual charity penetrated everything, Thomas daily experienced char- ~ty at its best. Charity was a mutual give and take in per-fect spontaneity. Those early friars knew well the spirit behind St. Augustine's command in their rule: "Call nothing your own, but let all things be held in common among you." In the thinking of Augustine, this statement applied not only to material goods but to whatever the Christian has, whether material or spiritual, whether gifts of grace or talents of nature. Augustine was remarkably conscious of the unity of all Christians in Christ, of how all live one same life together in Him. For example, constrasting his own intensely active life as a bishop with the leisurely contemplation of a monk to whom he is wri(ing, Augustine says: "We are one body under one head, so that you are busy in me, and I am at leisure in you" (PL 33:187). Because I am one with Christ, what Christ is doing in you He is doing for me. And because you are one with Christ, what Christ is do-ing in me He is doing for you. We are one body with many functions of one life. We are one mystical person in Christ. Elsewhere Augustine writes: "Whatever my brother has, is mine, if I do not envy and if I love. I do not have it in myself, but I have it in him. It would not be mine, if we were not in one body under one Head." x Martin Orabmann, The Interior Lile o] St. Thomas Aquinas (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1951), p. 9. In this unity of life in Christ, this one life in love, the mutual sharing of spiritual and material goods is love in action. Love receives as well as gives, love asks as well as grants. If the bond of love makes us consider that our brother's needs are our own and inspires us to supply him with what he needs, that same bond of love does not hesitate in appealing to our brother's love for help. Our appeal is based upon our love for him and his love for us. It is only right that what we expect him to grant in char-itY should be requested in that same charity so that both the asking and the giving are an exercise and a strength-ening of the bond of love. Our blessed Savior sets a beautiful example of these things in dealing with the Samaritan woman at Jacob's well. In His love for the woman, He desires to do her a service; but good psychologist that He is, He knows that her pride will resent His offer of help. And not merely because in her particular case pride will resent the un-veiling of her sin but because human beings in general like to be independent and do not care to admit that they need others. Their pride instinctively resents anyone who tries to help them. We have all experienced at one time or another the pain of having our charity rebuffed. And therefore when Jesus wishes to do this woman a service, instead of immediately offering help to her, He begins by requesting help from her. He knows how valu-able a request for help can be in establishing good rela-tions among people. Rather than give her pride an op-portunity to resent His help, He appeals to what is best in her human nature. Human nature was made for love. But love's proper act is to give. To win the woman's good will and love, Jesus gives her the opportunity to give to Him. He asks her to do Him a service: "Give me to drink" (Jn 4:10). His humble request and His need immediately wins her sympathy and benevolence. Upon the initial good will which she thus manifests, Jesus proceeds to build an eternal friendship. By humbly accepting the service of her love, He leads her humbly to accept His love in re-turn, His love with its gift of "living water" springing up into a divine love, binding her to Him in an everlast-ing friendship. This is the apostolic technique which Jesus teaches to His apostles. Christian charity has to be mutual, love has to be a response to love. From the prospective convert the apostle must draw forth some sort of love, even if it is only an act of natural benevolence towards him. Grace, seizing upon this, can transform it into some-thing divine. Since man was made for love and love's proper act is to give, if we would set up a bond of love between our-÷ ÷ Requesting in Charity ÷ ÷ Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 504 selves and our fellow we must give him the opportunity to give to us. We must win his benevolence and sym-pathy by humbling ourselves before him in need. Love knows how to receive as well as give. Is not the recogn:i-tion of another's need a natural incentive to sympathy and love? Is not then the humble recognition of our mu-tual need of one another the best soil for mutual low:? For charity is mutual giving. Almighty God has deliber-ately created us mutually dependent upon one another that we may have an opportunity to love by giving ar, d to love by receiving, that thus the bond of love may 'be perfect. Therefore our blessed Lord instructed His apostles to receive even while they gave: they were to accept the hospitality of those to whom they wished to preach, they were to eat what was placed before them, they were to sleep on what was prepared for them (Lk 10:7-9). They were to be humbly dependent for material things upon the people upon whom they wished to shower super-natural gifts. Thus there would be established a balance and the mutual interchange which is charity in action. St. Paul's words describe the situation well: "There is a just bal-ancing- your abundance at the present time supplying their need, that their abundance may in turn supply your need, thus making for an equality" (2 Cor 8:14). Christ used this same technique with the disciples on the road to Emmaus. Though it was getting towards evening and the day was far spent, He acted as though He were going on, giving them the opportunity to urge their hospitality upon Him, so that by their love in giv-ing to Him their hearts would be prepared to receive His greater gifts (Lk 24:28 f.). Christ our Lord sent forth His disciples two by two so that they could mutually give and receive as they trav-elled to their missions, upholding one another in love. For in Christianity there is no room for the proud inde-pendent spirit which rejects others as though he does not need them, spurning their help as though he can get along without them, refusing to accept from others lest a debt of gratitude make him dependent upon them, carefully hoarding his own resources in fear that giving to others will impoverish him and make him dependent. How tremendously more fruitful all of our labors would be if all of us would work together in this humble charity which recognizes our need of one another! True charity is ever humbly aware of our mutual dependence upon one another in Christ and of our solidarity in Him; and therefore it is willing not only to give help but humbly to accept it and to give again in grateful return. For Christians must never give to others with an air of condescending superiority but must always humble them-selves to the level of the needy, in genuine compassion. "Be minded as was Christ Jesus," says st. Paul. "Though he was divine by nature, he did not consider his being on an equality with God a thing to be grasped, bi~t on the contrary he emptied himself, taking the nature of a slave, and was made like to men" (Phil 2:5-6). For the gifts of God, whether spiritual or material, are never given to us in order to exalt us above our fellowmen but rather to give us the means of serving Him in humble love. "Freely ~have you received, freely give" (Mr 10:8). If St. Thomas Aquinas always looked upon requests for his help as proceeding from humble charity, in humility he considered himself the servant of all in that same charity. For example, a young Dominican lecturer of Venice once wrote to him a list of thirty-six questions and asked for the answers within four days! Though this may seem to be an inconsiderate abuse of the generosity of an extremely busy man like Thomas, especially since the questions were vaguely phrased, nevertheless in sending back all the answers Thomas gently replied: "Although I h~ave been very busy, I have put aside for a time the things that I should do, and have decided to answer in-dividually the qusetions which you proposed, so as not to be lacking to the request of your charity." We must beware, then, of setting self-sufficient bound-aries about ourselves, saying, as it were, "This is my sphere of influence in the community, this is the work I will do. I can do this and no more, and I will accept no help in doing it, for I am self-sufficient within these lim-its. I want no help, because I wish to be independent of the need of helping another in return. So let us all de-marcate our spheres of influence, let us carefully portion out the common resources of our community life. This portion shall be mine, that portion shall be yours, and let us not trespass upon one anotherl You may not borrow my help or my equipment or my resources even in time of need, for at all costs we must avoid trespassing the 'rights' of one another. In short, let us kill all the spon-taneity of community life in charity." Religious who by vow have renounced everything, even their own wilI, are the last people in the world who should be insisting upon their rights. Is not charity a higher law than rights, does not charity break down the wails of proprietorship? Does not charity concede to others that to which they have no strict right? For whenever we have something and our neighbor is in true need of it, then it is no longer our own but his. It is not his in justice, but in charity. He cannot demand it of us--unless he is in dire necessity--but he can humbly ask it in love, and we grant it in love. We owe it to him + + + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22, 1963 505 Paul Hinn~bu~ch, O.P. REVIEW FOR REL|G~OU$ in the charity which makes all of us one body under one Head. And yet, there is order in charity. For though what I~ have is given me by God not just for myself but for the service of others in Christ, yet I must use and distribute what I have in an orderly way, using it for the appointed purposes in community life. If I am called upon to de-vote some of my time or my resources in giving emer-geny help to another so that my appointed tasks may seem thereby to suffer, rather than stifle charity's eager-hess to help I entrust my own affairs to divine providence while I attend to the immediate needs of my neighbor. On the other hand, the common ownership of all things in community life, in this one body under one Head in charity, does not justify any one member or group of members o[ the religious community in appro-priating an unjust share of the common resources, taking more than should be alloted when distribution is made to each according to his need. If resources are unjustly appropriated in this way, even the charity of those who are unjustly deprived cannot approve of the injustice, though they may have to endure it in patience. Even charity cannot approve of the injustice, for charity is obliged to love the common good and cannot permit this harmful swelling of one member at the expense of an-other. We cannot appeal, then, to the fact that we are one body under one Head to justify any highhanded appro-priating of the common resources. What my neighbor has is mine, what the community has is mine, but only in the friendship of charity. I have only love's rights to these things. And therefore only in humble charity may !1. re-quest more than is already allotted to me. Only mutual charity makes what is his mine and what is mine his. Charity never demands, charity humbly asks. And when she has received, in due course she makes a grateful re-turn. Everyone who is generous in fulfilling the law of char-ity and is ever eager to be at the service of others sooner or later runs into those who abuse his generosity by mak-ing, in the name of charity, requests which charity has no right to make. There will be those who will use the main point of this article as an excuse for imposing upon others, saying, "I request this in charity, so in charity you may not refuse me." Are there situations when we may refuse requests for help without violating charity? At first sight it would seem not, for our Lord says, "Give to everyone who asks of you" (Lk 6:30). However, our Lord never asks the im-possible. There are times when one is so laden with other duties of justice and charity that he cannot possibly ful-fill a request for help. But in a case like this, charity must know how to say "No." "There is always a way of refus-ing so graciously," says the Little Flower, "that the re-fusal affords as much pleasure as the gift itself would have." Lest we abuse charity's rigl~t to ask help, we must al-ways be very considerate of those of whom we ask help. We should not ask a generous person for his help when we could do the things ourselves easily enough. For if the one we ask is really charitable and generous, then we can be sure he already has more than enough to do, for every-one is asking his help. We must take care never to ask un-necessarily or selfishly. If we really do not need help and the person we ask sees that this is so, then he is not uncharitable in refusing us. In this case a work of charity is not called for, since by definition a work of mercy is aid given to one who has true need. Furthermore, a busy religious has to be dis-criminating in the works of charity he undertakes. Since it is impossible for him to do everything, he does not violate charity if he makes a prudent choice about whom he is to help or about the type of aid he is to give; for as we have said, there is an order of charity. No one is obliged to sacrifice the greater works of charity and jus-tice to aid someone who would abuse his charity. Even in refusing a request which charity has no right to make, we must be charitable in our manner of refus-ing. One must patiently bear with the fault of the one who seeks to impose upon him. Likewise, we must be careful in judging whether or not a person really is abus-ing charity's rights to ask. Ordinarily we ought to pre-sume that the bond of charity lies at the basis of all re-quests for our help. If we may refuse help to those who are uncharitably inconsiderate in the requests they make of us, on the other hand we should anticipate the needs of those whose charity is so considerate of us that they hesitate to ask our help lest they unduly burden us. If, when necessary, charity knows how to refuse help in a gracious way, true charity is also always gracious in its manner of giving help. If our consent to help another is grudging and ungracious, we deal him an uncharitable blow even as we help him, for we humiliate him by our attitude. My son, to your charity add no reproach, nor spoil any gift by harsh words! Like clew that abates a burning so does a word improve a gift. ÷ ÷ + Requesting in Charity VOLUME 22~ 1965 5O7 Sometimes the word means more than the gift; both are offered by a kindly man. Only a fool upbraids before giving: a grudging gift wears out the expectant eyes (Sir 18:14-17). "The word means more than the gift" because the gen-uine charity behind the asking and the giving, the giving and the receiving, is the one thing precious above all else. 4- 4- 4- Paul Hinnebusch, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ANTONIO ROSMINI Three Q estions on the Spiritual Life [Antonio Rosmini, 1797-1855, was one of the great figures of the Church in the nineteenth century. Besides founding the Rosminian Fathers (the Institute of Charity), he also founded the Sisters of Providence (the Rosminian Sisters). As the founder of the sisters, he was naturally solicitous for their spiritual progress and advancement. The Review is happy to present here a translation of a letter :from Father Rosmini to the members of the Sisters of Providence in England on three important matters of the spiritual life. The translation has been made by the Reverend Denis Cleary, I.C.; Saint Mary's; Derrys Wood; Wonersh; Guildford, Surrey; England.] Stresa~ September 24, 1850 Dear Daughters in Christ, I would not wish you to judge my charity towards you by the number of letters which you receive from me. The Lord knows that I have you in my heart and that I offer you to Him every day on the altar. If I write infrequently, attribute this to my weakness and to the fact that I know you have a superior who is full of zeal for your growth in Jesus Christ. Nevertheless, now that this superior of yours, and my dear brother in Christ, is returning to you after his journey to Italy, I cannot but send with him a letter which will serve to thank you for the gifts which you have sent me in your charity as a sign of your devo-tion and in which I shall answer those three important questions which you sent to me. I answer these questions because, although I know that you could have the same answers from your immediate superior who is full of wisdom and the spirit of God, I think that hearing the same things from me, as you desire and ask, will give you consolation and strength in doing good because of that affection and obedience which you grant me in Christ Jesus. It is for this reason that I write, not necessarily for your greater instruction. The first question which you ask me is this: "How can one use a spirit of intelligence without falling away from simple and blind obedience?" ÷ Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 + 4. ÷ ¯ 4ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This question and the other two which follow show your spiritual discernment becau.se they manifest your de-sire for instruction in the most perfect things. Perfec-tion demands that we know how to join and harmonize in our daily actions those virtues which, at first sight., seem opposed and even, perhaps, to exclude one another reciprocally. In fact, although no virtue can ever truly be opposed to another, just as no truth can be opposed to another truth, there is an art in uniting harmoniously those virtues which belong to faculties and passions which have contrary tendencies. When possessed by a per-fect man these faculties and passions come together in an orderly way. Knowing how to bring them together, there-fore, belongs to the study of that perfection to which we are consecrated. The person who seeks for perfection is rather like a composer who knows how to blend the voices of contralto, baritone, and bass. Coming now to your que.,stion, I say that simple and blind obedience can be joined with a spirit of intelli-gence and that this can be done in various ways. The First Way. It must be realised that the higher and the more universal the reason which governs our actions, the greater the use we make of a spirit of intelligence. Acting with a spirit of intelligence only means acting ~c-cording to reason without allowing ourselves to be moved or disturbed by any passion whatsoever. Now the highest and most universal of all reasons for acting is that of doing in everything the will of God (I expect you have seen what I have written on this matter and have also read it). But he who obeys with simplicity and purity is certain of doing the will of God who has said concerning ecclesiastical superiors: "He who hears you hears me." This is a simple but efficacious and sublime reason for acting. It contains so much good in itself that, when it is present, it renders every other reason superfluous. So you see that although obedience is called blind this is not because it is without light but because it has so much light that it does not need to take it from elsewhere. It is as though a man is said to be without light because he does not light candles when the sun shines. The Second Way. Besides this, he who obeys blindly and simply can use his spirit of intelligence in the way in which he carries out what he has been commanded. Two persons carry out a command of their superior: one of them does it without reflection, without attention, without putting his heart into the work, without think-ing of what he has been told, without endeavoring to understand what has been commanded; the other does the same work trying to know, first of all, what his supe-riot's intention was, then endeavoring to carry out that intention in the best way possible as if it were his very own. The former, you see, acts without conviction and almost in spite of himself. The other performs his duty willingly; he desires to succeed; he finds his happiness in this work since he is certain of pleasing God. The latter obeys both with simplicity and with a spirit of intelli-gence, like a living and intelligent person, not like a machine. It is obviously impossible for the superior, when he commands, to mention in detail all those things which concern the way in which the order, is to be carried out. He gives the command and then leaves the subject to carry it out. The subject who has the greater spirit of intelligence can be known immediately through observa-tion of the manner in which he carries out his duty. The Third Way. It often happens that the command is more or less general and that many things are left to the common sense of the one who receives it. In this case, the subject must be careful to note the sphere of action de-termined for him by the command of his stiperior. Within that sphere he is obliged by obedience itself to work in a personal manner, not capriciously, 9[ course, but according to sound judgment, that is to say, with a spirit of intelligence. If you consider the different members of a religious congregation, you will see that they all act through obe-dience, even the general of the order because he is subject to the pope at least. Nevertheless, obedience leaves a more or less free field to the details of their obedience. .Superiors have greater scope in this respect than subjects. According to his position, each one can .and must make use of his spirit of intelligence. In your own house, you begin from the central superior and you go down through all the other offices, each of which is subordinate to the one above and so directed by obedience. Nevertheless, all the work has to be carried out with a spirit of intelli-gence. Everyone has to use this spirit in so far as obedi-ence leaves the matter to her discretion. Take another example, a teacher or a nurse, for in-stance. Obedience imposes this work, and so the merit of obedience is present. But what a great deal of intelligent application is needed to carry it out perfectlyl And if you consider even particular commands, you will find that the greater part of them leaves some liberty where one's own intelligence can be used. For instance, you have to write a letter and have even been told in general what to write. Is it not still necessary to think carefully about the way in which the matter is to be expressed? Obedience, therefore, never determines all the actions which a person does--that would be impossible. Many commands give scope, and great scope, to the exercise of personal initia-tive. + + + Three Questions VOLUME 22~ 196~ ~ntonlo Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The Fourth Way. This concerns the observations which we make respectfully to our superiors about the commands they give us. These observations are perfectly lawful, but in order to make them with a true spirit of intelligence three conditions are required: first, that these observations spring simply from zeal for good and t.he glory of God, not from any self-interest; second, that they are not made lightly--in a word, that we do not say the first thing that comes into our head without having re-flected upon the matter; third, that they are made in spirit of submission so that if the superior insists upon his command the subject does not sulk but does what he is told with alacrity and joy. If the matter has great importance for the glory of God and it seems that what is commanded by the superior is not the right course, one can have recourse to a higher superior. This is not contrary to the simplicity of obedi-ence provided that the three conditions mentioned are put Jr;to practice. Superiors like to hear the observations of their subjects provided that these are offered in a spirit of charity and humility. If after all this it happens that what has to be done and what is done for obedience leads to some harmful effect (provided, of course, one is not treating of sin), the one who obeys has lost nothing. On the contrary, he gains because his act of obedience con-tains a mortification which is most pleasing to God. The man who mortifies himself in order to obey has taken great step forward on the road to sanctity both because he has denied his own will and because he has sacrificed his selblove and submitted his reason to a greater reason, God's very own, from which the command comes. That is suflacient for the first question. The second question is this: "How can one unite prac-tically the spirit of contemplation to an active life en-gaged in works of charity?" Since the union of holy contemplation with the exer-cise of works of charity is the aim of our congregation, follows that we must not be satisfied until we have ob-tained from God the light to join these two things in our-selves. I say that we must obtain from God the power of uniting contemplation and action in our life because the' only master who can teach us such a sublime science is, Jesus Christ Himself who gave us a most perfect example' of it. You see, this science consists in nothing else but' union, and the closest possible union, with Jesus Christ. In His mercy He has already prepared in His Church the' means necessary for this union. Even before we were born or knew how to desire them, these means were made' ready for us. What are these means, then, which enablel us to obtain this intimate and continually actuated union~ with Jesus Christ, this union which does not distract us from works of external charity but, on the contrary, im-pels us towards them and helps us to implement them? The first among them is the pure and simple intention of seeking Jesus Christ alone in all our thoughts, works, and actions. This uprightness of intention is harmed to a greater or less degree by any other affection which influ-ences our actions. It follows that our intention of seeking in everything Jesus Christ alone is not perfect if we have not given up self-love and sensuality entirely. I said, how-ever, that that intention which seeks Jesus Christ alone in everything is hurt by every affection which influences our internal or external actions because an affection or sensation which has no influence on our voluntary thoughts or words or actions (in which case the affection or sensation is entirely opposed by our will) in no way diminishes the purity of our intention. On the contrary, it gives it scope and increases it according to those words of God to St. Paul: "Virtue is made perfect in tribula-tion." The second means, which serves to help the first, con-sists in carrying out all our exercises of piety, and espe-cially our reception of the sacraments and our assistance at Mass, with the greatest possible fervor, tenderness, gratitude, sincerity, and intelligence. It is especially in these two acts of devotion that there is loving union be-tween Jesus Christ and the devout soul. The third means is that of endeavoring continually to keep alive the love of Jesus Christ in our hearts by hold-ing Him present, painted, as it were, before the eyes of the soul. We have to hear His words as they are recorded in the Gospel; we have to consider the actions which He performed during His mortal life and at the moment of His precious death (all these actions should be familiar to a spiritual person); we must apply His words and His example to ourselves and to all that we have to do; we must ask how He would act in our case and how He wishes us to act; when we are in doubt we should take advice, desiring sincerely to know and to do what is most perfect and is most pleasing to Him; we must listen to His voice with reverence and love when He speaks within US. The fourth means is that of beholding Jesus Christ in our neighbor. Whenever we have contact with our neigh-bor, we must endeavor to be of use to him in Jesus Christ and receive from him edification for ourselves. If we have a great zeal for the salvation of souls, we shall do every-thing in our power to win them and to bringlthem close to Jesus Christ. At the same time, we will wage war on useless and idle words and upon superfluous conversa-tioHnso awnedv vear,i nin c uorridoesrit yto. direct our every wo|rd/and work + 4. 4. Three Questions VOLUME 22, 1963 Antonio Rosrnini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS to the betterment of others and of ourselves, and so to bring forth fruits of eternal life, two things are necessary: primarily and principally, charity should always be ou.r guiding star; secondly, we must ask from Jesus Christ the light of His prudence which multiplies the fruits of charity. A soul that always proposes to itself the good of souls in everything that it says or does will always be recollected even in the midst of many external works be-cause its spirit is always intent on charity; and he who thinks always of the charity of Jesus Christ and has noth-ing else in his heart is always recollected in Jesus Christ and in God because the Scripture says: "God is charity." To acquire the habit which enables these four means to fructify in a constant recollection of spirit even in the midst of external occupations, it is necessary to make great efforts in the beginning and mortify oneself reso-lutely with regard to everything that distracts the mind and is opposed" to this state of recollection and of the presence of God. We must ask this grace of Jesus Christ with great constancy. Only by persevering in intense prayer can the soul be established in that permanent con-dition of quiet in God which is never lost through any' external action provided the will does not give itself to evil. Here you must realise that the power which communi-cates with God and is joined to God is different from those other powers with which we work externally. When, therefore, man has come to a certain state of con-templation and union, he works with those powers which regard external actions without placing any obstacle to that supreme power which gives him quiet and rest in God. So it is that we read of certain holy persons who, while they seemed completely taken up externally, were speaking internally with their God and Creator. And this conversation of theirs, instead of impeding them, helped them to do their external works better, just as outward actions did not turn them away from their interior~ union with God. Such a desirable state is usually obtained by those faithful and constant souls who, at the beginning, suffer much and mortify themselves greatly and pray with in-tensity and wholeheartedness. This is the state which the Sisters of Providence must strive to obtain during the time of the novitiate when they have every opportunity, if only they will use it, of binding themselves indissolubly to God, the spouse of their souls. The union begt, n then must last for the whole of their life. Those sisters who have not obtained it completely during their novitiate must strive to gain it as soon as possible, But let us pass to the third question. The third question was, then: "How can one unite per- fect zeal and an ardent desire for the perfection of charity with perfect detachment from the esteem~ of others and a sincere desire for contempt and ill use." This question is no less difficult to dea,1 with than the preceding two--to answer in practice, ,I mean, not in words. But what is difficult to Jesus Christ and to those who hope in Him and pray to Him . ?~t In order to reply to this last question~of yours, I say that it is necessary to suppose in a person h foundation of solid humility. This consists in not attributing to oneself that which belongs to God alone or to other men. Humil-ity, in fact, is only justice. It is just that m~{n should think himself nothing (because he really is such) and that he should think God everything; it is just tl~at man should recognise that glory does not appertain to !nothing but to that which is everything. Therefore he should wish for no glory for himself but the greatest possible ~glory for God. When a man knows these things, it is just ~hat he should feel a certain uneasiness when he is praised by men be-cause he who is nothing cannot desire to b~ praised with-out usurping what is not proper to him. IOn the other hand, he should be joyful when he sees that men glorify God. Man however is not only nothing. He is something worse: he is a sinner (not only because of the sins which he has committed but also because of th~se which he could have committed and would commit con. tinually if God did not have compassion on him). It lis just there-fore that he should desire to be despised[and that he should rejoice when he is ill treated by mefl. Sentiments of this nature must be unshakeable and deeply implanted in the soul of a religious person. Nevertheless, this per-son must realise also that although man is a, lnothing and moreover subject to every sin, Jesus Christ lias redeemed him through His mercy freely given; He h~s saved him and clothed him with Himself in such a maqner that the Christian bears the adornments of Jesus Christ. These are more or less rich and precious according io the abun-dance of virtues, of merits, and of grace poss,essed by the Christian. A man who finds himself adorned in this man-ner is indeed mad if this causes pride in him. On the other hand, if he realises that all these treasures are given to him freely and through no merit of his own, he will humble himself and attribute to God alone dhe glory of them without usurping for himself even the sdaallest part of that glory. Yet, just as God has given to man theset'reasures of v~rtue and of grace through a wholly gratmtous love, so also He makes h~m a paruc~pator of H~s own glory. Once more, though, man must not consider this glo',ry which is g~ven to him as his own but as belonging to Jisus Christ 4, Three Questions VOLUMF 22~ 1963 4. 4. ÷ Antonio Rosmini REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS who, through His mercy, has wished to pour it out upon those who believe in Him, and to allow them a share it. With all this well understood, we can formulate certain rules which enable us to unite a desire of perfecting onr works of charity with detachment from self-esteem and, moreover, with a sincere desire of contempt (a most pre-cious thing). The rules are the following. First Rule. Generally speaking we must not give any occasion for contempt, at least through our own fault. When, despite this, we are belittled~ we must receive our humiliation with joy as something precious; we must thank God for it without fearing that it will damage our works of charity because, even if some damage does re-sult from it, this is desired by the Lord for His own ends. We ought not to turn away from it but trust in Provi-dence which will know how to obtain greater good h'om the immediate evil. Second Rule. We must never do anything whatever to gain praise from men. To do so is a most despicable act. When praise doescome of its own accord, we must at-tribute it to Jesus Christ to whom alone it belongs; we must, for our part, fear it as a danger and take precau-tions against it by internal acts of humility and contempt of ourselves; we must protest that we do not want to re-ceive it as a part of our reward. After this, if we find that praise is useful towards the perfection of our works of charity, we can take pleasure in it provided that this pleasure concerns the perfection of charity. We must not refer it simply to ourselves and we must be careful that no feeling of vanity or pride arise from it. On the con-trary, after we have received praise we should prepare ourselves for greater humiliation, persuaded that praise has made us no better than we were before. Third Rule. When we realise that the praise has been exaggerated, we should be displeased because this is con-trary to truth and justice. We should attribute it to the large heart of the one who gives it. Fourth Rule. In order to know whether we are really detached ourselves, we must see if we are glad when others are praised. You especially must ask yourselves whether you rejoice when praise is given to your sisters. Even the very smallest dislike or jealousy on this account would be a very great defect. You must be generous with others but especially with your sisters; you must consider their virtues far more than their vices; and you must try to maintain, by just means always, the esteem which others give them. Everyone must be ready to turn praise away from herself and see that it goes instead to her sis-ters. Each one must wish to be first with the work in hand and the last to be praised. This is not a dit~icult thing when a person considers his own defects and the virtues of others; when he no longer judges or condemns the defects of others; when he leaves ~ll judgment to God to whom alone it belongs; when he puts into prac-tice the lesson which Jes.us Christ tau :ht with these words: "Do not judge and you will not be judged. In fact, exposing oneself to the danger of j, " " one's brethern is the same as doing tlztdging wrongly ¯Therefore, in order not to be in danger o~ em an injury. lnj"us ¯uce against them, one must abstain [croom mevitetrinyg d aen-finitive judgment which may harm them. tions as the answers occurred to me. I hope that, if you meditate and do all this, you ever more dear to God and assure for your mortal crown. Your most affectionate fat~ Filth Rule. We must never speak of th ings for which we can be praised-~even the world considers this wrong. Moreover, although we ought not to bl'ame ourselves without good motives, nevertheless we ought to strive to cover up our virtues as far as we can andI to speak con-temptuously of ourselves sometimes provided so with sincerity This i . ¯ ~ .we can do you are speaking with yo~u rp rsaislsteewrso orrm wy iethspl et~cmerlsloyn ws h"en wh.om you are friendly, provided, once mo~, that itwl~tahs a s~ncere foundation. My dear sisters in Christ, I have replied t.o your ques- ,n our Lord will become seives an lin-er in Christ, A.R. ÷ Three Questions VOLU~ ~:,, SISTER JEAN DE MILAN, S.G.C. Toward Greater Maturity ÷ ÷ Sister Jean de Mi-lan, S.G.C., teaches psychology at Rivier College; Nashua, New Hampshire. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 518 The compatibility of neurosis and religion has re-ceived considerable attention in the psychological litera-ture of the last. thirty years. It is argued that sanctity re-quires a certain integrity in the psychic order,1 that man's struggle for perfection is directly proportionate to his mental equilibrium.2 There is no doubt, then, as to the importance of mental health in religious life where men and women consecrate themselves to God by vows to practice the evangelical counsels of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Religious commit themselves to community living and they depend mostly on one another for the works of the community and for companionship. It takes only elemental charity to prompt one to look into the dynamics of a neurosis in search of the elements incom-patible with a religious life. It is now an accepted fact that without being diagnosed psychoneurotics everyone exhibits neurotic symptoms at irregular intervals. It will be the purpose of this paper to identify these neurotic traits and to suggest measures within the framework of a religious life which can help to attenuate if not to eradicate the troublesome symptoms. The paper will be developed along twelve characteris-tics listed by Schneiders as typical of neurotic person-alities: immaturity and sensitivity, self-centeredness, un-realistic ego ideal, rigidity and anxiety, isolation, ag-gression against self, mental conflict, lack of control, sug-gestibility, irresponsibility, lack of sense of humor, and emotional instability,s These traits can be found in many people including religious; it is only when they become x Jordan Aumann, "Can Neurotics Be Saints?" Cross and Crown, v. 5 (1953), pp. 458-59. s Robert Meskunas, "Sanity and Sanctity: An Inquiry into the Compatibility of Neurosis and Sanctity," Bulletin o] the Guild o] Catholic Psychiatrists, v. 7 (October, 1960), p. 248. s Alexander A. Schneiders, Personal Adjustment and Mental Health (New York: Rinehart, 1955), pp. 390-95. a consistent and persistent pattern that/one speaks of a neurotic personality. As a type of adjustment, it is in-adequate and it represents an meffioent and unwhole-some effort to meet the demands and rdsponsibilities of daily living. / 1. Immaturity,and Sensitivity The neurotics immaturity makes allI problems and frustrations loom large and menacing, IThis tendency, often paired with regression, connotes not only loss mature habits of behavior but a consequ~ent progressive inadequacy of response. The neurotic be.comes decreas-ingly able to meet the ordinary demands for social living and begins to withdraw from acuve part~opauon, m group acuwty. He does not master hfe ~ut expects life to look after him. He is unusually sensitive to comments concerning himself and cannot tolerate/any form criticism. His sensitivity makes the stresses~ and threats of reality almost unbearable¯ Religious life favors the cultivation of a/Christianper-sonality through the development of a perfect life---~ne exquisitely balanced, of noble service to ohe's neighbor, a life most happily modeled on Christ Hi~aself. In lead-ing to spiritual maturity, religious life de~aands of one constant and close personal contacts in theI common life which comprises factors capable of actualizing the po-tentialities of the individual. To be a constructive and mature power, the individual personality ]nust exercise itself through activity upon others. Religious who can be characterized by "immaturity and sensitivity" are likely to be living in a sElf-contained world. They have refused to walk through the doors swinging outward where the self can be ektended and actualized. 2. Self-Centeredness Neuroticism is characterized by a life which is, in some respects, self-centered. It is ~mmatunty s firs.t ally. The neurotic makes his ego the center of the universe; good is what is good for the ego, bad only what unpleasant to it. Menninger, a renowned psychiatrist, b~lieves that Christ Himself laid down one of the pnnople~s of mental health that is now recognized as of paramo,unt impor-tance. Matthew, Mark, and Luke all quoted Christ when they said: "For whosoever will save his life s~all lose it, but whosoever will lose his life for my sake will save it." What better can condense the attributes of a mature per-sonality? "Some men can love others enough~ to derive ¯ more satisfaction from that than from being lo~ved them-selves. It is still a magnificent precept. If you can follow VOLUME 22, 1963 ,519 it, you will never have to make a date with a psychia-trist." 4 Religious life, because of its theocentric plan, teaches a person to surmount his egocentricity. It also provides a basis for satisfactory interpersonal relations and cha:r-ity toward fellow men in the fatherhood of God instead of in changing human sentiments.5 The spirit of self-abnegation and self-denial is fundamental to the re-ligious life. Religious are called to share one mind, one heart, one life, one love in Christ. Their social service is motivated by the love of God in the neighbor. Self-love, then, tends to decrease as a function of one's love. for others. The paradox of a self-centered religious be-comes a serious indictment. + + + Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3. Unrealistic Ego Ideal The neurotic harbors an almost pathological ego ideal which prevents him from achieving a realistic attitude toward the issues and problems of daily life. His goal is a purely idealized and often artificial one. The ego ideal, the self one wants to become, may take the form of an ideal of personal conduct or it may be identified with certain desired accomplishments. The purpose of the ideal is to bring about identification with it in view of self-actualization. It emphasizes the forward movement or activity that is characteristic of living or-ganisms. The personal pattern of tendencies is projected into the future. This orientation toward future goals is commonly accepted by psychologists as a mark of matu-rity. Obviously, it reaches its highest perfection in re-ligion where man is oriented toward his ultimate goal.e Religion aims primarily at bringing persons closer to God, and by doing so it may secondarily promote their mental health. When a person believes that God assists him in a very personal way, life's perplexities and emo-tional crises become relatively unimportant. With such a clear-eyed notion of God, of His claims on the indi-vidual and His plans for him, the religious has a reliable and stable framework upon which to build a plan of life. Religion is the supreme moral virtue dominating his interior life and his relations to other human beings, and the religious view of life becomes the philosophy which dominates both thought and conduct.7 Such a man is strengthened by the sense of his own personal dignity. ' Schneiders, Personal Adjustment, p. 160. ~ James H. VanderVeldt and Robert P. Odenwald, Psychiatry and Catholicism (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1952), p. 185. e James E. Royce, Personality and Mental Health (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1955), p. 277. ~ Thomas Verner Moore, Personal Mental Hygiene (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1944), p. 236. A religious has only to gauge his serentty to evaluate himself on this trait. 4. Rigidity and Anxiety The neurotic's rigidity and anxiety d, not allow ~him to adapt to changing situations. Flexibility, suppleness, and malleability are the signs of life. I Rigidity, rigor mortis, is the sign of death. Such is the sta'te of the person who lacks malleability, whose personali~,y is excessively rigid'S Fear and anxiety, the very core of neurosis, are emo-tions which generally assume a rather egoistic character. It is well known and readily accepted thatldiffuasnexiety is reduced in the neurotic by the development of somatic symptomatology, exther phys~ogentc or psychogemc ~n nature. The physical symptoms then bdcome ways of structuring the anxiety¯ Anxiety may result from dejection flowing from one's inabilityto realize his ambitions; it maylbe due to in-jured vanity. There are surprisingly few neurotics' among people who are genuinely humble. Real Ihumil!ty is a prophylaxis against the anxieties one encounters ~n every day human interaction, for the truly huml~le person not only recognizes his own weaknesses and limperfections but he remains peaceful when his deficiencies are recog-nized by others also.9 One who has consecrated himself to God by religious vows is officially the spouse of Christ. Bu~ one can be officially the bride of Christ without having made in reality a complete sacrifice of himself in which his will is identified with and absorbed in the will of God, or without having attained to that psychologtcal state that St. John of the Cross designates as "spiritual ,matrimony." This state results in a cessation of all anxiety and a men-tal state of peace and delightA0 It is quitd remarkable how religious experiences tend to the moral perfectton of the one who has them. They give him a be~ter mode of adjustment in his relations to other humanl beings and a spiritualized conception of the nature of t~ials. 5. Isolation There is a certain amount of hostility in .he neurotic make-up coupled wtth tnabthty to get along w~th others. The psychoneurotm ts essenually a maladjusted personal- 8 Charles J. D. Corcoran, "Types Suited or Unsuited for Religious Vocation," Proceedings o] the Eighth Annual Convocation o[ the Vocation Institute (Notre Dame: Notre Dame Press, 1955), p. 33. 0 Raphael C. McCarthy, Sa]eguarding Mental Health! (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1937), p. 253. lOThomas Verner Moore, The Driving Forces o[ H~man Nature (New York: Grune and Stratton, 1948), pp. 421-22. ÷ ÷ ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 521 4. Sister lean de Milan, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ity and the victim of a bad system of mental habits. isolation results from a group of defense reactions, in-cluding primarily the fundamental biological reactions of defense and avoidance. The neurotic withdraws from his social group and becomes a nuisance even unto him-self. Man is a social being whose ultimate destiny is bound up with his observance of the great commandment dual charity. His perfection as a person is analogous to that of a seed which, to bear fruit, must grow outside of of itself. Religious growth in perfection can be measured in terms of one's serviceability to and influence on others. A life in the service of God and man, a wholehearted de-votion to the ideal of religious life, appears as the realiza-tion of our friendship with God. The profound feeling of loneliness and sense of isolation one experiences oc-casionally can be cured by a sincere trust in God, our friend. 6. Aggression Against Sell Neurotics are characterized by a great deal of petulance, annoyance with others, sensitivity to their at-titudes and behavior, readiness to quarrel and to find fault, and so on. Self-hatred as well as hatred of reality underlies both the spiritual and emotional disturbance. Aggression against self flows from conceited pride which has a twofold weakening effect: one of walling up its victim from reality and the other of making him super-sensitive to anything that might be construed to indicate a belittling attitude on the part of others,ix Running through all these neurotic ups and downs is a thread of chronic dissatisfaction and hopelessness which pre:;ents the eternal problem of "to be or not to be." The neurotic tries to evade the problem but no evasion is possible. He goes on unhappy and feeling offended and disregarded while it is within his power to modify, change, develop, and perfect his attitudes of mind, his emotional reac-tions, and the habits that fall under the competence of the will. It may call for the adoption of a new plan of life. Religious life, by having one strive towards the per-fection of a Christian personality, calls for a conscious development along the lines of private and social con-duct. Weekly confession is productive of a healthy ac-ceptance of one's shortcomings without introspective brooding. One is helped to come to a realistic acknowl-edgement of one's place, one's assets and liabilities, and one's dignity and dependence on God. Meditation is also a great promoter of insight. n James A. Magner, Personality and $uccessIul Living (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1945), p. 44. Mental Conflict Since it is the nature of conflict to pull the organism in different directions at the same time, deep-seated neurotic conflict is bound to disrupt the organization of personality. In the concept of. conflictI the conscience principle is of supreme importance; for it often happens that there is no real conflict between desire and its mere physical fulfillment, or between desire a~d one's sense of expediency, but that it is mainly and al~ove all between desire and the sense of duty. When impulse and fear are in conflict, the neurotic tries to resolve the conflict not by cont.trolling the im-pulse but instead by evasion and decep, uon. The fear results in behavior which seeks grauficauon while trying to keep punishment from occurring; thits strategy com-monly involves secrecy and falsehood. Th~ neurotic seeks to avoid social disapproval, but his conscle, nce hurts him. Attempts at repression may be unsuccessful and the in-dividual may resort to neurotic symptoms. Rehg~on, by reason of its experiences, behefs, and prac-uces, ~s eminently stated to the reducuon of damagxng conflict, feelings, and frustrations. It constantly reminds one of the intrinsic value and dignity of man, and of the fact that he is created to the image and likeness of God; there is no better way to offset the traumatic effects of in-feriority and the feeling of personal worthl~essness. There can be no more solid anchor than trust in! divine provi-dence and in the belief of His personal interest in each of His creatures. Conformity to the will of th~ all-wise God makes life's sorrows and fears bearable. Whlen a religious weakens under the burden of mental conflitcts, it will be wise for him to work out the debits and credits of his conduct in terms of self-will and will of G~d. 8. Lack of Control When the emotions are chronically ou~[ of control, some degree of neurosis exists. There is no neurosis with-out some evidence of failure in control an~t integrative functions. Integration presupposes wisdom ~in the intel-lect and character in the will--a scale of lvalues, self-knowledge, and habits of self-control. Most o,[ the neurot-ics are recruited among those whose will power is undeveloped. Stability amid the ups and downs of emotional moods is essential to both physical and mental heal~.h. Here the virtues of fortitude and temperance play their part. Re-ligion gives moral principles with a bac,king which makes them easier to hold onto when the going is hard. Meditation, a daily spiritual exercise for all religious, Moore, Mental Hygiene, p. 306. 4. Maturity VOLUME 22, 1963 ÷ ÷ $i~tet lean d~ Milan, $.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 524 readjusts their thinking to a proper sense of values. Be-sides, one is not allowed to elude the dynamics of grace for any considerable time when one truly lives his re. ligious life. 9. Suggestibility Suggestibility is closely linked with emotional im-maturity and harmful dependency. The suggestible neu-rotic is controlled by an idea or by someone else rather than by himself. His want of self-confidence makes him dependent upon others so that he leans on their judg-ments and readily yields to suggestion. He is vacillating in his purposes, uncertain in his opinions, fearful of re-sponsibility, and reluctant to assume the initiative in any activity. Such feelings batter at a person's mental in-tegrity until it is weakened or destroyed.13 Suggestibility resembles "lack of control" inasmuch as it implies lack of integration. The greater one's erno-tional vulnerability, the greater will be the predisposition to neurotic reactions. No doubt the neurotic is happier with his neurosis than he would be without it in view of all the circumstances external and internal as he per-ceives them; however, he lacks the happiness of an inte-grated personality. What VanderVeldt said of religion can be said of re-ligious life: "The condition for the mental health value of religion is that people truly live their religion.TM Perhaps not all people who are supposed to be religious and become neurotic have made their religious convic-tions an integral part of their lives. 10. Irresponsibility Sense of responsibility is the realization that one has certain duties and obligations to fulfill and the deter-mination to fulfill them to the best of one's abilities. Sense of responsibility and the willingness to accept obli-gations are dependent to a great extent on maturity. The comparison is often made of a neurosis being a closed door that bars dyn~imic development for the neu-rotic. If the doors of the neurotic hell are locked from the inside, the psychotherapist can only help the patient find the key. This is not an easy task as the neurotic pa-tient clings to his symptoms even though he is disturbed by them and seeks psychiatric help. The neurosis is a way of life that is pleasant to the neurotic, especially when he is able to manipulate the environment to meet his selfish needs. The ability to assume responsibility is in large part a McCarthy, SaIeguarding Mental Health, p. 266. VanderVeldt and Odenwald. Psychiatry and Catholicism, p. 193. matter of moral courage¯ One who has honest religious convicuons feels obhged to do something worthwhile for God and for man. He turns aside from the unwholesome pursuit of selfish pleasures. Religious Iprinciples direct his mind to the purpose of life, and in/so doing they do not deprive him of pleasure but' give it i~ abundance and permanence as he attains the great purp, ose of life in the service of God and man. If he has adopted the religious ideal with enthusiasm, then it become~ a powerful in-hibitory force against the development of unwholesome mental conditions.15 11. Lack ol Sense of Humor A good sense of humor is one of the c iteria of mental health and adjustment. It is not found in the neurotic whose life is humorless, a drab affair d~ minated by ill-ness, conflict, frustration, dissatisfaction, ~and discourage-ment. Humor is based on the perception of incongruities; it is a feeling of surprise, the joyous shock Iof discovery in our appreciation of life's incongruities. To find these con-trasts we must be self-detached,.account ourselves of little ¯ importance, look outwards and not rewards, feel drawn to people and to th~ngs ~n thanksgxwng; for humor ~s the reward o1: a wxll-to-commumty. "Wlll-to-cornmumty ~s not to be understood as a fixed determ~nauon to hve with the community but rather the will td live in a com-munity as a grateful member of a crowd,°r group. Hu-mor should be the natural endowment oflall thowsheo seek to live in religion. The test of a true sense of humor is the capacity to laugh with others at one's self; but that i~ not all. One must discover the reason for such laughter. One must learn to discover in the laughter of others s~omething like a comphment. True humor ~s akin to brotlierly love and sympathy; ~t brads us closer together and relaxes all un- ! due tensions. There is nothing so effecuve in checking the ingrowing pains of pride as a sense of h~umor. People who take themselves too seriously need the ~antidote of a good laugh to reduce values to their true llevel and to declare a permanent moratorium on manyI of their pet grievances and frustrated ambitions.17 A sense of humor combats anxiety, which is a blight on the ~ehg~ous life, by exercising the mind in a way which develops a living, vibrant suppleness. Cheerfulness is the siga which ac-companies sacrifices made out of true love, the love of God. Gloom and sadness are the signs of s~lcrifice made ~ Moore, Mental Hygiene, pp. 244-45. xo Ferdinand Valentine, The Apostolate o[ Chastity (Westminster: Newman, 1954), p. 15. x7 Magner, Personality and Success]ul Living, p. 48. ÷ Maturity VOLUME 22~ 1963 out of self-love, out of vainglory. A" sense of humor enables one to behd without breaking under the weight: of the cross, to see the proportion between the suffering,; of this life and the glory of the next, and to see oneself in the humble relationship of creature to Creator. 12. Emotional Instability Emotional instability is a dominant feature of the neurotic personality and a primary determinant of the neurotic's difficulties. Along with his emotional change-ability and high general emotionality, he exhibits be-havior that is characteristic of a spoiled child. There is an intimate connection between mental and moral health. Wholesome effective living and mental stability require an adequate scale of values, or philos-ophy of life, and a set of worthwhile attitudes and habits. These qualities can be provided more efficaciously and more abundantly by religion than anything else in one's life. Only moral virtue can give a healthy, integrated personality. The virtues moderate one's emotions and temperament, bringing them into balance. A virtuous life will result in unity and integration of personality. Summary and Conclusion Religious are not immune to neurotic behavior; at one time or another, a religious is likely to exhibit neu-rotic traits. But by its very nature, the religious life can help one counteract the possible neurotic tendencies. A brief discussion of the positive contributions of religious life to mental health was introduced with the discussion of each neurotic trait. The religious man or woman of humble faith in God, of daily prayer and consultation with God, of devotion to his or her religious duties as God has given light to see them has the assurance of a full perspective on life, health of mind, peace of soul, and a view of time in the light of eternity,is ~s James A. Magner, Mental Health in a Mad World (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1953), p. 298. 4. Sister Jean de Milan, S.G.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 526 ROBERT j. KRUSE, C.S.C. Au in Religio 'From a supernatural point of view, th, exercise of re-ligious authority and the practice of ehg~ous obedience are meaningful only when conceived as~ participations in the authority and in the obedience of Christ our Lord. eAd::a°~n:r~ ~Vreo~tern~p. t to understand authority and obedi- . ~ a ~nrist-centered way of ~ife, we become gud~ of gloss misunderstanding In such }a situ . - gardless ot the reasonableness "a n d t h et ingenudittlyO oIlf~ oreu-r solutions to the problems which religiouslauthority and religious obedience pose, such solutions remain void of genuine supernatural worth. In discussing authority and obedience, therefore, our first and constant care must be to associate them with our life in Christ. ~therwise our discussion will remain purely human and natural and a ~. consequence sterile Attempts ,~ ~-~ - ~-,. ¯ s. hfe~as ~,s Christian a"nd relig~io tu~s x lcifaett~ ~m Uu~lvt lbnee wanaal~zffd in divine terms. To confront supernatural reality with purely natural reflections betokens a wand of reverence ~r~he g~dly way of life with which we ~re ~a . ~st our Lord. ~ ceu ~n In this article we will speak of authority in the r - ligious life. In a subsequent article we will ~er some r~ flections on religious obedience. Of the t~o topics the latter is the more all,cult. Both are intimately connected. Afith~rity and obedience are relative terms so that what-ever ,s said o~ the one necessarily contains implications for the other. In our discussion of authority ~e ~ill group our considerations about three focal poiqts: first, re-ligious authority and the mystery o[ the ~ncarnation; second, religious authority and the imitation of Christ our Lord; and third, religious authority and] the mystery o~ the Redemption. Divine life flows to the souI through many channels. Ultimately, however, all of those channels drink at a sole spring and that spring is Christ. It is He who gives ÷ ÷ Robert J. Kruse, C.S.C;, is a faculty member ot? Holy Cross Fathers Semi-nary; North Easton, Massachusetts. VOLUME 22, 1965 Robert CK,~.Ce., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 528 to the soul living water, "a fountain of water, springing up unto life everlasting" (Jn 4:14). What is it that the Christian and that the religious seeks? He seeks a share in the life of God. For without a share in the life of the eternal God, man is deprived of all eternal significance. Unless a man looks outside of himself to a higher order, to the transcendent order, to God, in search of an ex-planation for his own existence, unless a man looks be-yond self to Another for the fulfillment of his own noblest hopes, he remains imprisoned without hope in the finite, in the created, in the temporal order--with no more persona/significance than that of any other transi-tory phenomenon. Ultimately, all religious questions re-duce themselves to this sole question: the nature of man's relationship to God, the possibility of man's sharing in the life of God. For apart from such a possibility man becomes merely a moment in time. And self is incapable, totally incompetent to satisfy its own profoundest aspira-tions. So that man seeks a way out of the maze of human, created, and limited reality, finite love, imperfect good-ness and truth, a way which will lead him to the enjoy-ment eternally of unlimited reality, infinite love, perfect truth. That way is Christ. Christ is the sole way. There is no other way. Among all communications of divine life, none re-motely approaches that enjoyed by the holy humanity of Christ our Lord. For in all truth the human intellect, the human will, and the human body of our Savior are the intellect, will, and body of a divine person. No created being save the holy humanity of Christ, that hu-manity f.ull of grace and of truth, enjoys this personal union with God. Truly in the womb of the Virgin Mary are celebrated the nuptials of God and of man. In the mystery of the Incarnation, we witness the wedding of the divine and the human in the person of the Word made flesh. And in virtue of His holy humanity, the Son may be said to render perfect obedience to His Father and our Father. "Therefore in coming into the world, he says., a body thou hast fitted to me .B.ehold, I come., to do thy will, O God" (Heb 10:5-7). It is indeed significant that because of His obedience our Savior is glorified and exalted. "Appearing in the form of man, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to death, even to death on a cross. Therefore God also has exalted him" (Phil 2:7-9). It is equally significant that because of His obedience our Savior lays claim to His Mystical Body, the Church, and wins authority over that Body. "Christ is head of the Church, being himself savior of the body," so that, "the Church is subject to Christ" (Eph 5:23-24). God has made all things "subject under hwihsi cfhe eint,d eaendd i sh hiims b hodey ""a (vEepn hea a2so: 2 'o2-v--e2 r-~ ,a) . r/t t,h, e_ C h u r c h., indeed would onlyY g uruhdrigsitn. gOlyn athssee ontth teor lhthaen dw, imll aon y." sup.eriors. The obvious explanatiofi is a~t hand: ~h:uir. Perxor" ,s not Chtr. iIsn d e e d , t h e s u p e./rior ma n be conspicuously Christlike T~;o ~.2, .y ot. even. course, irrelevant. For the. s.u. p,~er-i~olras naauttlhoonr iat s", .ot authority of Christ even if tbo . ¯ ,~ - y as the --- ~uperaor § conauct is far t~oro gmr ~asnpr itshtlei kper.o Tfohuen rdo osti gonf itfhicea pnrcoeb olefm.~/tihiees I innc aa rfnaailtuioren. God has willed to use human channels fo~" the communi-cation of divine life. First and foremost, t~e holy human-ity of the Word Incarnate. That humani,ty is, of course, "tried as we are in all things except sin" ~Heb 4:15). But in His Mystical Body the Incarnation ~1of the eternal Word is extended through all the centuries of man's pilgrimage in exile. And to His Body C~rist has com-municated His authority. In the Church~.~which is the prolongation through history of the mystery of th c,.,arn.auo.n--davme life is communicated ;,,! ,.~" .~__ t, oa. lhe Church can do this only becaus~ Christ is her Head; and in Christ human nature has lald claim on the divine, on the life of God. So that in th~ Church, the Body of Christ, the perfection and humanity receives truly divine gifts, fduilflfneess of Chri.~t's There is, of course, this crucial our Savior's fence between is --' r-. ,., r~.er ~s holy, perfectly sinl,~ss; the latter str~lYesP:~t~ut~iYn "fer~n'wnghi21.y. In the lmeantime it ~vL~.rot~uide of the holiness of its Hena ~dt. sBeuetk ws rite.~h:daelm Cphtriiosnt oin r - h.as c,o,.mmumcate.d to His Mystical B.bdy a arti~i- ~m,~e, ~sni.n ~f.un ltnaless osw on[ a tuhttaato Mrit"ys, tai c~aa]r-t i_cri, ~.,.;.~ i ~soay cann~o, ~t msucbnv eevretn. t~r,~a, ~,~,,.e~ m_t_ynstee.rry l nofta t}hlie. bIlnec naronra itmm.np ercecmabalien si m~ plliivciirt~lyg aty today and everyday. Such religious are ~unwilling to admit that divine life can be communicated to them through human channels---channels ¯ frailties which the very term "humans"u ibmjepclite tso. Talhlu tsh ien our treatment of authority, perhaps our basic need is to emphasize more the "humanness" of it~that it is the ex- ÷ tension and continuation of the mystery of ~he Incarna-tion, the m)stery of God's making His own a human ÷ nature in order thereby to redeem human nature. y our Loro resid " ~mperfect and sinful human bein¢~. . I , ~ an --~, we mUSt also alIlrm ~ut~i~y VOLUME 22t 1963 5,?,9 4" 4" Robert Kru~e, C£.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 53O that it is a duty incumbent upon those in authority to become increasingly perfect and sinless. In this effort those in authority have a sure guide: our Lord's exercise of authority. We have here a question not of what author-ity might be but of what authority must be. That is to say, there is an obligation for those in authority to ad-minister their trust in a Christlike manner. It is not, therefore, a question of some vague, elusive ideal but rather a question of serious moral obligation. Of cour:;e, as in every creaturely .undertaking, perfection is never totally realized. That does not, however, render its quest any less imperative. What, in more concrete .terms, does the Christlike exercise of authority involve? Fundamental, it seems to us, is the sense of service. "But Jesus called them (the apostles) to him and said, 'You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. Not so is it .among you. On the contrary, whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant; and whoever wishes to be first among you, shall be your slave; even as the Son of Man has not come to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many' " (Mt 20:25-28). In the last analysis it is the functidn of those in authority in the religious life to contribute by their direction to "building up the Body of Christ, until we all attain to the unity of the faith and of the deep knowledge of the Son of God, to perfect manhood, to the mature measure of the fullness of Christ" (Eph 4:12--13). Religious authority, then, stands in service of Christ's Mystical Body. The superior must never forget that his commands are addressed to a subject in whom the Spirit of Christ dwells. Let those commands never grieve that Spirit. Authority's commands must come from Christ: and be directed to Christ. That is, the superior must speak words which are sensitive to the Spirit of Christ within himself--words which the Spirit of Christ within the subject recognizes as springing from a kindred Spirit. It is the same Christ who both commands and obeys. Con-siderations of a purely human kind, attitudes which re-flect a purely natural assessment of the nature of author-ity-- these are entirely out of place and constitute a degradation of religious authority. Fundamentally, the superior's role is to act as an instrument for the more per-fect rule of the Spirit of Christ over the hearts and over the conduct of those vowed to religious obedience. In the fulfillment of this role, external trappings de-signed to enhance authority's position are of dubious value. One of the most gifted theoIogians in the Church today writes in connection with this point: In the life of the cloister there are still to be found age-old rituals governing the etiquette of superiors, involving demands of respect from subjects, secretiveness, ma ifestations of su-periority, appeals of superiors to a hi her wi ¯ 5°.? escens,o etc. All hould m' ,hs?lay . or w.Juter away. ~UDerlors s .,~a o ~ ~ permitted to me worm aroudd ,~.~ cast a long ~nd quiet lance at fluential, who re~e~'L~ff?c, . w~o ~re truly ]powerfu~ and in- ¯ ~ a ~reat ~ea/ ot unquestioning obedience pompous front. Superiors should oyu, inetflly i andsmeciut trhitayt ibne cheirntadi na Circumstances their subjecu know ~ore than ' matter at hand? ~ey do about displays of condescension "ro~w st o:- these ourel x , . y e 3ernal competence of the superi8or m proDort~on to ¯ . The truly l~r--- the ~n recognizes spontaneously the 7 ~ cat superior speaking, of all these trappings.i nInsi gthniisf ircea~nacred, ist pisir situuraelllyy salutary to read and meditate upon our Eord's r " . sh~p w~th H~s apostles. Nowhere in the ,ospelse~a~'°~e find our Lord making a fuss over SUch trivia, "You me Master and Lord, and you say well, fqr so call therefore, I the Lord and Master have wasOed yIo aumr f~e eIft,, you also ought to wash the feet of one a,nother. ~i~ ~u ]~ ~x~le, that as I hav~ done t~J ~ ~ ~noum oo (in 13:13-15). Regarding the matter of superiors' see~I i'ng coun~s e' l, some reflections are in order. Today, perha~ps more than at any time in the past, given 'the comolekit o tieth-cent . t Y f twen- . ury apostohc activity, it ~s'urgent ~hat superiors tsheeek i nadspviicrae.t iHonolsy o Mf oththee Hr tohle. ,C ch~ur:c_h:, .e v e ~ .s-e ~ns .i t~"ve to necessity in th~ ~-:-~'o- u s y r ~uVle-s- tw~,h picrohw sohees dd oto~tr tohvise ~ve ~rv 5nao-tt -t.hueg amd- vo¯rice es eorniol ubsu -ot uestions t-h.~ ~,k,u .~. .~ o tfLter n r~e" ulres y the consent of councId.ors asq well. Superiors should gladly reco~ize the Chu ~ch's w" -~d-~ta_g ~ersd taoi nojne gg aai~nde dw firlolimng sleye akvina~il ctohue-m~s :e1l~v,e_s7 o.~'-t~sff~ any reason w ,, the., .k_. ,. ,o . ,,o~,. l~or is there sistance and ehn~l i,g~hyt e~n-mouelnat ctoo nthnonsee t /o~eciria sl~l,a arpcpho fionrt eads-for this task. To put the matter very frankl ~: the Holy Spirit is perfectly capable of inspiring eact and every religious in a community with both a supern ttural view-point and useful practical suggestions re. arding the apostolic work entrusted to the communit, blu.n gtin the s " ' . , Far from + we!gh carefullyu tbhjee cstusp mernmaatut~ravl em, ethrieto s u- e~-'m--r sh,ou!d courage the religious to appropriate ~aoc otit oa n~ wtophoesnal ,p eon-s-sible, and in every case welcome the subject's interest and enthusiasm. It is false to suppose that ;vorthwhile l0 t0 K9~ar0l )R, aph,n 3e~r,4 S. .J . , " R e f l e c t i o n s o n O b c, dience," Crc Currents v. Authority VOLUM~ 22, 1963 Robert K~,r~u.~se,., REVIEW FOR REL)GIOUS ideas can emanate exclusively from those in authority. Such an attitude is an affront to the Holy Spirit. Related to the matter of seeking counsel is the matter of openness. Some superiors, regrettably, are excessively secretive even regarding insignificant daily directives. Many of their undertakings are shrouded with an aura.of mystery. The real mystery is what advantage they think derives from such a procedure. It is small wonder that subjects fail to display much enthusiasm for the su-perior's proposals when they are rarely invited to share in the superior's confidence. We would recommend to such superiors prayerful reflection on the words of our Lord spoken in the intimacy of the Last Supper. "No longer do I call you servants, because the servant does not know what his master does. But I have called you friends, because all things that I have heard from my Father I have made.known to you" On 15:15). What a contrast between the conduct of our Lord towards iHis apostles and the conduct of some superiors towards their religious. In this connection it is most helpful for supe-riors to cultivate within their communities a family spirit and that holy familiarity which the term "family" suggests. Nothing is to be gained by remaining aloof and distant. How can one who is aloof and distant touch and quicken the hearts of his subjects with the Spirit.of Christ? We might consider many other practical questions re-garding the Christlike exercise of authority. More im-portant, though, than coming to grips with parti(:ular problems is grasping the ideal which will serve as a guide for the resolution of every problem. That ideal is at once easy to understand and difficult to practice. What would our Lord do if He were in my place? How would He handle this problem? How would He win to Himself this person? To be a good superior demands intimate knowl-edge of our Lord and constant docility to the inspirations of His Spirit. Finally, some comments regarding authority and the mystery of the Redemption. The religious life, as all Christian life, is at the same time both incarnational and eschatological in character. It looks beyond the temporal order to the creation of new hea,~ens and a new earth. Indeed, the mystery of the Incarnation is itself the prin-ciple of this transformation. God makes Himself a sharer in our humanity only that we in turn might: share in His divinity. And ultimately our divinization will be accomplished solely by our personal sharing in the mys-tery of the Redemption. We must make our own the mys-tery of Christ's passover from death to life. With Christ, the great wayfarer, we journey each day through ter-restrial exile and affliction to our celestial dwelling and resurrection. "Wherefore we do not los! heart. On the contrary, even though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by d~y. For our pres-ent light affliction, which is for the moment, prepares for us an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all measure (2 Cor 4:16-17). Every Christian in the fulfillment of h, is vocation en-counters the cross of Christ. Justly does Saint Paul declare that we are ' always beanng about ~n our Ibody the dying of Jesus, so that the life also of Jesus maylbe made mani-fest in our bodily frame" (2 Cor 4:10). Certainly the re-hg~ ous superior ~s no exception to th~s rule. The exercise of authority is a cross. The superior shoul~l willingly em-brace that cross recognizing that only by Isharing in the mystery of the cross is self-love subject to passion and to death and the love of God to renewal and ~o resurrection. "This saying is true: If we have died withI him, we shall also live with him; if we endure, we shall rilso reign with him" (2 Tim 2:11-12). To exercise authority with anxious care is the supe-riot's cross. It requires no small self-sacnfic,e. On the con-trary, thanks to the constant demands of all kinds made ¯ upon his time, his energies, and his interest, the superior is truly "poured out in sacrifice" (2 Tim 4:8). A continu-ing death to self-love attends the wgflant superior s com-mitment to his holy trust. In this context welmust address ourselves to one problem in particular--a problem which occasions the deepest suffering for the conscientious su-perior. Stated in the broadest possible term~s, that prob-lem is one simply of remaining faithful t~o the super-natural order m the face of the pressures wli~ch a purely natural wewpo~nt bnngs to bear on rehgmus hfe and the apostolate. How many superiors are d~str, essed by the disintegration of spiritual values with which they are periodically confronted? How are they to res~pond to this challenge? Doubtless, the question is a vexifi~.g one. In such cases what is clear is that the super!or must re-main faithful to supernatural values. Spec~ous as the temptation to compromise may be, such compromise un-dermines. the very structure of religious life. S~metimes it may appear that only by making concessions to man's innate self-indulgence can harmony be maintained. Are not such concessions a mistake? Has not our ILord Him-self declared: "Do not think that I have come to send peace upon the earth; I have come to bring alsword, not peace., and a man's enemies will be those of his own household" (Mr 10:34-36). Obviously we are not sug-gesung that the superior pounce upon every trifling de-parture from regular &sc~phne. Shortcomings of this kind are usually nothing more than manifestations of our common frailty in persons of genuine goo~,d will. To ÷ ÷ ÷ Authority VOLUME 22, 1963 533 ÷ Robert Krt~e, .S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 534 tax the subject's good will over every peccadillo is hardly a Christlike manner of exercising authority. The situ;t-tion we envisage is far different. We have in mind the case of the religious who deliberately and systematically by his actions and attitudes exhibits practical contempt for the religious life. Cost what it may the superior mtlst courageously resist such a betrayal of religious values. To permit flagrant disregard for the supernatural order to go unchecked is intolerable. It proves demoralizing for those religious honestly striving to fulfill their vows and scan-dalizing for the faithful who almost inevitably become acquainted with such a state of affairs. Certainly in all such cases those in authority must dis-play arl exquisite kindness and sympathy, tempering the rmness of their decisions with tangible benevolence, t,ut I firm tliey must be--for the sake of the religious life it-self. Let St. Paul's exercise of authority be their model: "For though we walk in the flesh, we do not make war according to the flesh; for the weapons of our warfare are not carnal, but powerful before God to the demolishing of strongholds, the destroying of reasonings--yes, of every lofty thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every mind into captivity to the .obedience of Christ" (2 Cor 10:3-6). Surely no cross burdens the zeal-ous superior with more anguish than the recalcitrant subject. It taxes both his prudence and his courage to the utmost. Only let him recognize in tiffs cross an instrument for his personal sanctification. For the realization of God's will let him sacrifice his own popularity. To act with firmness and decision seems temperamentally almost impossible for many superiors. Nevertheless, their voca-tion demands just such firmness. In their weakness let them surrender to the Spirit of Christ their Lord, the Spirit of fortitude, who has been poured forth in their hearts. By so doing they will purify their own souls and will contribute significantly to the sanctification of their subjects. For their course of action is self-crucifying and so redeeming. Regarding positive steps to be taken in such situations, it is extremely difficult to generalize. Two suggestions come to mind which may prove of some utility. First, when dealing with such cases it would seem particularly desirable for the superior to work in close harmony with his councilors. Such collaboration contributes signifi-cantly to an objective evaluation of the problem at hand, minimizing the danger of the superior's being prompted by merely human considerations in his analysis of the situation. In addition, one or another councilor may be in a much more advantageous position to cope with the problem than the superior himself. Second, it would seem a duty incumbent upon the superior to neutralize and even to turn to the spiritual advantage of the corn .any d!sedification or scandal ar;~;n~ t_AJ_ ,mun"l.ty ject's behavior Cann~, -~-- .o,,:~ ~,ul~ an unruly sun- ,,L L.c superior exploit this oppor- ~t~rn2~aYn~n~?Cf~lrC~etaer:nnce~hn:ne~ elli:k,gelo,u as s~ ;wttiteuldle sa osf tuon- encourage prayer and sacrifice 'both for dheir delino confrere and for their own . : ¯ v,--o~vc,ance ~n noeiity. This ~uh~ULnb7 odn°noe;~of_ co,urse: ,m. a spirit of h~mility. Passinl~ tiit-~rS snoulo. I~e SCFU U ' " violatioofn - - . e rChh ri.s.t.h. kpe sIpoiruit swlhyi cahv ~ohoiduled dan aimsa ate ! the entire community. Rather, a sense of cornorate re-sponsibility and an awareness of man's Inborn weakness should be developed. In some such anner as this can the superior offset the harm done y th problem reli-b ! gtous in his community. In this article we have attempted to relate the exercise of religious authorit,, to the fun-'- our faith¯ the Incar~nation a--~ -u~a-m- e,~n t-a tt m. ysteries ot ¯ .tt ttte l~eclemDtlon A from such a vision of .~-^-: . t : 2 part dn~,.~.~u ,.~.,. ,~.~. . -,,~:,~,tLty mere e, XlStS tlae real ,at purely natural attitudes will invade our minds and shape our thinking along lihes devoid supernatural dimensio¯ns Such in~r,,o:~-- l_ . - of dured. That is why, practically "s -n~e,a~k,-isn c,~an .nt.o_t _o e, en- ,- ~,,I t,e sole tr .bmee Cashurrt.set s0 ,of wthne eCxherirsctiisaen oe¯xf eirtc ~ioo^,~-- u^-t', -a.".u.[ni o, r¯ltv can onu.e devoted some attention to ¯ xoi tHIS reason we also ¯ authori"ty and ~th e ~¯m~¯ tation of Christ. In closing, we would recommend to all who seek more knowled,,e on the su~-:- - -- ,~ d- ivine Lord¯ For l~ove of Him iosj cbcotr nm oatf t~,~kenyo wstuleadyg oeu orf Him,. and out of love shall grow likeness. And ultimate that ~s all Christian authority needs: to be ~hristlike. ly + + ÷ Authority VOLUME 22~ 196~ BROTHER PHILIP HARRIS, O.S.F. The Parent's Role in Guidance 4. Brother Philip Harris, O.S.F., is the vice president of development of St. Francis College; Brooklyn, New York. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS One area of formal guidance1 in the schools today which has been most neglected but which holds the great-est promise for the future is parent guidance. Although extensive training is now provided for a profession or an occupation, little assistance is offered to the newly-mar-ried couple facing one of the most challenging human responsibilities--the rearing and education of children. The average parents want to do a good job of raising their offspring as useful citizens. But they need the~ as-sistance of educators who are willing to share the fruit of their own special knowledge and experience. Such a partnership with parents can be a.great aid to the over-burdened and under-staffed guidance department as it seeks to help a maximum number of youth in adjusting to a confusing and complex twentieth-century world. By right, and in fact, the parent is the child's principal counselor. Jusot as parents have the primary duty to edu-cate their children, so they have the basic obligation of providing sound guidance to them. Any guidance en-deavors of the school should be based on this premise, for educators only supplement the counsel given to students by their parents. The influence of parents on a child's life decisions is formidable. It is the task of the school also to aid the parent so that the young person makes the correct decisions and attains optimum personal development. It is understandable that in this age of rapid techno-logical changes, vocational opportunity, and personal challenge parents would look to the guidance specialist to help them discover, develop, and direct all of the God-given potentialities of the child. The theme of this con-ference is "The Adjustment of Young People to a World in Accelerated Technical and Economic Evolution." Par-ents possess the opportunity to assist today's youth to be- 1 This is the text of a paper delivered to the International Con-ference on School and Vocational Guidance, Paris, July 16-22, 1962. come tomorrow's successful adults. Ho!ever, the faculty in general and the guidance worker in[particular must help parents to understand the child of tl~ television and the space age, to project themselves into the future so as to determine educational and vocational possibilities for their children in the decades ahead, to appreciate the school and the guidance department's objectives and practices, to utilize good principles of met tal hygiene and right living in their families. Such a plan for cooperative and compiementary child formation by parents and educators must be~in with the pre-school youngster and continue throul~h ~aigher stud-ies. How to accomplish this will be the Isubject of this paper. Before examining the methods for peiping parents to fulfill their natural role as guides, it is ~seful to realize the advantages of such emphasis through t ae student per. sonnel services of the school. Values o[ Parent Guidance A parental guidance program strengthms a schooI's guidance efforts in the following ways: l) Teachers are limited in the amoun~ of time and energy they can devote to helping pupils so~ve their prob-lems and meet life's challenges. Trained counselors, even on the high school level, are few in nurhber and can guide only a fraction of the student bod~. Any sound guidance practices, therefore, that parents can utilize with their offspring will lessen the educator's load and permit school counselors to do more effectiv~ worL 2) Prevention of more serious problems ~hould be the aim of .any. paren.tal gu¯idance effort. If p~rents can be alerted to signs ot emotional disturbances, .to the effects of broken homes or rejection, to their children,s needs especially psychological), to the acceptance Iof their chil- ~tgi~srd.less ,of speci.a.1 talent or limitation~, then many 3) Througinh stchheoiro cl ownitlalc bt ew riethd upcaerden otsr ,a evdouicdaetdo.rs may gain insight into the family background ofttheir pupils and are better able to understand each child! 4) Parents gain a greater appreciation of]the school's program and the teacher's efforts. As a resuh, they may give increased support to school activities, fcr they truly appreciate every endeavor made for their chil ~l's improve-ment. Some of the means for translating these calues into realities through the school's guidance effor follow: Parent Clubs Teachers are familiar with various home-sc/~ ol groups, such as the Parent Teacher Association and Fathers' or Mothers' Guild approach. Such or~anization~. o ]. however, ÷ ÷ ~Pmarde Gntusidance VOLUME 22, 1963 4" 4" 4" Phili~ HaOr.Sr.iFs,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS should have a two-way effect. The parents may raise funds for special school projects and assist in other ways; the school should provide, in turn, programs that help the members do a better job in their role as parents. Par-ents with exceptional training and skills may be willilxg to aid pupils and other parents with special knowledge and experience. For example, speakers for a career day can be recruited from a parents' guild; or parents who are doctors, nurses, or psychologists, can be called upon to address the parent group. Volunteer workers of all types from among the pupils' parents may offer free service to the school. A well-functioning parent club can be a deterrent to juvenile delinquency and offer good leisure time activ-ities for both parents and children. It not only will bring the school and home into closer cooperation but also may promote greater harmony and understanding between parent and child. Parent Forums Any aspect of child development or improvement serves as a good topic for a parent forum. It is best ithat parents be invited together who represent children of distinct grade or age levels, such as the upper, middle, or primary grades, or the pre-adolescent or adolescent pe-riod. Thus, there will be some common meeting ground for discussion. The student's intellectual, vocational, so-cial, or moral development can serve as the basis for a number of group conferences. This type of affair can be conducted in various ways. One is to have a guest or faculty speaker whose address is followed by questions from the floor. Another procedure brings in a specialist whose talk is discussed by a panel of parents with a faculty member as moderator. Parents of the graduating or senior class often profit from an educational forum to which representatives of high schools (or colleges) which the graduates will likely attend are invited for individual questioning or group discussion. These general meetings of parents are most effective when they do not take more than two hours for the total program. They may be preceded by some type of audio-visual aid while the assembly hall is slowly filling up. Sometimes films on adolescence or family mental hygiene may be projected and then followed by a discussion led by one of the faculty. Usually parent forums are held in the evening, but a week end or holiday afternoon may prove appropriate. Refreshments served after such events help teachers to meet the parents in a relaxed, social atmosphere. Parent Group Conferences These conferences are small group me~etings of parents and a teacher. If a guidance counselor or~ school l~sychol-ogist is available, these conferences may be arranged with him. These group interviews run'from ~fteen to twenty ~tin.utes and ,gi.ve the parents an. opport,~nity to present ae~r parental ~mpressions and experiences and to hear the educator's evaluation of their child. ~uch interviews have great potential for "preventive" ~ ¯ cational, vocational, or social areas. Tclo{uen tseechhn~n iinq ueed uis, most effecti.ve when these conferences a~e arranged parents a common problem, rot ex!mple, ents of students failing the sam~ two school subjects or the parents of pupils who are truant or.l.the parents of students who are withdrawn and antisocial or the parents of "exceptional" children--such natural groupings will permit the process of multiple counselin~ to take place. The teache~-counselor must prepare for ~he conferences by studying the family background anbdeI t¯horoughly fwahmosilei apra rwenitths mthaek ec uump tuhlea tgirvoeu pre. cords of the studbnts ,u. oSno motm tet~ i.sn p.terorecsetidnugr ree sbeya rPcrho hfaess sboeresn Sreapwo r~tnedd Mona ah vlearr iaa-t Chico State College in the United States. Their gr0ut~ counseling approach included botfi parents and student~. It centered a~0und underachieving pupils and involved a series of eight sessions where freedom of e~xpression was uppermost. First, students were asked to sit in a circle of six with a counselor, while the parents Isat off to the side as observers. Then, after personal introductions stu-dents were asked to express their feelings a~s to why ,they were ,u.nderach.ieving. The sessions were structured aproos.tut~.moan sK weye rteo ps,w cist cohre qdu, ewstiitohn tsh. eA pfaterre nthtsir itn3 ~th mei ncuirtcesle the and the youth as observers. Prior to such meetings~, it is helpful if both parents and students fill out an inventory of their attitudes toward each other and sc[ ool. Gradually, parent and offspring will gain insight into their own personal relationships and uriders~ anding as to why the child is not obtaining better grade.,. A plan for improvement can be developed, and a gap of time be-tween the fifth and the last two sessions will )ermit them to try out these ideas in practice. Then, th~ final guid-ance periods can be devoted to reports of success or fail-ure as well as a realistic review with implications for the future. The initial results of this technique i adicate that such family counseling can become a useful part of the school guidance program. Parents and Guidance + + ÷ Philip Harris, O .S.F. REVIEW FOR REL]G|OUS 540 Individual Parent Guidance Teachers and administrators have long met with par-ents on an individual basis to discuss their mutual con.- cern--the student. Frequently, such meetings were con-cerned with an analysis of the pupil's problems, abilitiet~, potential, and plans. However, this old technique can be made more effective by the use of some modern ap-proaches. For example, with the student's permission, his autobiography, anecdotal records, test results and ventories may be interpreted and discussed with parents. Another useful procedure is role-playing--the teacher switching to the role of the parent or the child and pos-sibly the parent switching to the role of the student. Or, the youth may be invited to attend the session to explain his feelings or position, or to "role-play" his parents. Parent Bulletins and Reports In addition to the written reports commonly given to parents by schools, bulletins which interpret standard-ized test results may be prepared to help parents gain greater insight into their child's abilities, aptitudes, and interests. A newsletter can be issued by the guidance de-partment, principal, or parent organization on: com-munity guidance and psychological resources; suggested means of helping a child with specific physical, psycho-logical, or social problems; a bibliography of free or in-expensive publications useful in the guidance of youth, of use to parents; scholarship or student aid opportuni-ties; entrance requirements of local institutions of higher education; projects for family group recreation; adoles-cent needs and conflicts; and principles of good human relations in the home. In working with modern parents, it is wise to consider the changes that have taken place in parental attitudes toward education and their goals as parents. The Chang-ing American Parent by Daniel R. Miller and Guy E. Swanson (New York: Wiley, 1959) is but one example of published reports that provide much light on the sub-ject. Many guidance books for teachers contain a chapter or two on working with parents. A recent volume, for example, Guidance in the Elementary Classroom by Gerald and Norma Kowitz (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1959) devotes the last chapter to "Counseling with Par-ents." Another recommended work is Adlerian Family Counseling edited by Dreikurs-Corsini-Lowe-Sonstegard (University of Oregon Press). The school's attempt to aid the parents to fulfill their God-given responsibilities as guides to their own children will undoubtedly prove fruitful in the good accomplished attaining the objectives of the school guidance service, in saving on teacher time and energy, and in the, good public relations thus promoted. SISTER TERESA MARY, C.S.CI Religious 0 ce and Critical Thinking It is often said that we are living in a critical t.he people of the present tim . L . a.ge,. T, hat mose of the ,~, o,~L- _, ~- ,~-,: naor,e critical t~aa consc.musne~s s. .o.f. t~h,e,, ~co, mat pteIeaxstl tmy opfa rtth, efr uon~i tvheerisre g. eMateenr recognize that they must constantly adapt [their thinking to manifold new discoveries being made.~ While it is not necessary to doubt the existence of absolutes as some of I our contemporaries do, the need. to recq~ze relative aspects of man's being and knowledge o~ the world is much more apparent today than ever b~fore A new manifestation of the evolutionary ~rocess in th ha,s . ~coe ab?y~ largely because ot t~he ~e~t ro e world ~twy esncthioetlhar cs einnt uthreiesse Mpeoriroedosv eisr, bethe ~ i"nng o cw o¯~m ~em,~ u g -ne i c a a a.te c~ea~ath m content and method to large masses of or " ~eople. The spread of scientifi- -~ . ,-- , dreary the development of the crit~ic ~a-lu supginrti tn eacmespsnargil ym menea. nIss this critical spirit a good or an evil for them? than e a s g ~re Although the wordc .n.t~.osm,, often e a to break down some existing structurec ownintohtoeus ta desire apprec~atmn of facts~ ~t need not have th:~ 1 . ~rop~r meamng As a genuine intellectual effort, ~,t~s ure-sfuolrttsu nmaatye more often be presupposed as good and ~onstructive. Criticism is usually offered out o~ a sincere ~ntent'on to better the existing structure, not to destroy i~, and~is the m~ural product o~ a creative mind. Without seein~ the ~ ly as the values which he holds have been critically examined, Sister Teresa ra~"mnally acceet~d,.an~ then u~e Mary, 5 as general guides to behavior is in-ra~ her than as ng~d mvmlable principles can the perso~ be character- structor in theolo~ ~zed ~ liberally educated." Paul L. Dressel, "'The Role of Critical at St. Mary's Col-Thinking in Acquiring Enduring Attitudes and lege; Notre Dame, w~th Revolutionary Chan~es ~ . Know'ledge to Deal Indiana. National Con er~ . ~. ?~.u, a paper presente~ to a. 19 .~ f . u n~gner Education in Ch'cz£. ~ ~' v0~v~ ~, ÷ + ÷ Sister Teresa Mary, C.S.C. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS deficiencies in the current state of our existence, individ-ually and within a group, we cannot even maintain our present good, much less acquire all the good that is po:~- sible for us.2 The tendency of the modern age to be critical can, if rightly exercised, open up wider oppo:r-tunities for full human existence. Having recognized the value of the critical process in human activity, we come to the problem of this article, to consider the relationship of criticism to the virtue o[ obedience in the religious life. While attachment to per-sonal judgment has always been the crucial issue in the question of obedience, this matter takes on added dimen-sions in an age which emphasizes the value of a good, free, critical personal judgment. When a subject has been educated to think for himself, there is bound to be a se-vere adjustment for his personality if he is obliged to give this up in the interest of religious obedience. Part of our problem will be to determine whether the subject of obe-dience is obliged to give up personal judgment in any way and, if not, how he is to coordinate a conflicting judgment with the will of the superior. The following examples from current articles should suffice to show that there are a variety of answers to the problem of obedience. These answers have seldom been compared so that some sharp differences among them could be properly noted. It will be well to look at them first before trying to answer whether religious obedience and critical thinking are compatible. All authors, of course, agree on two points: the supe-rior's will is to be obeyed in all commands which are not sinful, and this obedience must be more than a mere external execution of the command; as a genuine human act it must flow from self-determination to the goodness of the act of obedience. The religious subject recognizes in the light of faith that the superior has been invested with authority in a congregation estab

Issue 19.4 of the Review for Religious, 1960. ; Review fOl" Religious The LordIs My Shepherd The Brothers',Vootion: Natural Ideal by Robert D. Cihlar, S.J. Problen~s of the Late Vocation , byDavid "B. IVadhams~ S.M.~ Is Religious DisObedience Al~ays, a Sin? by Joseph J. Farraher, S.J. The Problem of Transition for the Junior sister, by Sister Mary Magdalen, O.P. , Survey of Roman Documents Views, News, PreViews Questions and ,Answers Book Reviews 193 200 207 215 225 232 237 ,240 " 248 The Lord Is My Shepherd The Lord is my shepherd: I want for nothing; he makes me to lie in green pastures, He leads me to waters where I may rest; he restores my soul. He guides me along the right paths for his name's sake. Although I walk in a darksome valley, I shall fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy crook and thy staff: these comf.o~:t me. Thou preparest a table for me before the eyes of my foes; Thou. anointest my head with oil; my cup brims over. Goodness and kindness will follow me all the days of my life, And I shall dwell in the house of the Lord days without end. BY A SPECIAL INSPIRATION the Psalmist foresaw that the Redeemer would come in the flesh and that He would found a Church and that He would be a Shepherd over it. However, this is not the only instance in the Sacred Scriptures where God alludes in very distinct language to the "Shepherd" mentioned by the words of the Psalmist in this beautiful psalm; but the "Shepherd" whom God has set over His only true Church is also very clearly indicated in the words of Ezekiel where it is stated: "And I will set up one shepherd over them; and he shall feed them, and he shall be their shepherd" (Ez 34:23). Now what is significant in these words is that the same term is here used for "shepherd" and "to feed," so that the sense is that this Shepherd which God has set over His Church is both our Guide and our Food as well. The Lord is not only our Shepherd; but He is also the means by which we are kept in existence, both body and soul. The Lord is our Shepherd who feeds us with Himself; for by means of the Church which He established He continues to say, "Take and eat! This is My Body" (Mt 26:27). By means of His Church He is able to carry out the words of this psalm and fulfill their implication by feed-ing us with Himself; for that is what the words "the Lord is my Shepherd" mean or imply in the original Hebrew, since in The author of this article is an American layman who is living a contemplative life and who wish~s to rhmain anonymous. 193 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Review for Religious that language no distinction is made between tending, govern-ing, and guiding a flock and feeding it. What a wonderful thing it is to have such a Shepherd who is able to feed His sheep, namely, all the faithful, with His own Precious Body and Blood ! But God is not only our Shepherd ; He is also our companion and our friend, since this word shepherd is often used to des-ignate the idea of companionship and friendship. "How beautiful art thou, my love, how beautiful art thou" (Cant 4:1). It is significant that in addressing the souls of all who love Him, God should here make use of a word which is a derivative of the term used by the Psalmist when he refers to Him as his "Shepherd." And so by an extended use of the term shepherd we may refer to our Lord as someone whom we love and in whom we find our whole delight. The Lord is our Shepherd in the sense that it is in Him alone that we can find our whole delight. He alone is the sole object of our love: The Lord is my Shepherd because the guidance He exerts over me is the guid-ance of love and delight. He is Love in nature and essence. The Lord is my Shepherd in the sense that I am being ruled and governed by means of that everlasting love and delight which He is. The Shepherd here spoken of by'the Psalmist is none other than the King of love, and so the dominion He exercises over us is the dominion of love and love alone." God guides and governs us by mean of His love. "The Lo~:d is my Shepherd. I want for nothing." What can be lacking to him who is governed and guided by Love Itself? The Lord is my Shepherd in the sense that I have God Himself for my close com-panion and friend. From the day of my birth 'til the day of my death, this guide in the form of Love Incarnate will be my close companion and friend, so that no circumstance can arise in which His help and friendship will not be there to see me through everything I shall ever have to undergo. Having such a Shepherd we can all say, "I want nothing," that is to say, no circumstance will ever arise in our lives in which we shall suffer any sort of insufficiency; for we will always have what we need from this Divine Lover of our soul, this God who both created and re-deemed us. "I know mine," He tells us in the Gospel of St. John (10:15). He knows us better than we know ourselves, and no real want we can ever have will be overlooked by Him who has loved us from all eternity. There are times when we may think we need what this "Good Shepherd" sees we do not need, and which would not be 194 July, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD of any value for our eternal salvation. One thing we can be sure of, and that is with such a lover as God is, anything we really need to advance in our effort to get to know and love Him better we will most certainly have; and so we shall never be 'devoid of the good necessary for our progress along our journey to our heavenly home. The whole Bible has often been compared to a medicine chest ¯ in which may be found remedies suitable to every need the soul can have on its journey through time. And so, just as we think it nothing at all to rush over to the drug store to get something to soothe our bodily aches, so in like manner we should never be slow to turn to the pages of Holy Writ whenever we feel we need some words of help and consolation in the troubles and trials of this life. Our Lord is often referred to as a physician in the Scriptures. By this it is meant that we should use the words He speaks to us in them as a sort of medicine to apply to the ills of our souls. "Honor the Physician," we read in the Book of Ecclesiasticus (38:1). "Honor the Physician for the need thou hast of Him. For all healing is from God . The most high hath created medicines . . . and the wise man will not abhor them." Though these words refer to the medicines the doctor prescribes for the ills of our bodies, we know that in addition to the literal meaning of these words, there is also a spiritual and a mystical one. They also refer to that Heavenly Physician which our Lord is and the many remedies He has devised for the many ills of our souls. "The most high hath created medicines" in the form of the Church with her entire sacramental system; and so, "a wise man will not abhor them." At present, though, we intend to limit our consideration to the medicines to be found in the Sacred Scriptures and especially as these may be had in the words of the twenty-second psalm, and in many others as well; for in one of them we actually see the Psalmist call upon God as we do on an earthly doctor and say to Him, "Heal me, O Lord, and I shall be healed." These two words heal and healed are so rich in Hebrew that we can hardly realize the comfort they bring when read in the original, since besides the connotation of healing they are also a metaphor for comfort and consolation. When in the words of the Psalmist we ask God to "heal" us, we include the petition that we should be restored to that pristine felicity we all posses-sed before we fell into sin. We ask God that we should one day win back that same unmarred happiness Adam once possessed in Paradise and which the words of the twenty-second psalm 195 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Review for Religious reawaken in our soul as often as the beauty of them comes to our mind: "The Lord is .my Shepherd; I shall not.want." The complete fulfillment of all that these words imply will take place after we have been completely healed of the effects of original sin and restored to the state of innocence Adam had before the Fall. "We shall not Want," because after this life is over all our desires shall be fulfilled and there will be nothing we have to have which God will not give us in the complete and perfect giving of Himself to us in the life to come. "We shall not want" because after we die God shall be all in all to us so that, having Him with all the fullness and completion in which we will then have Him, we shall .lack nothing to be eternally happy. God will then "spread a table" before us on which He will Himself be the food of our glorified state. For if even during this life "the Lord is our Shepherd," in the sense that it is in the possession of Him alone that we can find our true delight, what will it not be to have that same delight in Him when we shall become completely assimilated to all that He is in the life to come? If even on this earth we derive our whole satisfaction in the thought that we have God who is Love Itself for our companion and friend, what shall it not be for us to enjoy that companionship and friendship of His when we are where alone we can truly and fully partici-pate in it? And if even while we are on this earth we find i~ such a delight to be ruled and governed by Him who is Love Itself, what will it be when we shall have that guidance and governance in Heaven itself? "The Lord is my Shepherd." What a privilege it is to have God Himself to guide and conduct us through every vicissitude and event of this life ; for with such a guide, "even though I walk in the dark valley I fear no evil, for He guides me in the right paths." The Psalmist says that as long as he shall live he has nothing to fear, because it is the God of righteousness who con-ducts along the paths of His own righteousness, and that He does so for His name's sake, namely, for the sake of Jesus, since we could never have that original righteousness we once pos-sessed in Adam unless Christ offered Himself for us as a victim for our sins. And so it is for the sake of the sufferings of Christ that we are now able to tread those paths of righteousness that will lead us to the realms of unending bliss in Heaven. "And a path and a way shall be there," Isaiah tells us (35:8) "and it shall be called the holy way." Our Lord said He was that "holy way" when He said, "I am the Way." He is the right path of 196 J~tly, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD which this Psalmist speaks and along which he is being guided by God. No wonder he can say that, "even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil, for you are at my side." For what shall we be afraid of when.we realize that He who both made and re-deemed us is constantly on the lookout for our every need, and He will permit nothing to happen to us which will not conduce to the greater good of our soul both in time and in eternity? "In .verdant pastures He gives me repose; beside restful waters He leads me." In these words the Psalmist wishes to point out God's tender compassion for the human race and the many comforts and consolations with which we are provided from the very first days of our existence until our last breath. "Show me," the soul says to her Belgved, "Show-me, O Thou whom my soul loveth, where Thou feedest, wh~re Thou liest in the midday" (Cant 1:6). Thh "repose" here spoken of is that of reclining on the bosom of Christ, mentioned in the Gospel of St. John (13:25), for the soul's rest in Christ is here compared to the pleasant and refreshing experience we have when we lie down on the tender grass on a hot summer day. Another signifi-cation for "repose" is the idea of being interchanged. "Repose" refers to that immingling of the soul with that of her beloved Lord by means of some extraordinary grace which makes of the two one; so that the "verdant pastures" are those exquisite de-lights the soul finds as she feels herself being drawn into the inmost essence of Him whom she loves--namely, the beauty and comeliness of Christ. The soul speaks of the pleasure she has in Christ as a sort of lying down on the young, fresh, and tender grass, in order to indicate the pleasing sensation which the rest she finds in Him procures for her. "Beside restful waters He leads me." These restful waters are the vast number of bless-ings we receive from God and which afford us so much consola-tion in the sorrows we have to bear. "He refreshes my soul." God "refreshes" the soul when by means of His grace it is re-stored to that pristine beauty it had before it fell into si.n, for the word "refresh" means to convert, to bring back, to restore, and to renew. Whenever we are being renewed in Christ, we are being, refreshed in soul and reconverted to God. The fullness of conversion will take place by means of that renewal, that res-toration, that complete conversion and refreshing of the heaven and earth spoken of in the Apocalypse of St. John (21:1), where-in he tells us that he saw a "new heaven and a new earth, for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away." Through 197 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD Re4)iew for Religious sin, Isaiah tells us (24:5), "the earth is infected by the in- .habi.tants thereof." And so the time will come when it will pass away and be recreated in Christ, so that at that time our souls will. be completely refreshed because of their being completely converted to God. At present our conversion is only partial; and so the refreshment of which this psalm speaks to us is not as perfect as we would desire it to be, since we still need many things which after we die we will no longer have to have in order to be perfectly and completely happy. It is only after this life is over that our soul will be completely refreshed with that refreshment and renewal in Christ of which this psalm speaks. "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." What is this "dark valley"? Literally, it is the valley of the shadow of death, which in Hebrew is used poetically for very thick darkness. When we read the Book of Job, we find this word shadow-of-death being used on five different occasions to denote what no other expressions convey. In order to express the contempt he had for the present life, Job says: "Let the day perish wherein I was born. Let the darkness and the shadow of death cover it" (3:3-4). On another occasion he character-izes our entire existence in this world as "a land of misery and darkness where the shadow of death dwelleth" (10:22). In the third verse of the twenty-eighth chapter, he again makes use of the same word in order to indicate that our whole life is lived in death's shadow and that we will never cease to be freed from its image until we are out of this world. And the Psalmist speaks of walking in the valley of the shadow of death, because as long as we live we are never free from the fear of our having to undergo the penalties we have to pay for the sin of our first parents. We walk in the valley of the shadow of death, because as long as we live we can never be free from the necessity of dying; and the thought of our death haunts us from the cradle to the grave. We are said to be walking in the valley of the shadow of death because we always live with its image before our eyes, since there is nothing we can see that will not some day have an end. As long as we live we walk, as it were, in the shadow of death, in that the calamities and miseries of life which will last as long as we will, are a sort of image of death, since they prepare us for its approach when the time will come for us to leave this vale of tears. And yet the Psalmist says- and we should all say with him: "Even though I walk in the dark valley -- the valley of the shadow of death -- I fear no evil ; for 198 July, 1960 THE LORD IS MY SHEPHERD You are at my side." The Psalmist tells us that we have nothing to fear from death, because Christ has removed its sting. "He suffered death," St. Paul tells, us, "that He might by God's gracious bounty experience the throes of death for the sake of every human being . . . that through death He might destroy him who had control over death; that is, the devil, and deliver those whom throughout their lives the fear of death held in bondage" (Heb 2:9-15). "I will deliver them out of the hand of death," our Lord tells us through the words of Osee. "0 death, I will be thy death; 0 hell, I will be thy bite." The Psalmist knew this; and that is why he says, "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." He knew that Christ would one day die and that by means of His own sacred death we would be freed from the bondage of death, so that even though we die, yet we shall live forever that life He merited for us by all He underwent for our sake. "I fear no evil," we say to God, "for you are at my side." We are not afraid of anything that can happen to us in this life, in-cluding death itself, because we are assured by the words of this psalm that in everything we have to go through, God will assist us by His divine aid, and we will always find ourselves upheld by Him in a manner too marvelous to comprehend. "When thou shalt pass through the waters," that is, the trials and afflic-tions of this life, including the agony of dying, "I will be with thee," our Lord says to us in words we can no more question than we can question our own existence. "When thou _.shalt walk in the fire, thou shalt not be burnt: and the flames shall not burn thee" (Is 43:2). With this divine aid of God Himself before his miffd's eye, no wonder the Psalmist was able to say: "Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil." For what is there anyone can fear when he is given the strength to trust God in those most agonizing moments of his life when his soul will be wrenched from the flesh of which it formed such a close com-panionship all the time it was in the body? What can unduly alarm him who is not unduly frightened by what so many dread ? Christ has destroyed death's terrors, and so it is now nothing more than a sleep from which we will one day awake as gently as we rise up every morning from our previous night's rest. And so, if we are afraid to die, we should also be afraid to go to sleep every night as well. If we fear God with the filial and re-verential fear He wants to be feared with, we will not have to fear anything else--death included. 199 The Brothers' Vocation as a Natural Ideal Robert D. Cihlar, S.J. yOUTH is idealistic. Whatever appeals to it as the greater good, that it will seek. It will seek it with a determination seldom found in later life. The child's changing ideas of what it wants to be when it "grows up" is a simple confirmation of this fact. At one time it aspires to be a fireman, at another a doctor, and so on. The desire changes with the appreciation of the good to be attained- one's own personal good. The child is led, without knowing the meaning of the word, by an ideal. The ideal not o.nly fires the imagination but it must also be somethin$ within reach of the abilities a man knows are his. A child does not fully realize its limitations. As a consequence it aspires to things far above its present capabilities. For the adult and the young man,. however, the ideal must be something which is possible--and possible through one's own efforts, tal-ents, and opportunities. An ideal must be capable of satisfying a man's sense of personal worth. It must also be achievable by this man. He must be able to see himself as realizing this ideal. People he knows, others he has read about have reached this goal; why not he? Often, not fully appreciating his own limitations, he will, like the child, aspire to things which are not for him. As realization comes, so the ideal changes or deepens. For the time being, how-ever, the mere possession of an ideal is enough to cause him to strive for it. It is not difficult to see how the makings of an ideal ar~ to be found in the married state. It takes a little more discernment to find them in the other vocations; and perhaps this is the reason, naturally speaking, why most people find their vocation in marriage. To be looked up to, even in the small circle of the family, to be the head of that family, to be needed, to be loved and to love, all these satisfy a man's sense of personal worth. The fact that others have failed in this state does not deter him Brother Robert D. Cihlar is stationed at West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana. 200 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION nor make it less available. Rather he is all the more convinced, because he possesses an ideal, that his case will be different. Now let us take up a comparison in religious life also based upon the supposition of the ideal as given above. The priesthood at one time or another seems to appeal to most Catholic boys. They are attracted by the reverence shown the priesthood, and this in turn gives them an appreciation of its dignity. They see themselves invested with this dignity, receiving the reverence now accorded to another. They see themselves at the altar, in the confessional, at the bedside of the sick and dyfng. Their sense of personal worth is satisfied, and they know that the goal is achievable because others have made it. Their efforts could bring them there. We have present then in the priesthood two of the elements which go to make up an ideal. This in turn:,Ldepending on the intensity of the desire, becomes a motivating force to (1) prayer, leading to a more obvious cooperation with grace; (2) reading, leading to a greater knowledge of the true meaning of the priest-hood; and (3) a greater application to study, since scholastic ability is necessary. One thing .leads gradually to another. A vocation does not appear all at once but comes, like the dawn; gradually. No one of these is sufficient in itself. Most x~ocations, however, can be traced back to the development of the ideal. Vocations to the pries.thood are more plentiful beca.use they follow the pattern and contain the essentials of an ideal. It .is not so, however, in the case of the lay brother. Public opinion, and consequently the general opinion of youth, is against such a vocation. It is looked down upon simply (and mainly) because it lacks those two motivationally essential parts of an ideal. A young man cannot imagine himself in the position of one who is looked down upon, who possesses in the eyes of the ldity, and often the clergy, no natural worth or dignity. Why is this? Why must there be a lack of this natural value in this way of life? Why must the motivation for accepting such a vocation be only and solely supernatural?. Obviously this is delicate ~round on which it behooves one to tread ever so lightly, if it is to be trod at all. But it is not my intention in any way to minimize the supernatural motive. A vocation without such is no vocation at all. Nor do I wish to say that it is of lesser importance, for even that which I choose to call natural motivation is in reality an action of grace building on nature. It is sometimes true that the natural motivation is 201 ROBERT D. CIHLAR Review for Religious the more obvious of the two, but in the course of, let us say, the preparation for the priesthood, grace builds on that natural motive to such an extent that the supernatural motive becomes the first consideration. My contention, therefore, is that both natural and supernatural motivation, though not of equal im-portance, are of equal necessity, simply because we are human beings. With this explanation, let us try for a subjective viewpoint of what a young man sees when he looks at the life of the lay brother. Perhaps from such a viewpoint we shall catch some hint of the defects in the presentation of this vocation and the possible errors in our thinking concerning it. Undoubtedly the greatest deterent to a young man is the prevalent attitude among the laity, and some clergy, that the brothers' life is a demeaning of self. They feel that the brother is an admitted failure--or becomes such whe~ he becomes a brother. It is rather hard to dislodge the idea that the lay brother is one who "could not" become a priest because of inferior mental ability or some other defect. Popular Catholic literature and various hagiographers of the past have contributed to this idea. The humility of some saints has been demonstrated by their wishing to be with the brothers or work with them (mean-ing to demean themselves). Among present-day Catholic books the Mass of Brother Michael, though a romantic and enter-taining story, is an example of extremely poor propaganda material. Yet it is from such weakly representative literature that attitudes are formed, and once having formed become tra-ditional. In short, the persistent idea is that a man who becomes a lay brother is exceptional, in either his holiness or his ignor- . ance. It is not a vocation "possible" to the average man because it offends his sense of personal worth. It is within reach of his abilities, but it is also often beneath them. It therefore does not fulfill the conditions of the ideal, in the natural order, as ex-pressed above. This idea poses a very thorny problem, but a problem which must be solved if the numbers of the brothers are to increase. A change is evidently necessary in our thinking--and actions-for the mass of tradition is against the brother. The Church, from earliest times, has made use of the principle of adaptation; and adaptation to the times and their needs is the thing to be considered. 202 July, 1960 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION Tradition dating from the Middle Ages has assigned the brothers' vocation to the uneducated and lower classes who, wishing to serve God more perfectly, seek this perfdction in the religious life. Now, going farther back to the natal days of monasticism, we find that this was not true then. The early "Fathers" were not Fathers at all, but in their manner of living the equivalent of the latter-day brother. They engaged in manual labor, meditation, penance, and so forth, but were seldom if ever ordained priests. Necessity, among which was an ever-widening ministry in the monastic groups, brought about the inclusion of priests in their ranks. As the accent on the ministry grew, 'grad-ually the bulk of membership became priestly. Men of education, since educated men were the exceptioh, were directed to the priesthood. Those without education could not hope to become priests ; but, still wishing to become rel!~ious, they were directed to the life of the lay brother. This insistence upon educated men for the priesthood was brought about as part of the much needed reform of the clergy at the time of the Reformation. It also, as a side result, brought about a complete reversal of the original scheme of monasticism; or at least it was the culmination of a reversal that had been taking place for some centuries. However, considering modern' ~i~nes we find the educational picture itself reversed (at least in most ~vestern countries) and the illiterate man becomes the exception. In the Unite'd States, for example, the major portion of the population has completed at least a high school education; and the years since the Second World War find more and more high school graduates going on to college. Superimpose this picture upon that of the time of the Reformation, and a natural explanation will appear for the decrease in brothers' vocations. However, it is only a natural explanation. This does not necessarily mean that God is calling fewer young men to His service as brothers. It does mean that these men, better educated and better qualified, no longer con-sider this vocation as an ideal or even an alternative, which it much more readily was considered a few centuries ago. The brothers' vocation offers them too little in the way of a sense of personal worth. Tell me that the reason for this is a lack of supernatural insight and I will readily admit that this is true. In the order of grace the brothers' vocation has both great dignity and value. But the young man of today, unfortunately, has a much more sophisticated attitude toward life and greater cultural advan- 203 ROBERT D. CIHLAR Review for Religious rages without the balance of living in an age of faith which would have fostered this insight. This is a fact, and we have to adapt ourselves and our methods to it. It need not be without its own peculiar blessing. We are, after all, instruments which God uses. We commit a heresy of sorts if we expect His grace alone to do the job of foster-ing vocations. We must be prepared to offer candidates opportuni-ties in their work for God which are suited to their greater educa-tion and better-develo.ped abilities. Certainly in the congregations of teaching brothers provision is made for this in the various ad-ministrative and educational aspects of school life. The boys see this and respect it. The primary concern here, however, is with those mixed orders or congregations composed of priests and lay brothers. Here the brothers' duties as a rule are menial as well as manual. If, for example, a brother is qualified by his talents and/or education to work in posts of considerable trust, dignitY, and even title, why should they not be given to them. Such posts as treasurer, registrar, superintendent of buildings and gro.unds, promotion, public relations, library, and so forth, occur as possibilities. I am sure there are many others. Given these posts, they should also be delegated enough authority to act freely in them. I might even say that should a brother be discovered to have talents in these lines .and.not be qualified by education, such education should be provided. All things being equal, there is really nothing that a priest does which cannot be done by a brother except in ,-the direct area of the ministry. I certainly do not wish to advocate the idea that the brotherhood is equal to the priesthood; but I do hold that in his capabilities he is often equal to and sometimes better than the priest. When this is so, prescinding from personalities and persons, should he not be allowed to fully employ these capabilities for God and for the benefit of those who would see him and get to know him? If we want to get brothers who are well-qualified in their lines, do we not also have the duty to God to make the best use of the men He sends us, even to the extent of. demonstrating their qualities to others as a means of influencing them? The introduction of the idea of example as influence pre-sents another aspect in the matter of vocations. Seeing is believing. With brothers openly shown in positions of responsi-bility, an acknowledgment of their abilities is forced upon the beholder. Association will gradually accord a greater respect, provided of course the man conducts himself as one worthy of 204 July, 1960 THE BROTHERS' VOCATION respect. Respect accorded in and out of the order or congrega-tion ought gradually to influence or raise the calling, from the natural viewp5int, to conform with the principles of the ideal. In effect, what I would maintain is that there is a need for a greater "going in their door to bring them out ours." But first, of course, there must also be a change in attitude from within the order or congregation itself, or more precisely, among the members of the order or congregation. It is axiomatic that young men have a sixth sense in de-tecting the defects of their teachers or superiors. It is at times disconcerting to have them expose our weakest points. Though we might all profess a great reverence and esteem for the brothers, too few of us really feel it. Too often, in a rare and honest moment, we find the prevailing attitude toward the brothers in ourselves. We have only a notional knowledge as opposed to a real conviction. This is readily detected and carried over to the students and is reproduced in them. A patronizing, condescending attitude, even one of pity, obliterates the rosy picture we would like to paint; and the student sees right through it. He sees, often more clearly than we, the idea of inequality, of superior and inferior, master and servant. And we should not be surprised that he does not find this attractive. Why is this? Is it possibly because the social attitude has evolved in contradistinction to our own at home? That is, do we in practice have a social attitude toward the brothers which does not correspond to what we hold for society in general? Is this contradiction at home possibly one o~ the reasons that we, who are exteriorly champions of this new social attitude, are not so readily accepted as its champions? Undoubtedly there must be a hierarchy of superiors and subjects for the preserva-tion of good order. This is a pure sociological fact. However, it is not necessary that there be superior and inferior on the social level in religious orders or congregations, which finds its equivalent in the caste system. We maintain the "fiction" of all being equally members of the order or congregation; but this is true only as regards spiritual matters. Actually it works out to the maxim that some are more equal than others as far as temporalities are concerned. If, for instance, the priests are allowed something, the equivalent to the brothers must be less good, and so on right down the line. This spells out to the laity what they assume is our real attitude. 205 ROBERT D. CIHLAR The purpose of pointing up these defects is most certainly not an attempt to antagonize. It is merely to point out things in our actions which negate our words, thereby withdrawing from this vocation some of the sense of personal worth. A prospect of such things, contained in the acceptance of a broth-er's vocation, cannot help but prove repugnant to the young men we would like to gain, for they both sense and see them. Con-sidering the society and cultural background in which they live, it is the only natural conclusion they can come to. We stand convicted by the principles we advocate and the profession we make. We ourselves are not without guilt in this lack of an "ideal" in the life of the brother. We seem to expect almost over-whelming actions of grace in the face of obstacles we have helped to erect, and it is unjust to do so. In becoming a brother, a young man today must surrender much more than did his predecessor of a few centuries ago. We have no ~-ight to expect miracles of grace. Very few Pauls have been thrown from their horses. There are no immediate conclusions this writer can come to or any pat solutions he can offer as regards these problems. Such, as a matter of fact, is not his aim. His aim is rather to raise a doubt in the minds of those who read this, to provoke discussion, to call attention to the possibility of error in our present thinking. As I have mentioned before, there is no intention of min-imizing the necessity of supernatural motivation, of the need of prayer and grace in the fostering of vocations. But I am deeply convinced that we have been seriously mistaken in not providing a so-called natural motivation to accompany it. When, together with the action of grace, we have provided the mak-ings of an ideal, then men will not be lacking who will wish to follow it. Problems of the Late Vocation David B. Wadhams, IF A MAN around thirty decides to begin studying for the priesthood, he is beginning a bold undertaking which entails the hazards, though not the romance, of real adventure. The difficulties he will face will not be those encountered by the man of action, but problems he will have in abundance. These problems are perhaps no more serious than those of his younger confreres in the seminary; but they have a complexity and an urgency which make them special, requiring special considera-tion. These problems must be faced if the man is to persevere; they must be solved if he is to be a happy and efficient priest. Religious congregations now seem more willing then ever before to accept older candidates who are qualified, and the religious life increases the problems the older man must face. How does an older man adjust to community life, the rule, the vows? How does he meet the demands of fraternal charity, surrounded as he is by men younger by ten or fifteen years and presumably more resilient psychically? Will his years in the seminary be a loss if he does not persevere? Is he not just burying himself there, during that crucial period when other men are carving out careers? What if he should fail? The problems are not limited to the older man himself; religious superiors must also face special problems in the case of older religious seminarians. Should they be given any sort of ~pecial consideration or exemption from ordinary seminary and religious discipline? Should they be given greater responsibili-ties because of the experience they bring with them to the seminary? Like superiors, spiritual directors also find that the presence of older seminarians is not without its perplexities. Should they be given more or less direction than the younger men? How should the direction of the older seminarian differ from that of the younger seminarian? Why does it seem so dif-ficult at times to make contact with the older seminarians? Mr. David B. Wadhams is presently studying theology at Marist College, 3875 Harewood Road, N. E., Washington 17, D. C. 207 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review ]or Religious The range and number of such difficulties could be extended indefinitely, but it will be sufficient here to limit consideration of the matter to five points where special difficulties would seem to be present for the older seminarian: (1) the older seminar-ian's special need for patience and humility; (2) his impatience with "unbusinesslike" administrative procedure; (3) his im-patience with superiors and directors; (4) his chafing at being classed with younger men; and (5) his nostalgia, more or less prolonged, for the lay state. The Need for Patience and Humility It seems very likely that special dispositions of Divine Providence are to be seen when a man of around the age of thirty becomes a seminarian. However deep the consolation may be for the older man in this thought (and it is a considera-tion that he must keep uppermost in his mind), yet it must also be realized that this very ordering of things by Divine Providence also entails a special exercise of patience and of humility--the patience and the humility of the old man on the bench with younger students. If this lesson of patience in the practice of humility is not learned, he will not be able to persevere. Of course, all seminarians must learn these virtues; and all of them haveindeed ample opportunity to practice them. But a younger man who knows that his priestly life will begin at, say, twenty-seven has the impatience of youthful impetuosity to tame. On the other hand, the older seminarian has the gnaw-ing discomfort of knowing that he must begin a life at forty. Nor is it much consolation to him when a bright-eyed funda-mentalist slaps him on the shoulder and says, "That's all right, Dad, life begins at forty!" This truism soon fails to elicit any but the feeblest enthusiasm in the older man. This general situation forms a sort of background against which the entire life of the older seminarian must be enacted; life, he knows, is short, and his own, despite his age, has not yet really begun. However manfully he may struggle to be patient and to overcome the sense of frustration and unrest that flows from such a situation, his general background of impatience cannot help but be increased by more specific difficulties which he encounters. 208 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION Impatience with the "Unbusinesslike" For the sake of concreteness, assume that a man comes to a religiousinstitute after ten years as a minor executive in the sales department of some large corporation. After an initial period in the religious life of great good will and satisfaction, he may begin to find himself becoming impatient with what he considers to be the "unbusinesslike" and "unrealistic" opera-tional methods of the seminary. He is told that he should bring suggestions and complaints to his superiors during regular interviews known as adminis-trative counseling. But he finds that his suggestions for improve-ment are met with aloofness and subsequently may be ignored. He may find the cordiality of his superiors somewhat strained and entirely different from the warm spontaneity of office good humor: The happy camaraderie of the old days in business seems to radiate friendliness and mutual good-will in contrast to the remote politeness of this administrative consulation. He finds, in short, that businesslike office methods may not always be found in religious congregationg; and that established cus-toms, even undesirable ones, have a tendency to cling. He may .be shocked that buildings and equipment have been allowed to ~leteriorate because of improper delegation of responsibility in maintaining them, or because of what~ he considers a misdirected cult of poverty. After years spent in surroundings presentable, if not luxurious, he may find cracked and peeling paint in sleeping rooms and officeg, together with ancient furniture, serviceable perhaps, but piteously unappealing to the eye. Administrative-duties may be relegated to a single over-worked lay brother who has to manage a coinplicated acc0unting system with machines years beyond their prime. "Duplicating equipment may be gently awry, p~'oducing legible but~scr.atchy copy. Cash accountihg may be quite nonchalarit. Public relations techniques may be hopelessly mismanaged or totally nonexistent. The man may tend to exaggerate these deficiencies as time goes on, and his itch to rearrange things increases. Why-don't they call someone in for an audit? Why must certain precious ma-chines be available for the indiscriminate and uncontrolled use of fifty people? Why does fresh paint seem incompatible with poverty- surely the walls were freshly painted once? If on the other hand he find~ himself in a congregation whose progressive foresight has placed men of vision in positions '209 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review for Religious of authority, the subject will surely find some evidences of inefficiency. The ease with which a man finds matter for criti-cism is a match for the most progressive system. Perhaps the very businesslike character of the place will strike him as out of place. A man's past will stand him in good stead when he becomes a religious; but the stresses and strains which this life imposes will affect him in those areas where he is mos~ vul-nerable- the sphere of his accumulated treasury of general know-how. Superiors and Spiritual Directors Then, too, the vow of obedience has a peculiar democratizing effect. Along with his deep respect for the office of superior, the subject realizes that both are bound by the same ties. The superior, no less than he, is directly subject to the authority of those above him; and this authority is just as stringent in its demands of obedience. Back in the office, the former senior accountant or advertising man saw his superior in a greatly privileged position within the circle of major executives. He was conscious of a degree of separation measured in terms of seniority and yearly income. Now he finds himself in the religious life where his superior, though he exerts the same authority as his former employer, may be a near contemporary, sleeping just down the hall, and using the same bath. The older seminarian realizes, to be sure, that the motive of his religious obedience is a supernatural one; but, being flesh and blood, in certain cases he cannot help but experience a sense of somewhat dis-mayed surprise at a superior-subject relationship that on the natural level may be so different from his previous relations with authority in the business and commercial world. Another problem for the older seminarian may be spiritual direction. He may find that he has difficulty "opening up." This will be especially so if his director is a younger man, or if he considers his director can have no comprehension of his char-acter. Suppose, for example, that the director is a younger man, that he entered religion on the completion of high school, and that he has had relatively little experience except in the direc-tion of seminarians. In such a case the older seminarian may find it difficult to talk about anything more dangerous than the weather, since he is aware of the considerable difference in background between himself and his director. This and similar cases may cause real difficulties in communication; the difficul-ties will be overcome only if the older seminarian recalls that 210 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION the same Providence which placed him in the seminary has also given him his superiors and directors. Armed with this con-sideration he must then put complete trust in his director, even if he finds it costs him dearly in wounded pride. As has been stated above, he has a special lesson in humility to learn. As a matter of fact, of course, younger directors can be quite satisfactory. Being aware of their relative inexperience, they tend to exercise great prudence in applying theological principles to concrete cases. Moreover, since many problems are solved by the mere telling, the seminarian should be quite con-tent if be can find a man to whom he can talk freely. Relations with the Younger Seminarians Probably the greatest trial which the older seminarian must undergo is being in a class of much younger men. Many institutes have a minor seminary to which they will send the older candidate for a year or so to give him some Latin and to observe him before sending him to the novitiate. The age dif-ference at this level is so great that he will usually be allowed certain privileges to make this period of adjustment easier. At the novitiate, however, he is considered for all practical pur-poses the contemporary of his fellow novices. Here the strict observance of the exterior prescriptions of the rule will place a heavy burden on a man who has enjoyed years of independ-ence. If, for example, he has been a heavy smoker for ten years or so and if he must observe a no-smoking rule, the damage to his good disposition will perhaps be compensated for in a cor-responding growth in character; but the sacrifice is sure to be severe--more so than for younger smokers. After leaving the novitiate where spiritual consolations and graces may have made the way easier for him, the older man' must still face years of study where the difference in age is no less than it was in the novitiate. These years of living with younger men un-questionably present a strain for his vocation; they will, how-ever, if properly met with patience and humility, give him his greatest opportunity for growth in emotional stability and for progress in the spiritual life. Most younger seminarians show brightness and intelligence in their speech and behavior. But at times this basie intelligence is accompanied by the thoughtlessness of immaturity. Many left their homes in middle adolescence; and sometimes their deport-ment tends to remain at the adolescent level, especially since 211 DAVID B. WADHAMS Review for Religion,s no one is constantly correcting them. This lack of maturity will be vexing for the older man, who is only too prone to see in the gaucherie of a few what he may tend to think of as the general boorishness of a class. Young men, for example, have an ex-tremely cavalier way of treating furniture. ,And if the older seminarian has spent the better part of three or four m~nths recovering and reupholstering the armchairs in the recreation room, he' has to swallow hard and bite his lip to keep from shouting at some young philosopher, blithely and quite uncon-sciously wiping'chocolate-covered fingers on the back of a newly covered chair, ¯ The older man must be careful in conversation too. His younger confreies will usually have no more than a ~udimentary background in the fields of non-religious knowledge.-Discussions of politics, art, the theater, economics, literature, all tend to be somewhat superficial. The younger man may often show a quick theoretical perception, yet he may lack sufficient critical discern-ment. Because of this the older man may find himself exercising an air of intellectual superiority and condescendingly needling his companions for their lack of sophistication. As one young seminarian has put it: "The older men ought to stop and think now and then that they have no monopoly on ideas. They could at least listen, even if they disagree." :o. In the midst of'such difficulties the older seminarian could well reflect that if he sometimes finds it difficult to be with the younger men, surely they too find his company occasionally try-ing. If he has passed through the fiery trials of the crucial years between twenty and thirty, his very scars should remind him that seminary life is not always easy for the young men who hunger for action and the exercise of their ministerial labors. Let him think back upon what he was doing at their age; the contrast should fill him with the desire for patience and for-bearance. If he was in the service, his amazement will be com-plete that fifty or more young men can .live together cheerfully, peacefully sharing a life of work, study, prayer, and play. oIn the service, as h~ knows, men behaved quite differently; by contrast, the charity of seminarians clearly shows the effect of supernatural grace. He should reflect maturely that if he is annoyed at little gaucheries and breaches of etiquette, some thoughtlessness and lack of discipline, he will never find more serious faults; for however much he may see of thoughtlessness in the seminary, he will encounter no deliberate malice. Indeed, 212 July, 1960 LATE VOCATION one of his greatest sufferings may be his anguish that he ~cannot accept the small shortcomings of others with greater grace and equanimity. Nostalgia for the Lay State During the first two or three years of his training the older man may be subject to a fierce nostalgia for the lay state. Just as the Jews hungered for the delights of their former, life in Egypt, the older seminarian may sometimes be seriously tempted to think of his life "in the world" as much more useful and vital. This feeling will be all the stronger in the man of great vitality. At times all the reasoning that brought him to his priestly studies will become darkened and submerged. He will forget that one great reason for his having left everything behind was a dissatisfaction with what he was doing. He may begin to chafe at certain restrictions, desiring freedom from the restraint of the seminary rule. What he begins to miss is the habitual adult independence he has always known. Sometimes he will think: "I am too fiercely independent; I am not tem-peramentally suited to the regular life; these habits of inde-pendence are ingrained." As serious as this temptation may be, it will tend to dis-appear as his security in his vocation grows; and in most cases it will not be a source of great anxiety after the~pronouncement of perpetual vows. The nostalgia for the lay state is one temp-tation which .can best be handled in spiritual direction. The subject should regard it as a serious temptation and conscien-tiously follow the course his director prescribes for him. Once a man finds himself in the major seminary of a religious con-gregation, he can rest in complete confidence as to his choice of a state in life. He has chosen by heeding the call; whether he should continue is for his superiors and spiritual :directors to decide. The cool and firm acceptance of this fact will save. the man the added anguish of continually doubting his vocation when the temptation arises to return to his former state of life. Conclusion The older seminarian must train himself to face his trials and difficulties peacefully and tranquilly. His age may indeed tend to make him less flexible in certain respects; he will be less subject to "formation," more set in his attitudes and out-look on life. But this very situation may also be an advantage. If he is mentally awake, he will be at the very., peak of his learning powers. Years of training in judgment will compensate 213 DAVID B. WADHAMS for any alleged diminution of learning powers said to begin after full adulthood is reached. Although the older seminarian may be tempted to think that his best years are being wasted in the seminary, he should remember that, just because he is older, he will see more deeply into the problems of philosophy and theology and that he will draw from them a greater intel-lectual enrichment and practical value. Finally, there are two general attitudes that will greatly .help an older man along in his seminary life. The two attitudes, one natural, the other supernatural, are so diverse as to be almost incongruous when juxtaposed together. Yet the two can work together to ease the trials of seminary life for him. The first attitude is that of a sense of humor. The man who finds his own idiosyncrasies laughable has a safety valve which he will need to use frequently. Since he is constantly confronted with human foibles, especially his own, it is far better to laugh at them with hearty, tolerant, and loving amusement than to dwell on them as consant pricks to pride and self-esteem. The second attitude is one that has been hinted at above; it is a complete trust in Divine Providence. Whatever can be said on the human level of religious life, there is never any waste in the management of things by the fatherly hand of God. The years the older seminarian spent "in the world" as well as the protracted time spent in seminary life before ordination are not useless but completely functional from the viewpoint of the Father who has counted even the hairs of our head. In this sense there is no such thing as a late vocation; the call came and was answered at the time chosen by Divine Wisdom. In this con-nection it will assist the older seminarian to reflect and meditate upon the role of late vocations in the history of the Church; it is not mere fancy to say that without late vocations the entire history of the Church would assume a different cast and com-plexion. Remove, for instance, the three late vocations of Ambrose, Augustine, and Loyola from the history of the Church and consider the difference the removal would make in the course of the Church's history. Indeed it would seem safe to say that of the confessor saints who lived before modern times, a large part of them, if not the majority, were what are called today late vocations. Having seen the finger of Providence with regard to late vocations in the history of the Church, the older sem-inarian will be able to draw therefrom a greater trust in that same Providence with regard to his own late vocation. 214 Is Religious Disobedience Always a Sin? Joseph J. Farraher, S.J. THE CONSTITUTIONS of most religious institutes state explicitly that they do not bind under pain of s{n, even venial sin, except where the vow of obedience is explicitly invoked, or where they determine the matter of the other vows. Most also state explicitly, or at least imply, that the same holds for orders of superiors. Why then do some spiritual writers imply otherwise? For example, Father Cotel in the Catechism of the Vows, says: One sins against the virtue of obedience when one does not carry out a formal order of a legitimate superior. If an order of a superior only recalls an obligation of rule or a com-mandment of God or of the Church, failure to observe it is not a fault against the special virtue of obedience. Such conduct often involves a sin against another virtue.1 In a footnote he adds: According to very famous theologians (St. Thomas, Suarez and others) a simple act of disobedience does not constitute a sin against the special virtue of obedience, but it contains nearly always one or more sins against other virtues.2 And in a later section, he says: Unless the Constitutions determine otherwise, simple injunctions of superiors, commands which are not. made in virtue of the vow, do not always oblige under pain of sin. If the superior formally commands a particular act not determined by the Constitutions, but in conformity with them, it is our opinion that disobedience is always sinful.:~ Again he adds a footnote: "Some thhologians seem ho~v-ever to admit the contrary:''4 And Father Kirsch in his Spi~'itual Di~'ection of Siste'rs under the heading "Sins against the Virtue of Obedience" says: "A religious offends against the virtue of obedience by disobey- 'Peter Cotel, S.J., and Emile Jombart, S.J., Catechis~n of the Vows (New York: Benziger, 1945), pp. 83-84. ~Ibid. ~Ibid., p. 85. ~Ibid. The Reverend Joseph J. Farraher is stationed at Alma College, Los Gatos, California 215 JOSEPH J', FARRAHER Review for Religious ing without reason, the usual commands, regulations, counsels and wishes of the superiors.''5 How can these statements be reconciled with the explicit statement of the constitutions of most religious institutes that fione of the rules or orders of superiors bind under pain of sin unless they explicitly invoke the vow? First of all, Father Kirsch and Father Cotel's Catechism imply that there could be a sin against the virtue of obedience as distinct from the vow of obedience. In this matter, wh usually think of the Fourth Commandment as commanding obedience to all legitimate superiors. Are not religious superiors legitimate superiors? However, the Fourth Commandment commands us to obey all legitimate superiors according to their authority. For ex-ample, children are obliged to obey their parents in all things, except where there is sin, and except in the choice of a state of life: marriage or the religious life. In this last the parents have no authority, and therefore there is no sin of disobedience if children disobey their parents in their choice of life. What is the source of the authority i~f religious superiors to give commands which would be binding under pain of sin by the virtue of obedience? It is not from the natural law, since religious communities are not natural societies, but rather conventional, that is, they are formed by the mutual agreement of the members. Therefore, if there is authority in religious superiors, it will be according to the form under which the in-stitute was organized. But most modern religious institutes (and even some ancient ones) state in their constitutions that. orders of superiors will bind under pain of sin only when they command explicitly in virtue of the vow of obedience. Therefore, there is here no source of authority to command under pain of sin apart from invoking the vow. But some authors, even when they admit that disobedience would not be a sin against the virtue of obedience (which even Cotel seems grudgingly to admit in a later passage), still insist that it almost always involves a sin against some other virtue.6 This brings up the question, certainly a theoretical one but one with very important practical applications, of whether or not a positive imperfection is a venial sin. By a positive imper-fection is meant the deliberate choice of a less perfect action, 5Felix M. Kirsch, O.F.M.Cap., The Spiritual Direction of Sisters (New York: Benziger, 1930), pp. 483-84. 6Cotel, op. cir., pp. 86-87. 216 J~dy, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE or the deliberate omission of the better action. For example, I realize that it would be better for me to make a visit to the Blessed Sacrament at this. time; but I deliberately decide not to do so, with no question of the alternative being a sin in itself-- perhaps to continue reading a book. Some theologians have held that every such positive imperfection would be a venial sin. They base their argument on the principle that we are obliged to seek our last end in the best way possible. But this contradicts the opinion of the majority of theologians. We are certainly obliged to seek our last end, but not necessarily in the best way possible. And it seems to me that we have a very strong argument from Holy Scripture itself, in several places, that it is not sinful to choose the less perfect. The most explicit example, I think, is in St. Paul's First Epistle to the Corinthians, in the seventh chapter, where he is talking about virginity and marriage. In verses seven and eight, he says: "I would that all men were even as myself [the im-plication is: virginal].; but everyone hath his proper gift from God: one after this manner, and another after that. But I say to the unmarried and. to the widows: it is good for them if they continue, even as I." And later in the same chapter: "Now con-cerning virgins, I have no commandment of the Lord, but I give counsel, as having obtained mercy of the Lord to be faithful. I think therefore that this is good for the present necessity : that it is good for a man so to be. Art thou bound to a wife? Seek not to be loosed. Art thou loosed from a wife? Seek not a wife. But if thou take a wife, thou hast not sinned. And if a virgin marry, she hath not sinned" (vv. 25ff.). And still a little further on, where St. Paul is talking about a father giving his daughter in marriage: "Therefore, both he that giveth his virgin in marriage doth well: and he that giveth her not doth better" (v. 38). Is not St. Paul saying explicitly here that while it is better to remain virginal, nevertheless it is not a sin to marry? This certainly is the choice between the better and the less good. And he does not qualify it by saying that if one cannot do the better, it is all right to do the less good. He simply gives a comparison: that for the same man, it is better if he does not marry, but it is good if he does, and he does not sin in marrying. So, this is at least one example where deliberately choosing the lesser good is 217 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious not a sin: which proves that the universal statement to the contrary is false. But some adversaries answer: At least to disobey a rule or order of superiors would almost always be a sin because it will involve a bad motive. They give as examples, that it will be done out of laziness or sensuality or human respect. For this, Father Gerald Kelly, S.J., has a good answer in his book on Guidance for Religious (pp. 258-59).7 He is talking about the obligation of daily morning and evening prayers; but, as he himself says, it applies also to the obligation of rules: They would say (i.e., those holding for sin): "Theoretically there is no obligation to pray every day: but in practice there is usually a sin in the omission of these prayers, because when daily prayers are omitted without a sufficient reason this is often due to a small fault of laziness, sensuality, or human respect." This formula, or a somewhat similar one, is sponsored by eminent theologians; and catechists who wish to follow it in explaining the duty of praying are certainly justified in doing so. But I would not recommend it. I find it confusing. It says, on the one hand, that daily prayers are not of obligation, yet on the other, it demands a sufficient reason under pain of sin for omitting them. This seems to beg the entire question; for if there is no obligation to say daily prayers, why should a reason be required under pain of sin for omitting them? As for the statement that failure to say these prayers could be a sin of laziness, it seems to ignore completely the distinction between imperfection and venial sin. [In a footnote at this point, Fr. Kelly admits that those who hold that every positive im-perfection is a venial sin would logically hold this doctrine.] Laziness is not a sin in the strict sense; it is an inordinate disposition or tendency, and it becomes sinful only when it leads to the neglect of some duty binding under pain of sin. In other words, laziness is an imperfection when it induces one to act against a counsel (for instance, to break a rule which does not bind under pain of sin), and it is a sin when it leads one to violate a precept (for instance, to miss Sunday Mass in whole or in part). And what I have said of laziness is similarly true of such things as sensuality and human respect. According to this doctrine of Father Kelly, if a person de-liberately violates a rule or ordination of superiors, because it is easier not to do the thing ordered, for love of comfort, or for laziness, if you want to call it that, it is not a sin. Obviously, to seek comfort is not of itself a sin, or we could not have any cushions, soft beds, pillows, or anything of the kind. A certain amount of comfort is even necessary. The love of comfort there-fore is not wrong in itself; it is wrong only when it leads one to do something that is sinful, or to omit something to which one is bound under pain of sin. To omit something to which one is not bound, because of the love of comfort, is not therefore a sin. 7Westminster: Newman, 1956. 218 July, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE Obviously, if the action one chooses in place of obeying the rule is something sinful in itself, it will be a sin. But the mere fact that it is breaking the rule, will not of itself ever make an action a sin that would not be a sin even if there were no rule. How then does one sin against obedience? Aside from dis-obeying those commands which are given in virtue of the vow of obedience, one can also sin against obedience by formal con-tempt for authority. All the authors agree that this does not mean contempt for the person who holds authority, but formal contempt for authority itself. One can also sin against other virtues in disobeying the rules. Formal contempt for religious life and religious rule in general would be a sin against the virtue of religion. And, as was said before, if there is a really sinful motive in one's action and not ,just a less perfect motive, then there will be a sin; but that is apart from the fact that a rule is being violated. There is a further way in which one might sin by dis-obedience to rules and regulations: if one does it habitually, one might very well be getting into a proximate danger of losing his vocation. For a novice, that would not be sinful, because a novice is not bound to that vocation. But one who has taken perpetual vows is bound for life. Therefore, to endanger the perpetuity of his vows knowingly and willingly could be a sin. Generally speaking, an individual violation of a rule or an order of superiors not invoking the vow of obedience would not be a sin in itself, unless the act is sinful apart: from any violation of the rule. I hope that it is cl,early understood that I am not suggesting that we should violate rules or orders of superiors. Certainly, if we truly want to signalize ourselves in the more perfect following of our Lord, we shall ordinarily do our best to observe all rules and regulations. But our motive should be the love of God, not the fear of sin. But is not the rule the will of God for us? Is it not wrong to go against God's will? It would be wrong to go against the preceptive will of God. But the rule is not the preceptive will of God; it is a counsel, a guidepost or directive to the better way of serving and loving God. And even then the statement must be qualified: ordinarily the rule indicates the better thing to be done. But, as we know, no rule made by a human being can be so perfect that it could not admit of exceptions in extraordinary circumstances. But at least ordinarily, in ordinary circumstances, 219 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious the rule is for us the indication of the better way of serving God. But what about the form of the rules? Some will say that they are in the form of laws and all true laws bind in conscience. Some thelogians, myself included, would not agree that all laws must bind in conscience,s But if such a statement is admitted, then the rules are not laws. Because they do not intend to bind in conscience, regardless of how they are worded. This is clear from the constitutions themelves in stating that they do not bind under pain of sin. So, regardless of their wording, they are meant as mere directives to the more perfect following of Christ. Is there any sense in which they contain an obligation? Yes, I think there is- but not under pain of sin. What does obligation mean ? It seems to be a form of necessity in the moral order. When I say moral order here, I mean not in the physical or metaphysical order, but in the order of human conduct. It is a conditional necessity. If we want to achieve a certain end, we must do this particular thing. When we speak of a moral obli-gation, not simply an obligation in the moral order, but an obligation binding under pain of sin, we mean this: that if we want to achieve our ultimate end, we must do a certain thing. Now, we are obliged to seek our ultimate end, therefore we have an absolute necessity to take the necessary means. But if the end itself is not absolutely necessary, then we have no absolute necessity to take the means. We have only a conditional necessity. If we want this particular end, we must take these means. There are obvious examples of this use of words implying obligation which are certainly outside the realm of sin. For instance, if you are playing bridge and bid two spades, you must take eight tricks. That is an obligation, an obligation not under Pain of sin, but an obligation of the game. If you do not take eight tricks, you will receive a penalty. There is no moral fault in not taking the required number of tricks, nor does the in-flicting of a penalty imply this. But there is a certain necessity to take the eight tricks, if you want to succeed at the game. So also in the moral order : we might speak of the conditions of gaining an indulgence. One must fulfill all the conditions, if one wants to gain the indulgence. But one is not obliged to gain the indulgence. Therefore, one is not obliged absolutely to do these things required for the indulgence. For ihstance, if one sSt. Thomas also holds that counsels are an ordinary part of the law, Summa Theologiae, 1-2, 104, 4. 220 J~dy, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE wishes to say the same prayer, but not fulfill the conditions of the indulgence, he is free to do so. But if one wants to gain the indulgence, one must fulfill the conditions. You can call that a form of obligation, but not under pain of sin. So also with the rules. If we want to follow the more perfect way, we must do what the rule commands. But are we not obliged to seek.the more. perfect way by our profession as religious? No, the religious profession binds us under pain of sin only to those.things which are explicitly vowed, ~vhich are poverty according to the constitutions, chastity in its perfection, including celibacy or virginity, and obedience in those things which are commanded in virtue of the vow. This is a more perfect way of life, and to this much we are strictly obliged under pain of sin. But we are not obliged by the vows to seek the most perfect in everything we do: If we want to be more perfect still, we must follow the rules and regular;ions. But we are not obliged to them under pain of sin. If we so neglect them that we proximately endanger the fulfillment of our vows or their perpetuity, then of course we are sinni.ng,. Are we not obliged under pain of sin at least by the law.of the Church, which in canon 593 says that religious should order their lives in accordance with the rules and constitutions of their own order and so strive for perfection? A Claretian moralist, Father A. Peinador recently proposed this argument.9 But practically all authorities on canon law, including the out-standing Claretian expert on the canon law of religious, Father Goyeneche,1° agree that this canon adds no new obligation, and that, in fact, a religious can sin against the specific obligation of striving for perfection only by contempt, and not even by individual violations of his vows. In spite of Father Peinador's worries, the individuality of each order is still preserved by the fact that the rules and constitutions determine the matter of the vows and further determine the matter in ~vhich superiors can invoke the vow of obedience. Two. other arguments are proposed by Father Peinador in his effort to prove that the rules and constitutions, oblige under pain of sin in spite of his admission, that this is contrary ~"'Obligan o no obligan las reglas?" Vida Religiosa, 16 (1959), 149-52, 216-20. I°Qt~aestio~es Ca~tonicae de Ittre Religiosor~¢~, 2 (Naples: D'Auria, 1955), 8. Cf. also Bouscaren-Ellis, C(t~ton Law (Milwaukee: Bruce, 1953), p. 285. 221 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER Review for Religious to the wishes of both-their authors and the Church herself. The first is based on the expression, used by St. Thomas and others, that the rules oblige ad poenam: It is true that some authors have interpreted this to mean that, although the rules do not oblige to their immediate object, they do impose an obligation under pain of sin to accept any penance imposed for their viola-tion. Father Peinador thinks that it is absurd to hold that the rules would impose a heavier obligation to accept a penance than to do what is enjoined in the first place. But if it is an absurdity (and I am among those who agree that it is), the conclusion should not be that "therefore the rules oblige under pain of sin," but rather, "therefore there is no obligation under pain of sin to accept a penance imposed by rule or by superiors unless it is imposed in virtue of the vow (as some few are in some con-stitutions), or unless the avoidance of the penance would be a sin for some other reason.''11 Some further explanation may seem required here; but as was hinted above, to discuss the whole question of the obligation of law in general and of purely penal laws in particular, would take too much time and space. Let it suffice for now to point out two briefer answers: either that the constitutions and rules are not truly laws, as Father Peinador himself holds; or, that the expression ad poenam,really means what we would usually indicate by sub poena. This is clear from St. Thomas's use of the expression in opposition to ~d culpam, in English we might translate sub poena (and hence ad poenam as used by St. Thomas) as under threat of penalty, just as we usually translate ad culpam or sub culpa as under pain of sin. Finally, Father Peinador complains that if the rules do not oblige "under pain of sin" (sub culpa), they oblige only "under pain of imperfection" (ba]o imperfecci6n), which to him does not make sense. The expression does sound peculiar; I have never before seen it used. What is usually held is that the violation of a rule is usually an imperfection. I do not think that anyone considers this a threat, as ba]o would seem to imply. It does imply that desire for perfection for love of God rather than fear of sin should be our motive for obeying the rule. If Father Peina-dor means to imply that every positive imperfection is a sin, his objection has already been answered above. l~That this is true of purely penal laws is taught by Vermeersch, I, n. 472, and St. Alphonsus, Theologia moralis, lib. I, n. 145. 222 July, 1960 RELIGIOUS DISOBEDIENCE To summarize: one would sin against religious obedience only on two scores: by a direct violation of an order given in virtue of the vow, or by formal contempt for authority (admit-tedly a very rare form of sin). Endangering the fulfillment of the vows, or contempt for religious life or constitutions could be a sin against religion. Otherwise, a violation of a rule or regulation will be a sin only if the act would be sinful apart from all idea of disobedience. An example of what might be a sin on the occasion of a violation of a rule would be a violation of silence in sfich a way as to disrupt the common order and to cause real inconvenience and mental suffering to those who are trying to serve God in a more perfect way according to the rule. The principles of what is given above are those taught by practically all theologians, including St. Thomas Aquinas,I~ St. Alphonsus,13 and Suarez.14 The practical application as to how often a violation of a rule may involve a sin for some other reason differs from Suarez, who judges that a violation will almost always involve a venial sin because of a venially sinful motive. In this he is correctly cited in Father Cotel's footnote cited earlier. St. Thomas and St. Alphonsus hold that a violation can and perhaps often does involve a venial sin because of a venially sinful motive. All three agree that no violation of a rule will be a venial sin because it is a violation of a rule, but only if the act would be a sin apart from any violation of the rule. Some who follow Suarez' rather severe judgment of fact are heard at times to say such things as: a violation of the rule of silence almost always (or very frequently) involves a venial sin against charity. That seems a rather severe judgment. If one sincerely held that, he would have to hold that almost all conversation, even during recreation times, involves sins against charity. I would not like to admit that. 1"-'Summa Theologiae, 2-2, 186, 9, for the rule; 104, 5, for orders of superiors; 186, 3, on the obligation to perfection. ~'~Theologi~ moralis, lib. IV, n. 38, for the rule; n. 42 for orders of superiors.In both places he simply gives the text of Busenbaum without further comment. ~4De religione, tract. 8, lib. 1, "De obligationibus religiosorum . . . ," cap. IV, nn. 12-13. 223 JOSEPH J. FARRAHER In a'll this we must always remember that the chief motive for embracing religious life should be the more perfect serving of God, and that love of God, not fear of sin, should lead all religious ordinarily to follow all rules and regulations of superiors.15. -. l~Father Rene Carpentier, S.J., in his Life in the City of God (New York: Benziger, 1959), ~vhich according to the title-page is "a completely recast edition, of A Catcchis~t of the Vows," emphasizes the motive of love throughout the book. He also states the obligations of religious obedience under pain of sin, pp. 158-63, much more in the manner outlined in this article. 224 The Problem of Transition for the Junior Sister Sister Mary Magdalen, OoP. In a narrow circle the mind contracts; Man grows with his expanded needs.I THESE WORDS of the eighteenth-century poet apply to any of us at any one stage of our lives; and we who have the rich treasury of the Church always at our disposal must, indeed, blush if our needs do not precipitate that growth which "enriches the harvest o~ charity so that [we] will have abun-dant means of every kind for all that generosity which gives proof of our gratitude toward G6d" (2 Cor 9:10-11). At certain times in our life of grace we reach a plane where a marked change or growth takes place, from which we emerge with new attitudes, firmer convictions to reach for higher alti-tudes. We are not "that which we have been.''2 We have expe-rienced a transition, a "development or evolution from one clearly-defined stage to another"; a "changing from an earlier to a later form with the blending of old and new features"; a building-up which enhances and brings to completion the foun-dation already laid. Such transitions we will experience often enough as we go life's journey; one such is the particular aim of the juniorate period, following the novitiate formation in religious houses. The areas of sensitivity in this development are not difficult to ascertain as we watch the junior sister try to find her place in professed life. She must adapt herself to a more intensive study program, to a more mature assuming of responsibility under obedience, to new social relations that include some secular contacts, to a wider range of age levels and interests in her own religious family. She finds herself being urged toward develop-ing her individuality, yet toward a more virile obedience ; toward creativity, yet toward a zealous dedication to the common life; 1Schiller, Prologues, 1.59. :Byron, Childe Harold, Canto 4, stanza 185. Sister Mary Magdalen is Mistress of Jt~niors at St. Catherine's Convent, Racine, Wisconsin. 225 SISTER ~/~ARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious she is confused in her new environment of "thinking for your-self" and "thinking with the community." Above all, she is not a little appalled by the large issue of resolving~everything within her obligation to grow daily in the love of God, a duty she freely assumed ~with her vows. "How," she asks, bewildered, "do I harmonize it all?" It becomes the task of the junior mistress, then, and of all who deal with the juniors, to analyze the situation, to provide gradually the helps they need to adapt, to take root, and to grow. Since the juniorate provides an intensive study program, what transition will be involved here? Perhaps this is the place, if it has not been previously achieved, to give a clearer under-standing of a truly integrated liberal arts program and the end toward which it aims. We find that though this has been dis-cussed from the postulant's beginning year, the junior sister, probably entering her junior academic year in college, will now be more ready to appreciate such a program. Study is much more the dominant activity of her day than in the earlier years when the novelty of the life, novitiate formation, absence of stability of profession--all militated somewhat against an inten-sive concentrated life of study. Indeed, it may even be somewhat of a problem to convince all junior sisters of the proportionate importance of study in their lives. To sound this note last August we prepared a sym-posium and informal discussion before college classes began on: "The Place of Study in Religious Life." The outline used follows at the end of this paper. Since at this time some of the young sisters still need help with the self-discipline of study, a candid reporting and dis-cussion of these difficulties individually with the mistress offers a helpful way to arouse the sincere desire and effort to establish the habit. Study time must, of course, be provided, and the course load be kept within limits, credit-wise. Long periods of study from two to three hours, at least sometimes, are a real necessity. Along with developing an attitude toward study, these are the years during which to build an attitude toward a habit of broad and well-chosen reading. The young sister must be helped in this by providing the right reading matter, by dis-cussion and motivation toward the choice she will be required to make. The sister must be shown that the need for a profes-sional woman is to keep well-informed on current trends, cul-tural, economic, scientific, to know the mind of the Church on 226 July, 1960 THE JUNIOR SISTER controversial matters, to discuss opinions intelligently (first, to have some), and to choose books that will broaden her ability to evaluate literature, history, the arts, and contemporary move-ments. Here the college instructors must be interested, as, indeed, we find them to be. The Directed Readings courses in the various fields of concentration challenge the sisters to a critical evalua-tion of works ranging through Plato, Aristotle, and Longinus to Tawney's Religion and the Rise of Capitalism, Karl Marx's Kapital, Veblen's Theory of the Leisure Class, works of Newman, Maritain, Hemingway, and Riesman. This practice in seeing'rela-tion of parts to a whole, in evaluation, and in individual and group critical thinking is a facility that can be used by way of transition in attitudes toward religious life. At a recent Chicago meeting of the AHE (Association for Higher Education) the emphasis in a sectional discussion centered on the need for a right conformity along with creativity in thinking and adting. Mr. Kenneth Little of the University of Wisconsin, quoting St. Augustine, reminded the educators present that "the best indi-viduality will ultimately lead to a slavery to God." The whole trend of thinking was that basic disciplines in the classical tradi-tions alone will prepare the mind to develop its own freedom in thinking on contemporary issues and problems. Conformity, rightly understood, and creativity must be seen to be comple-mentary rather than incompatible. The thoughtful junior sister will soon transfer this understanding to' her life of obedience and the development of her own personality. The principles of integration found in the curriculum will take on a new meaning for the sister student at this level. She will begin to relate her biological and physical sciences to the philosophical concepts at her disposal, and her theology, besides becoming a stronger personal defense in her religious life, will serve as a norm to which each discipline will look, while retain-ing its individual distinction as a science. Literature will become a laboratory in which human problems are tested and tried but never completely solved and from which vision .will often arise; contemporary changes on the technological, political, economic scene will prove a challenge, fitting themselves into place in human history, posing questions for the present, challenges for the immediate future. From these understandings and attitudes we can help the young sister in her personal problem of living her vows. From conformity and individuality in analyzing literature, art; and 227 SISTER MARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious history, we can lead her to a clearer appreciation of the en-nobling power of obedience, of her duty to expand her talents, to enrich her personality, and to strengthen her character. She can find her penance in the long hours of severe mental and physical discipline demanded by study; she can direct this pen-ance by her will to love ; she will find her reward both in growth in grace and in love of learning. Father Gustave Weigel, S.J., puts it thus: "Esteem for scholarship will not be produced by legislation or even construction of programs. It is a matter of creative love. To love you must be acquainted. To look for new acquaintances, there must be dissatisfaction with what is at hand.'''~ This dissatisfaction will prompt her to forge ahead in both her intellectual and her supernatural life, for we must help her constantly to see these as one. When to interpret for herself, when to seek advice, when the letter, when the spirit of the law--these knowledges must come to her somewhat through experience, even, as to all of us, through trial and error. No-where will she find the standard rule, the "capsuled" formula, though she will eagerly seek it. We can instruct with examples, but we must also leave room for failure, that necessary human-izing experience from which we as a people shrink. The junior sister must be encouraged to think out her own problems, to do some interpreting of emergency situations, to come out with the wrong answer and face her own mistake. She must be helped through this to the courage to start over, to smile through difficulties, to laugh at herself at times. Many of these understandings and developed appreciations of her religious life, then, will be incidental, casual, imbibed along with her daily living. A formal program of instruction, is, of course, necessary also. We have found the third part of Father McElhone, C.S.C.'s, Spirituality for Postulate, No~)itiate, Scholasticatea an excellent and practical guide for weekly instruc-tions. It lends itelf to natural deviations as the needs of the group demand. The divisions are: Sacrifice, Charity, Humility, Offense to God, Love of God, Accusation of Faults and Sins, Security of Rules and Vows, Temptation, Identification with Christ, Communion, Authority, The Trinity, Eternal Life. The material will easily spread itself over a two-year period. In covering "Sacrifice" we spent some weeks discussing sacrifice 3Gustave Weigel, S.J., "American Catholic Intellectualism," Review Politics, 19 (July, 1957), 275-307. 4Notre Dame: Ave Maria Press, 1955. 228 July, 1960 THE JUNIOR SISTER and renewing our undertanding and appreciation of the Mass, concentrating especially on My Mass by Joseph Putz, S.J.5 Then the virtues of sacrifice, humility, and charity were studied as they w~re portrayed in the lives of our Dominican Saints and our foundress, Mother Benedicta Bauer, O.P. This carried us through the first semester. "Offense to God" and "Accusation of Faults and Sins" we combined in a study of the use of the sacrament of penance, of general and particular examen of ~onscience, and the relation of these to meditation and recol-lection. Our object here was to challenge the sister to see these aspects of her religious growth as a unit, to help her approach her subject of particular examen positively, through the practice of recollection, through harmonizing it .when possible with meditation and mental prayer, with her efforts at self-knowledge. This is to militate against the discouragement commonly ex-pressed by the young sister: "If I make a resolution after meditation, one in my particular examen, one after confession, if I try to concentrate on something quite different during silence by way of recollection, where do I end?--in confusion!" We make an effort, then to "integrate" here, though admittedly it is uphill work, one which is only begun, since it involves patient waiting for the Holy Spirit. Meanwhile we show the importan'ce of constantly striving anew, of making consistent efforts at particular examen, recollection, and mental prayer, cardinal points on which ultimate success hinges. One can help the sister here, individually again; but the approach to the individual conference should put the burden of effort, at least apparently, on the sister herself. Does she need help? Does she want help? Let her go on from there. In still another sphere, we find the junior sister facing a transition--that of adjusting to secular companions in some of her classes and to a more mature group of sisters. We believe in having the juniors mix with the other professed. While we do have provisions for separate recreations, our junior sisters have free contact with all the sisters and join them in many of their recreations. This is an idea] situation for their better under-standing of the older s~sters, for a new relationship with their college teachers. It gives them an insight into the life and valuable services of our nurses and domestic sisters. There are opportunities to observe and test their own youthful impru- ~Westminster: Newman, 1958. 229 SISTER MARY MAGDALEN Review for Religious dences; to visit the sick and read to them; to share experiences with sisters who are not engaged in the schools; to get a better picture of the personnel needed to do all of the community's work. In the classroom situation, too, ihey meet secular students. They are sometimes confronted with unexpected competition, with views, outlooks, examples which alert them to problems of a world from which they are otherwise easily removed. They are challenged at making small decisions as to conversation, explanation, to a sense of poise and graciousness expected of them, to a loyalty to their community, experienced in practice for the first time. We might ask, now, besides the religious instruction and individual counselling, what other approaches can be t~sed to help the juniors in these important transitions? Here, more than ever before in the formation period, must we help her to help herself. An effective and appealing method to face and penetrate mutual problems is the group discussion--in any form. We mentioned earlier an orientation-to-school discussion on "The Place of Study in the Religious Life." The topic was broken down thus : I. Definition of Terms. II. St. Thomas and Study. The virtue of studiousness. a. What it is. b. What it is not. III. Study and the Religious Life. a. Purpose. b. Integration. IV. Practical Considerations. a. Attitudes: . b. Motives. c. Advantages. V. The Apostolate and Study. a. Need for preparation. b. Responsibility of an "apostle." The sisters admitted to a new alertness in the importance of the role of study in their lives. We feel it convinced them that study was truly the chief duty of their state for the time being. Another topic for discussion suggested by the young sisters themselves later in the year as representing a direct need was: "Practical Aspects of Poverty." Our approach this time: Each 230 Ju~, 1960 THE ,.]'UNIOR SISTER sister was asked to submit a question of her own on the subject. These were classified and duplicated so that all might consider, discuss, investigate, and mull over in informal conversation before the final discussion. Other discussions fruitful in broad-ening and stabilizing the sisters' views were centered on "Criti-cism and Censorship in Art and Literature," and on two rather controversial lectures delivered by Ashley Montagu and Vance Packard respectively. We hold, also, weekly, an informal dis-cussion of the Sunday Gospel with the question in mind: "What is Christ telling or asking of us in these words of His?" Quite frequently the discussion leads to a healthy "housecleaning" on points of courtesy, rule, and schedule, and to a group resolution, spontaneously arrived at. Summarily, if the atmosphere of the juniorate and of the sister's entire environment is one of mutual generosity and sin-cere desire to help them make the most of this valuable time, if they are encouraged in the virtues of honesty, candor, and justice, if they are helped to.appreciate somewhat the challenge of the complexities of life, no matter where it is lived, the efforts of all involved will be greatly repaid. We can, then, app~:oach this transition period with the junior sister, aware of the challenge, alert to the possibilities for development, humbly confident that "according to the grace that is given us" (Rom 5:2) we can help .her grow up toward her full stature in Christ. 231 Survey of Roman Documents R. I~. Smith, S.J. IN THIS ARTICLE a summary will be given of the documents that appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis (AAS) during January, February, and March, 1960. All references throughout the survey will be to the 1960 AAS (v. 52). The Christmas Message The 1959 Christmas message (pp. 27-35) was devoted by John XXIII to the subject of peace. The first and most important part of the message was concerned with three types of peace and the conditions under which each type can exist, l~eace, His Holiness said, is first of all peace of heart, an interior state of the spirit of each individual. The condition for this kind of peace, he added, is a loving and filial dependence on the will of God. The Second type of peace considered by the Holy Father was social peace, harmony within nations. This peace, he stated, must be based on a deep respect for the personal dignity of each man. ~Christ's incarnation and redemption, he continued, has dignified not only the human race, but each individual of the race. For if He has so loved the individual as to give Himself for him (Gal 2:20), then each man deserves to be given an absolute respect. This attitude is fundamental to all the Church's social teaching, according to which wealth, economy,, and the state are for man, and not man for them. The internal peace of nations, he warned, is threatened by treating men as mere instruments, simple means of production. Contrariwise only by recognizing the dignity of man will a natioa be able to dissolve civil discord. The Vicar of Christ then discussed the third type of peace, inter-national peace. The basis for this peace according to the Pope's message ¯ is truth. The Christian saying that the truth will make men free is also valid on the level of international relations. Hence in the pursuit of peace on the international level, force, nationalism, and the like must be sur-passed; and attempts towards peace must be based on rational and Christian moral principles. From truth, he added, proceeds justice; and justice in turn must be sustained by Christian charity which by its nature embraces all men. Then only will there be a real international life and not merely a coexistence. In the second part of the message the Holy Father pointed out errors b~eing made today by those who are striving to bring peace to the world. Peace, he said in this connection, is indivisible; hence it must be present in all its elements. Accordingly social and international peace are impossible without peace of heart. For true peace men must first of all 232 ROMAN DOCUMENTS be "men of good will." Hence the first step towards peace must be to remove the moral obstacles to it, especially in view of the present dis-equilibrium between scientific progress and moral progress. In the third part of the message the Pope spoke of the work of the Church for peace. He pointed out that she prays for peace; moreover she uses all her means, especially the treasures of her doctrine, to produce peace. It is indeed in and through her doctrine that she has been able to formulate the leading causes of modern international disturbance. These causes are the following: violations of the human person, of the family, and of labor; a disregard of the true and Christian idea of the state; the deprivation of the liberty of other nations; the systematic oppression of the cultural and linguistic characteristics of national minorities; a selfish use of economic resources to the damage and injury of other nations; and the persecution of religion and of the Church. In the fourth and final part of the message John XXIII called on all Catholics to be active in the work for peace and to be conscious of the fact that they have a command from on high for such activity. He then expressed his best wishes to all men especially the poor, the humble, and the suffering. The Consistories On December 14 and December 17, 1959 (pp. 5-24), the Pontiff held three consistories for the creation of eight new cardinals. In the first consistory, which was a secret one, the Pope delivered an allocution in which he stated that his choice of the new cardinals had been governed by a desire to show forth not only the unity of the Church but her univer-sality as well. The rest of his allocution was concerned with a summary of the principal events in the preceding year of his pontificate. Thereafter there took place the creation of the new cardinals; Cardinals Cicognani and Copello changed their cardinalatial churches; appointments to the hierarchy since the last consistory were read out; and the consistory closed with the postulation of the pallium b y newly appointed archbishops. In the second and public consistory the Holy Father imposed the red hat on the new cardinals. In the third consistory, which again was a secret one, the latest appointments to the hierarchy were announced and cardinalatial churches were assigned to the new members of the Sacred College. To the Laity On January 10, 1960 (pp. 83-90), His Holiness addressed an allocution to members of Catholic Action of the diocese of Rome. In the first part of the allocution the Pontiff detailed his long interest in Catholic Action, remarking that he has been actively associated with it since the year 1922. He also expressed his utmost confidence in Catholic Action for the future. In the second part of the allocution the Vicar of Christ developed some of the characteristics of Catholic Action. He told his listeners that Catholic Action was first of all a help to the clergy, as its classic definition 233 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious as the collaboration of the laity in the a~ostolate of the hierarchy shows. The work of Catholic Action, he pointed out, is an effort towards the ful-fillment of that part of the Our Father which reads,."Thy kingdom come." This work of the laity began already in ~he time of the apbstles; it was in this time too that the principle was laid down that nothing should be done without the bishop. The work of Catholic Action, however, can never be achieved without a solid spiritual formation of the individual member. Hence he exhorted his listeners to a life of habitual prayer accompanied by a deep liturgical spirit and a profound sense of the Church. Catholic Action, the Pope continued, is also a spectacle of disciplined unity. The unity of the Church, he said, has an irresistible attractiveness for men. Accordingly Catholic Action must be and appear an organization of union and concord; and this harmony must be shown simultaneously on the level of ideas, of plans, and of execution. Finally the Pontiff said that Catholic Action must be a luminous sign for modern times; it must be the angel in Apoc 14:6 wl~ich carried aloft the eternal gospel. Catholic Action will be. such a sign by defending the fundamental principles of Christian social order, by safeguarding the rights of man, and by validating the things that constitute man's dignity, his liberty, and his inalienable rights. The subject of education was also treated by the Pope in another written message of January 10, 1960 (pp. 100-103). This message was directed to the Interamerican Congress of Catholic Education held at Ciudad de San Josg in Costa Rica. In the message he told the congress that every true and deep education is the work of grace; hence the chief work of the educator is to cooperate with that grace. In order that an adolescent will persevere in the spiritual life given to him by the school, it is necessary, said the Pope, that the school develop in the child a spirit of initiative and an atmo~sphere of spontaneity and sincerity. Moreover, religious training must be directed not only to the intellect but to the will and heart as well. Furthermore, the Pontiff continued, religious culture should parallel the youth's growth in literary and scientific matters. Finally, religiou~ training should prepare the youth for his future family~ civic, and professional responsibilities; it should also provide him with an exercise of the apostolate and of charity. On November 25, 1959 (pp. 54-55), John XXIII directed a written message to the International Federation of Catholic Youth, meeting in Buenos Aires. Among ~other pieces of advice to them, the Vicar of Christ urged them to a great love and respect for their priests and chaplains, telling them that it is these priests who will open to them the sources of Christian doctrine, imbue them with the spirit of sacrifice and self-mastery, and lead them to a generous life of prayer and self-giving. A written message of December 8, 1959 (pp. 96-98), was directed by the Vicar of Christ to the meeting of Pax Romana held in Manila and devoted to the theme of the social responsibility of the student and the intellectual. He told the group that they should be proud of having been. chosen by 234 July, 1960 ROMAN DOCUMENTS Christ to be His witnesses even to the ends of the world. They must, he wrote, make themselves worthy of their call by living a profoundly Christian life; and they must endeavor to gain the respect of their col-leagues by their professional and moral competence. He also bade them to direct their studies to the Church's social doctrine, since the countries of Asia are now in a period of rapid economic growth. Finally he urged them to translate the message of Christian truth into forms appropriate to the Oriental soul. On February 9, 1960 (pp. 158-60), the Holy Father sent a written message to the school children of the United States asking them to pray for the needy children of other lands that they may be kept free from sin and have the strength to overcome temptation. He also asked them to be generous in contributing gifts, clothes, and money to such children. On December 8, 1959 (AAS, pp. 45-50), His Holiness addressed a group of Italian Catholic lawyers. Since the group had previously dis-cussed the subject of freedom of the press, it was this subject that the Pontiff considered in his allocution to them. He disclosed to his listeners his grave anxiety over much that is being printed today and its effects on the young and the innocent. In the matter.of the liberty of the press, he continued, it is always.necessary to have a clear conscience as well as one that is balanced, not insensitive, and not lax. The right to truth, he said, and the right to an objective morality based on the permanence of divine law is anterior and superior to every other right and need. Accord~ ingly there are necessary limitations to the freedom of the press and these limitations are found especially in matters that may do violence to the innocence of the child and the adolescent. Is it ever licit, he asked his listeners, to make a criminal deed the occasion of description and narration that are nothing else than a school of sin and an incentive to vice? In this area, the Pope insisted, the limitations of the press must be rigorously defined; and he called on his audience to study the matter carefully. He also told the lawyers that they should not fea~ to reprove the press and should endeavor to subject it to a human, civil, and Christian discipline. They should especially see to it that the press does not violate fundamental human rights. It would, he concluded, be the legalization of license, if the press were fred to subvert the r.eligious and moral foundations of the people. On December 30, 1959 (pp. 57-59), the Holy Father sent a written message to a meeting at Utrecht of the International Office of Catholic Education; the meeting had been called to commemorate the thirtieth anniversary of Pius XI's encyclical on education, Divini illius Magistri. The encyclical, the Pope told the group, has lost none of its truth; today as then the Church still declares the rights of herself and of the family in regard to education to be anterior to those of the state in the same matter. He also mentioned that since at the present moment national and international authorities are anxious about the intellectual and moral elevation of the human race, it is now more important than ever to have active members of the Church who are ready to explain and defend 235 R. F. SMITH Review for Religious the Church's point of view. They should also strive to adapt the principles of the encyclical to the new situations that have arisen since its publica-tion; and on the personal level they should strive to become the profes-sional and moral elite which the world and the Church need. Miscellaneous Documents On December 18, 1959 (pp. 166-69), the Sacred Congregation of Rites officially affirmed the heroicity of the virtues of the Servant of God, Elizabeth Ann Seton (1774-1821). On February 17,' 1960 (pp. 91-94), the Pope delivered an allocution at the solemn obsequies h~ld for Cardinal Stepinac in St. Peter's, telling the congregation that the deceased cardinal gave a modern example of Christ's words that a true pastor gives his life for his flock. By the Apostolic Letter, Maiora in dies, dated December 8, 1959 (pp. 24-26), the International Marian Academy was made a Pontifical Academy. On February 17, 1960 (pp. 152-58), the Pope delivered an allocution to the faculty and student body of the Pontifical Biblical Institute on the fiftieth anniversary of its foundation. After recalling the Institute's work and success during the last fifty years, he told the Institute to look forward to the future. He urged them to a life of scientific serious-ness which would employ all modern means of investigation and work and which would have the courage to face the problems aroused by recent research and discoveries. Their work, however, should also be characterized by prudence and sobriety, so that they do not propose as definitive that which is only a working hypothesis. He pointed out to the Institute and its members that their work was not merely to form Biblical specialists, but also men who are filled with sacredotal zeal and who brave the souls of prophets and apostles. The work of the Institute, therefore, is a truly priestly work. In all their work they must also have an absolute fidelity to the deposit of faith and to the teaching authority of the Church. Finally in their efforts to understand the pages of Scripture," they must recall the advice of St. Augustine: "Pray in order that you may understand." On December 6, 1959 (pp. 51-52), the Pontiff broadcast a message to the faithful of the Philippines at the beginning of their national mission year. On December 13, 1959 (pp. 52-53), the Pope sent a radio message to the people of Ecuador on the occasion of their presentation of a crown to a statue of our Lady of the Rosary. On January 1, 1960 (pp. 98-100), he sent a written message to the people of Nicaragua on the occasion of the nation's consecration to the Sacred Hearts of Jesus and Mary. On January 22, 1960 (pp. 90-91), John XXIII addressed an allocution to Konrad Adenauer, Chancellor of Germany, and on February 22, 1960 (pp. 95-96), to President Manuel Prado of Peru. Under the date of December 22, 1959 (pp. 61-62), the Sacred Apostolic Penitentiary issued the text of a prayer composed by the Pope to be recited by members of newly-founded churches. Faithful of such churches can gain an indulgence of three years each time they recite the prayer devoutly and with contrite heart. Moreover once a month they 236 July, 1960 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS may gain a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions provided they have recited the prayer daily for a month. 0n.December 14, 1959 (p. 105), the Sacred Consistorial Congregation named Cardinal Caggiano, archbishop of Buenos Aires, as military vicar of Argentina. A decree of the same congregation dated December 29, 1959 (pp. 164-65), provided for the continuation of ecclesiastical jurisdiction in the military vicariate of Colombia when the office of military vicar becomes vacant; it also assigned the proper tribunals for ecclesiastical cases of the same military vicariate. In a decree of January 5, 1960 (p. 60), the Sacred Congregation of the Holy Office placed the follow-ing anonymous volumes on the Index: Il Poema di Gesu and Il Poema dell'UomooDio (Isola del Liri: Tipografia M. Pisani). Views, News, Previews Institute Jesus Magister Brother Cecilius, S.C., who is presently stationed in Rome at the Generalate of the Brothers of the Sacred Heart, has sent the REVIEW information concerning the Institute Jesus Magister (Jesus the Teacher). The Institute, .which is now an integral part of the Lateran University, was founded by Pins XII with the purpose of providing for the intellec-tual, cultural, and religious development of teaching brothers. The foundation of' the Institute was announced in the summer of 1957; in the fall of the same year the Institute held its first academic courses°. Accordingly the academic year 1959-1960 was only the third in the history of the Institute. The president of the Institute is the rector of the Lateran" Univer-sity, who at present is Msgr. Antonio Piolanti. The vice-president and director of Jesus Magister is BrotKer Anselmo, F,S.C. The faculty for the academic year 1959-1960 was composed of twenty-six professors, nine of whom were diocesan priests, eleven were .religious 'priests, and six were brothers. During the same year ninety-five brothers attended the Institute. The brothers in attendance came from twenty-three countries and from nine different religious institutes as the following tables show: 237 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS Review for Religious Countries Represented Among the Students of Jesus Magister Number of Number of Country Students Country Students Canada 13 Mexico 3 U.S.A. 11 Chile 2 Spain 10 Nicaragua 2 Italy 9 Peru 2 Brasil 8 Ruanda 2 Australia 5 Cuba 1 France 5 Ecuador 1 Eire 5 Malay 1 Argentina 4 Portugal 1 England 4 South Africa 1 Colombia 3 Venezuela 1 Vietnam 1 Religious Institutes Among Students of Jesus Magister Institute Number of Students Brothers of Christian Schools 38 Marist Brothers 26 (Irish) Christian Brothers 11 Brothers of the Sacred Heart 7 Brothers of Mary (Marianists) 4 Brothers of Christian Instruction (Ploemel) 3 Xaverian Brothers 2 Brothers of Christian Instruction of St. Gabriel 2 Josephite Brothers of Ruanda 2 From the tables it can be seen that besides the intellectual development imparted to them by the Institute, the brothers also profit by contact with fellow brothers of other countries and institutes. At the present time the. Institute offers a four-year course. The first year of the course is chiefly devoted to Thomistic philosophy and fundamental theology; the last three years are concerned principally with dogmatic and moral theology, Sacred Scripture, ecclesiastical history, and catechetics. The courses are presently given in both English and French; other languages will be added as the need arises. At the end of two years of the course, the students are made bachelors in re-ligious sciences; and at the successful completion of the entire four-year program they are given a licentiate in religious sciences. There i~ a possibility that, as the Institute grows, an additional program leading to a doctorate in religious sciences will be added. Brothers interested in studying at the Institute must have a degree which permits them to enter a graduate faculty or a university of their own country. Moreover they are expected to have a sufficient reading knowledge of Latin to be able to handle the texts necessary for their 238 VIEWS, NEWS, PREVIEWS studies in the Institute; such texts, for example, would be the Vulgate, the works of St. Thomas, and the code of canon law. The candidate must also make a written application for admission into the Institute; with the application he must include a birth and a baptismal certificate, copies of degrees held, written authorization of his major superior, and two photographs (passport size). Auditors, that is, students not studying for a degree, are also admitted with the permission of their superiors. Finally laymen who are engaged in teaching religion on the primary or secondary level are admitted, provided they 'have the necessary quali-fications for the Institute's program. Persons interested in the Institute can obtain more information about it by writing: Ill.mus Fr. Anselmo Balocco, F.SoC. Instituto Jesus Magister Pontificia Universith Laterano Piazza S. Giovanni in Laterano, 4 Rome, Italy Christ to the World Founded three years ago, this "International Review of Apostolic Experiences" has spread to 125.countries and is contributing in a very efficacious way to the work of the apostolate among unbelievers. The aim of the review is to promote the apostolate in pagan and dechris-tianized environments by pooling apostolic experiences and making known the most fruitful apostolic efforts undertaken throughout the world. In presenting these experiences, the review stresses the method followed, the means used, the difficulties encountered and how they were overcome, the results obtained and the lessons drawn from the experience which will prevent future repetitions of the same mistakes. A sample copy of an issue dealing with the problems one indicates interest in will be sent on request by Reverend L. P. Bourassa, Circulation Manager, Christ to the World, Lungotevere dei Vallati, 1, Roma. Brothers' Newsletter: Menus and Recipes The Brothers' Newsletter reported in its November issue that Brother Herman Zaccarelli, C.S.C., has published a book on menu-planning and recipes for Catholic institutions. This is the first book ever to be written taking into account the specialized food problems of the vow of poverty, feasts, and fasts of the Church year. In the summer of 1960, Brother plans to direct the first school of culinary arts for religious at Stonehill College, North Easton, Massachusetts. He hopes to build this summer course up to a regular three-year program. For his work on the book, Brother received grants from several food com-panies serving Catholic institutions. 239 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religion,s The interesting facts and events relating to the life and training of brothers which the Newsletter contains are available without subscrip-tion fee. Write to Brother William Haas, S.J., West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana, or to Brother Walter, S.V.D., Divine Word Seminary, Techny, Illinois. )uestions ond Answers [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, S.J., pro-fessor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] 24. I was teaching a summer course to sisters from several congregations. Canonical questions on the religious life occasionally arose. One sister told me that her constitutions state that a parish convent cannot be a canonically erected religious house because at the commencement of the scholastic year the community of such a house may be composed of new members. Another sister stated that in her congregation all houses of less than four sisters are filial houses, those of four or more are canon-ically erected houses. Difficulties on obedience, according to this sister, arise in filial houses because of the fact that the one at the head of a filial house is not a real superior. To avoid this, higher superiors strive to have all houses canonically erected; and they believe that this is accomplished by the mere fact of assigning at least four religious to a house. They also believe that the'sole fact of assigning three or less sisters to a house makes it filial. My reply to both sisters was in the negative. Was I correct? A canonically erected religious house, because it is a moral person, can cease only by suppression or extinction. A moral person in the Church is of its nature perpetual. If only one member remains in it, all rights of the moral person devolve on him. A moral person and therefore a religious house becomes extinct only when it has ceased to exist, that is, has had no members, for a hundred years (c. 102)'. As a collegiate moral person, a canonically erected house must consist of at least three religious at the time of its erection. Since a moral person is of its nature perpetual, it is evident that the continued existence of a religious house does not depend on the permanent residence. 5f the religious who originally constituted the community. These may constantly change, as they do in other moral persons, for example, an institute or province. The same juridical perpetuity proves that a religious house continues to exist as such if the number of religious assigned to it after its erection becomes less than three. The superior of such a reduced religious house remains a superior in the proper sense of the word, Since he is a superior of a canonically erected house. A higher superior cannot change a canonically erected house into a filial house merely by assigning less religious to it (cf. Larraona, Commentarium Pro Religiosis, 3 [1922], 48, note 176). This 240 July, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS change demands an extinction or the formalities of a suppression and the permission to open a filial house. Neither may he change a filial house into a canonically erected house merely by assigning more religious to it. This change requires the formalities for the canonical erection of a house. Goyeneche (Quaestiones Canonicae, I, 115) anal Jone (Com-mentarium in Codicem Iuris Canonici, I, 404) deny that such formalities are necessary in this case. They maintain that the change of a filial into a canonically erected house is a mere internal change and conse-quently demands no permission of external authority (cf. Question .17). But such a change certainly and evidently implies the erection 5f a moral person. Canon 497 does not grant the right of erecting a moral person, solely on their own authority, to the superiors of any religious institute. The law on internal and external changes presupposes an existing moral person and its purpose is to determine whether the change has so altered this existing moral person as to make it a different moral person. In the opinion of Goyeneche and Jone, an exempt in-stitute could open a filial house with th.e permission of only the local ordinary; and then, merely at the will of its superiors, with no further permission of the ordinary and no permission whatever of the Holy See, could canonically erect an exempt religious house. But canon 497, § 1, demands the permission of the Holy See for the canonical erection of any exempt religious house. A house becomes a new moral person when it undergoes a formal external change (Question 18) or is moved to such a distance (Question 19) that the formalities of a new erection are necessary and are obtained. It need not be mentioned that religious owe the same reverence and submission to delegated as to ordinary authority. The ultimate source of the authority is the same and the motive of religious obedience is the same in both cases. 25. If we are able to suppress the religious house mentioned in Question 23, to whom does the property of the suppressed house belong? Unless the particular constitutions contain a different enactment, the property of a suppressed or extinct house appertains to the im-mediately higher moral person, that is, to the province or, if there are no provinces, to the institute (c. 1501). The property of a sup-pressed or extinct separated establishment already appertains to the house to which it is attached. All obligations of justice, all rights ac-quired by others, and the intentions of founders and donors are to be respected and observed. 26. Are parish school convents of sisters in fact ~anonically erected or merely filial houses? It is presupposed that the house had the antecedent requisites for a canoncially erected house at the time of its erection (cf. Question 3). If so, such convents are canonically erected religious houses unless the 241 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS Review for Religious explicit or implicit intention of the local ordinary in particular cases was merely for a filial house (cf. Questions 11-13). This follows from the fact that such convents are only exceptionally filial houses. Parish convents are termed houses in approved constitutions equally with other canonically erected houses, for example, academies, colleges, and hospitals. Their superiors are in the same way superiors in the proper sense of this word, and not mere delegates of a higher superior or another local superior. Their superiors are held to the limit of the three-year term and to two such consecutive terms in the samehouse (c. 505). These same superiors are also equally ex officio members of the provincial or general chapter. Parish convents have their own councilors and bursar or treasurer, and these are proper to canonically erected houses (c. 516, §§ 1-2; cf. Question 6). Furthermore, some constitutions make this general sense clear by stating that only the smaller houses of two or three sisters are to be filial houses (cf. Question 6). It is true that a moral person, by the positive law of the Church, should be perpetual (c. 102, § 1); but the sense is that it may not be erected for a definite time, for example, five years. It is perpetual in the sense of the law when it is erected for an indefinite time (cf. Michiels, Principia Gen-eralia de Personis in Ecclesia, 535). The particular constitutions may add requisites for a canonically erected house. If so, the petitioning of the consent for the establishment of houses is made according to such norms and the houses are canonically erected or filial according to the same norms. 27. What do you think of the enactment of our constitutions that the portress should every night carry the keys of the convent to the superioress? This enactment was contained in article 319 of the Normae of 1901, on which the constitutions of practically all lay congregations are based. However, it was not repeated in the similar norms of the Sacred Con-gregation of the Propagation of the .Faith of 1940, nor is it by any means contained in all constitutions. In some convents, the superior would be the nocturnal custodian of a sufficient number of keys. The efficiency and practicality of this practice are at once questionable. Its necessity is equally doubtful. I personally have never heard of any alarming number of attempts to break into convents at night. The doors should be securely locked at night, but it is not the custom in the United States to use locks that can be operated only by a key from inside. We may also question whether this type of lock is more secure, and a door is not the only means of entrance favored by burglars. The principal objection against the practice is the danger of fire and the fire regulations. To repeat what we have already stated on two occasions: "All doors used in connection with exits shall be so arranged as to be always readily opened from the side from which egress is made. Locks, if provided, shall not require a key to operate from the inside. Latches or other re-leasing devices to open doors shall be of simple types, the method of 242 July, 1960 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS operation of which is obvious even in darkness" (REVIEW FOR RE-LIGIOUS, 15 [1956], 284-85; 18 [1959], 165). It seems evident that all doors leading to the outside should be capable of being used as exits in case of fire; and an exit door locked from the inside, with the key in the superior's room, is a fire hazard of the first order. II. Local Superiors 28. Is a minimum age prescribed for local superiors? Every canonically erected religious house must have a local superior in the proper sense of this term. The prescriptions of canon 505 on the term of office and reappointment affect only minor local superiors. A minor local super

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B.—Stiff Hats made to Fit the Hoaa in two minutes. | Eckenrode &-* (Ramer, DEALERS IN Fpesft Beef, Vea[" Lauras Peckt Paddling, Saa« sag©8 Kfatras» Lardl, &@. Chambersburg Sired. SOI2FEQTIOI2ERY AND IGE 6REAM.| OYSTERS 1M SEASOR, NEWS DEPOT AND SUBSCRIPTION AGENCY. Main St, | 0. E. KEFZEQLSI? — BOOTS «SHOE5I GS=Satlsfaction G u a ra nteed.^Ti iVo. (5 5". Baltimore Street, GETTYSBURG, PA. ~*LEVI RELNECKER,^ DEALER IN FINE CROCERIES AND MOTIONS, O $> -o CHAMBERSBURG STREET. ADVERTISEMENTS. III INhewille Jwiiittflro. Here are some patrons of the school: Rev. Dr. Valentine, Rev. Dr. McKnight, Rev. Dr. Scholl, Rev. Dr. Lilly, Rev. Dr. Henninghausen, Rev. Dr. Holloway, Rev. Dr. Butler, Rev. Dr. Earnest, Rev. Dr. Repass, Rev. Dr. Peschau, Rev. Dr. Seip, Rev. Spieker, Rev. Dr. Euders, Rev. Dr. L,. G. Miller, Rev. Dr. Bernheim, Rev. Dr. Fox, Rev. Dr. Sadtler, Rev. Dr. Morris. Send for Catalogue. Address,, Rev. A, M. TFBRBfiiK, A, M » Nos. 16 and 18 W. German Street, BALTIMORE, Offer to the trade their large and well-selected stock of Make a specialty to have on hand everything required by Pharmacists. A complete stock can at any time be selected or wants supplied. ALONZQ L. THOMSEN,^ EAOE, WINDER, SHARP AND LEADENHALL STS., P. 0. Box 557, Baltimore, Md. I oeg to call to the attention of tlie Trade that I have re-cently added to my Plant a complete set of Drug Milling Ma-chinery of the most Improved pattern. GBORG© SMGLM, Successor to J. W. Eicholtz & Co., DEALER IN PIANOS, ORGANS, MUSIC, MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS, STRINGS, Etc. No. 21 BALTIMORE STREET, Gettysburg. 7,7!?, A temperance house. Pleasant and home-like. Teams and Guides to all points of interest on the battle-field. ■fi U.lSO.XdPZK KgWES.=S2?D &mm mmmmt, -DEALER IN-No. 127 Chambersburg St., GETTYSBURG, PA. JOHN E. PITZER, MEMBER POST 9, G. A. R. Hats, Shirts, Shoes, Ties, Umbrellas, Gloves, Satchels, Hose, (Vocket (Books, Trunks, Telescopes, Rubbers, Etc., Etc. AMOS ECKERT. (LWY H I'M GeLLyglbtefg, P&. JOHI] B, HUG2ES, PROF* THIS Hotel is situated on Main street, one square from P. and It. and W. M. R. 1?. Depots and within one-half minute's walk of the Diamond. Every room is heated, and lighted by electricity. Parlors on first and second floors. Bath and Toilet rooms on second floor, gratis to guests. Kates $1 50 to $2.50 per day. Booms without Hoard 50 cents and upward according to location. Excellent accommo-dations for 250 people. Electric cars stop at the door eveiy half hour. Livery Connected, with first-class Teams, and Battle-field Guides at Low Kates. Sinner with Drive over the Battle-field $1.35. The College Metcuty. 'VOL. in. GETTYSBURG, PA., MAY, 1895. No. 3- THE COLLEGE MERCURY, Published each month during the college year by the Students of Pennsylvania (Gettysburg) College. STAFF. Editor: HENRY E. CLARE, '95 Associate Editors: SYLVESTER C. BERGER. '95. E. A. ARMSTRONG, '97. J. EDWARD BYERS, '95. GEO. F. ABEL, '97 WILMER A. HARTMAN,'95. HORACE M. WITMAN, '95. ROSCOE C. WRIGHT, '95. Alumni Association Editor: REV. D. FRANK GARLAND, A. M , Baltimore, Md. Business Manager: HARRY D. NEWCOMER, '95. Assistant Business Manager: I. O. MOSER, '96. ",," (One volume (ten months). . . . $1.00 1ERMb-\Slngle copies, .:. .15 Payatlo in idvinco. All students are requested to hand us matter for publication. The Alumni and ex-members of the College will favor us by sending Information concerning their whereabouts or any items they may think would be Interesting for publication. All subscriptions and business matters should be addressed to the business manager. Matter intended for publication should be addressed to the Editor Address, THE COLLEGE MERCURY, Gettysburg, Pa. CONTENTS. EDITORIAL-EDITORIALS, 37 SATAN'S MORAL STRENGTH, --- 39 THE HISTORY OF LETTERS, --- 41 COLLEGE LOCALS. --- 42 ALUMNI NOTES, --- 45 ATHLETICS, - 48 SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT, 49 FRATERNITY NOTES, 49 TOWN AND SEMINARY NOTES, - 50 LITERARY SOCIETIES, - - - - . - - - 51 ODDS AND ENDS, - 52 WITH this issue of the MERCURY the old staff retires from service. While it is with a feeling of relief that we hand over the editing and managing of the paper to the new staff, yet we dare not say that the feeling is one of joy. Our relations with the MERCURY have been both close and pleasant and we regard it as a precious possession. We, therefore, sever our connection with it with a feeling of regret more than of gladness. But, although, no longer officially connected with the paper, we promise it our loyal support and help in the future. We shall always be solicitous for its prosperity and welfare. In resigning the con-trol over to the new staff we feel no fear or misgivings for we know that a better or more efficient staff could not have been elected. We only request more substantial support from the student body, that their work may be light-ened and brightened, and that their relation may be even more pleasant than ours has been THE friends of foot-ball can now breathe a little more easily. With the threatened attack from Harvard averted, foot-ball seems, for the present at least, safe. But the fears enter-tained by many for the perpetuity of the game on account of the authorities at Harvard were not, by any means, unfounded. Were a de-cided blow to be dealt the game at Harvard, all the colleges in the land would be seriously affected. As matters now stand with Yale, Princeton and the University of Pennsylvania, no more than one great game could be ex-pected annually. This would prove wholly inadequate to keep the national interest alive, and as the public interest would decline the spirit which has always characterized foot-ball in 3« THE COLLEGE MERCURY. the college world would begin to wane. The act, then, of the Harvard authorities, in reconsid-ering their former steps, can be received as "glad tidings" of the greatest moment to col-lege athletics. But whilst there is no immedi-ate danger from that source, and we have every reason to believe that the game will go on as before, unmolested, we should be wise enough to take a lesson and a warning from this circumstance. The roughness and brutality which have characterized the game in some quarters the last few years led to this action of the Harvard authorities, and joyfully as we receive the "reversed" action of the faculty, we must con-fess that there former action was not wholly un-authorized and unwarranted by the circum-stances of the case. The public and refined people demand clean foot-ball or none at all, and they will have their demands. Brutality and savageness are foreign to the game and only creep in when the nature of the players is analogous to that of brutes and savages. Foot-ball is as much a game of reason as of muscle. When muscle preponderates and reason be-comes secondary, the game is no longer fit for college men and cultured people. The day of gladiatorial combats is past. If the colleges of the land (especially the larger institutions, for with them the burden of blame lies) learn the lesson which this timely warning is so fittingly the season designed to teach, foot-ball will regain what it of interest lost last Fall, and continue to hold its wonted prestige. Its character and life depend upon the action of the colleges in their games this coming season. Let us hope for the best and do our utmost. The following comment of the Philadelphia Press on the action of the Harvard faculty will give us excellent food for thought: Clean foot-ball playing mai'ked by fair play and an absence of roughness in all matches this Fall will restore the game to favor again and give it a long lease of life, but the opposite of this course will in all probability prejudice the public and college authorities so strongly against the game that intercollegiate matches will be discarded. So it rests with college men themselves to say what the result shall be, THE recent bequest of one hundred dollars to the College by Michael Ulrich, is the kind of | a token of friendship the College likes to see. The friendship it speaks of is not of that ' 'hol-low or wordy nature," but of that noble, true) atid fruitful kind that knows self-sacrifice, Would that Gettysburg had more such friends! I Whether it is due to the business depression or a lack of interest on the part of the Luth-eran church in her institutions of learning, that Gettysburg College is so sadly forgotten | and neglected, or what, we are unable to say; but this we know that this recent bequest is I the only substantial reminder that we have had for a long time that Gettysburg has | thoughtful friends. MERCURY called "hearty co-opera-season a "°;lori- IN the last number, the upon the student body for tion" to make this base-ball ous success." Co-operation has not been wanting on the part of the students, especially when we take into consideration the scarcity of money and general depression. But while the student body has entered heartily into the team shows a decided lack and enthusiasm. The season which we hoped would open so auspici-ously for us, has opened with scarcely any-thing but disappointments and errors to our I credit. The team can not expect the College to take much interest in such an unenviable record. The MERCURY does not desire to be severe,in its criticism, but if it wishes to be a| fair exponent of student thought and senti-ment, it must at least give expression to the | general sentiment of the College on all ques-tions. The sentiment of the student body on l the base-ball question is unmistakable. It is anything but favorable to the team, for it is evident to all that a great part of the team's inability to play is directly traceable to the | THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 39 culpable indifference and laziness, which one witnesses almost every day on the field. The j indifference is further shown by the frequent absence of one or more of the players at prac-tice almost daily. • To say the least, our prac-tice has been woefully "ragged" all season, ' and until a decided improvement is made, no success will crown the feeble efforts of the team. Only hard, faithful work will make our season what we expected it to be when- it opened. Let more spirit and life be thrown into the practice and we will have better re-sults. The manager has succeeded in arrang- ! ing an excellent schedule of games. Let cap-tain and team, therefore, endeavor to make a : good showing for Gettysburg. There is still time for much improvement. SEVERAL times this present season we have been greatly disappointed and all the plans of our manager upset by the unbusinesslike ac-tion of some of our neighboring college base-ball managers in canceling dates for games, once, indeed, waiting until the eleventh hour before the date before notifying us of their fail-ure to fulfill their part of the contract. Noth-ing in all inter-collegiate athletics is more ex-asperating to a manager than this too preva-lent custom. No manager has a right to can-cel dates, unless the reasons for it are of the most urgent nature. But the frequency and apparent unconcern of some college base-ball managers in canceling games would imply an unbounded right on their part to inconveni-ence and to discommode the plans of others. Such action reflects no credit on one's college. It shows base selfishness and a most reprehen-sible spirit of meanness and should be frowned upon by all. If this custom continues with the frequency that has characterized it in the past, inter-collegiate athletics will be seriously damaged. Confidence will be lost in the promises of managers, and when mutual trust and confidence are wanting between colleges the loss will be irreparable. SATAN'S MORAL STRENGTH. [A class exercise on "Paradise Lost.' In our constant associations with men in their respective vocations we are often im-pressed with the degree of influence exerted by various individuals. Frequent^ we catch ourselves looking for the cause of this myste-rious power. The inevitable result of a care-ful search is the discovery that one's influence depends upon his conception of vice and virtue, his tendency to be governed by a sense of right and wrong, aud the vividness with which he realizes his relation to duty and obligation. In short he is distinguished by his moral strength. It is by this same distinguishing characteristic that we recognize and set apart Satan as a renowned leader among that innu-merable host of fallen spirits in the great Eng-lish Epic. So mountain-like does he appear that some have honored him as the hero of the poem. The interpretation which he puts upon duty and obligation is far different from that which prompted the loving deeds of the sympathizing Saviour of mankind. How peculiar and dread-ful Satan's influence and yet how actual ! But we can trace his despotic terrorism to the cause which developed it. Goaded on by a stinging recognition of defeat, and a desperate determination to regain his former glory and then have revenge, he proceeds in the most natural way to enlist the help of his fallen companions, and an intimation of the character of his actuating purpose is given in his first speech when he declares to Beelzebub, his fel-low in crime, that if the field be lost •'All is not lost, the unconquerable will, And study of revenge, immortal hate, And courage never to submit or yield, Aud what is else not to be overcome ; That glory never shall his wrath or might Extort from me." In this sentence his whole fiendish mind is exposed. Ambition with selfish words argues that Satan's realm should be among those shining spirits who dwell in heavenly joys, and the Archfiend resolves "with more suc-cessful hope to wage by force or guile eternal •I" THE COEEEGE MERCURY. war'' to gain the plains of Heaven. But when, by conviction, he is forced to acknowledge his exile from the celestial country, and live in the infernal regions ambition again whispers con-solingly, "Here at least We shall be free ; the Almighty hath not built Here for his envy, will not drive us hence : Here we may reign secure, and iu my choice To reign is worth ambition though in Hell; Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven." With such reasoning he decides his own fitness for ruling, and his all-absorbing purpose is never lost sight of, even in Hell's most awful gloom. Although ambition is the primal cause, yet pride too had her part. In Heaven he beheld His brightness and felt that submission and service to the Almighty did not become him. (, His office was to rule and not to pay homage to a King. Here, as always after-ward, disastrous pride brings destruction to her votaries. But she never forsakes her worshippers ; for when the last Arch-angel, defeated, has fallen through Chaos to the plains of Erebus even there "his heart distends with pride and hardening in his strength glories." And well could it. The stupendous picture which accompanies this quotation is only one of the many which show the infernal Chief as the center of a multitudinous host waiting in awful suspense to do his mandates. Notice the selfishness of Satan. This has a remarkable influence in developing his re-pulsive character. The natural outgrowth of pride, it is closely associated with it. Both work together with united strength, the one supplying what the other lacks. When the consultation was held to discover an advent-urer who would hazard a voyage in search of the new world to be inhabited by man, "None among the choice and prime Of those Heav'u-warning champions could be found So hardy as to proffer or accept Alone the dreadful voyage ; till at last Satan, whom now transcendent glory rais'd Above his fellows, with monarchal pride Conscious of highest worth" declared his willingness to go in words win-ning glory to himself. His speech shows the overpowering conceit that prompted him in undertaking so perilous a journey. He is greedy for all the words of praise his fellows bestow upon him. His self-conscious great-ness forbids a share in the enterprise. The quality of Satan's morality is the source of his strength. In his portrayal of the great demon Milton certainly lavished some of his most heroic descriptions. Not only morally but physically he is pictured as transcendently superior to his kindred in crime. The fertility of the poet's invention is manifested in repre-senting the various forms assumed by the evil Spirit ; for spirits tnay assume what form they will, and none is more careful than Satan to suit his appearance to the occasion ; to obtain servile obedience to him, he dilates himself to superhuman proportions, but to produce dis-obedience to the Almighty he is unpretentious, barely offering a suggestion. His insidious craftiness is shown by the strategem which caused the downfall of our common parents and ever involved their children in disaster and sorrow. There was on earth, but one, whom Satan's argument could not persuade. The Saviour's firm rebuke, "Get thee behind me," was the hostile arrow that put the enemy to flight. At that time he was again over-thrown. But the wily foe ever intrigues, and when one artifice fails he tries a more effective. Thus chagrined by irretrievable defeat he gives rein to envy and revenge, and allows them to run on unrestrained. What do they not overcome in their mad course? The ghastly pallid forms of unnumbered millions lie along their gory track. When the last hope of avenging himself upon God is growing fee-ble, he has by fiendish plotting devised a plan to revenge the Creator of man. In this, man is to be the victim. But even though by his subtilty and man's curiosity he conquered, yet his victory was not complete. His spite only served to augment the Creator's glory. For when by man's disobedience sin, and Satan through sin, entered into the world, then the only begotten of the Father came | among men to vanquish Satan, sin and death. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 4i Now, Satan is even defeated by man when clothed in Christian armor. Another noticeable feature of Satan is his fearfulness. He is a moral coward. Con-scious of his foul plots and scheme.? he is nat-urally haunted by his own crimes. Thus "conscience doth make cowards of us all." While their leader concealed his doubts and fears his associates often revealed theirs. Belial especially shows his misgivings for any successful combat with the King of Heaven, and "with persuasive accent" dissuades from war. But however much dread the Arch-fiend has, a desperate sense of revenge dis-places it, urging him on over all the monsters of Hell until he comes to the boundaries of the new world. We are wont to look upon Satan as strong. But while he is gigantic in form and influence among the fallen spirits yet he cannot be com-pared in strength with those loving obedient spirits in Heaven. Their strength is tenfold in its purity. His is shattered by falsehood and deceit. He cannot stand before the holy God whom he has belied. On the other hand he rises supremely glorious in the eyes of his fallen companions, and, knowing his strength, he causes his influence to grow. This con-stant growth of Satan's influence over the in-fernal spirits is remarkable. When he speaks attention holds them mute. "Ranks bend from wing to wing and half enclose him round." When he is done "millions of flam-ing swords'' fly out to confirm his words. No wonder he is proud ! No wonder ambition rules him ! But these are not the qualities of moral strength. The Champion of the sinful host is mighty in numbers, but with all the hosts of Hell at his sides he cannot face the pure in heart. The magical brightness of purity scatters the legions of darkness as the summer's sun does the the morning mist. In purity there is might. G. Z. S. '96. TEE HISTORY CF LETTERS. The development of mind, the exertion of talents, the labors of industry, are all subjects closely interwoven with the moral character of a rational and accountable being. It is a curious and interesting investigation to trace the history of man, as he emerges from a state of nature, and passes through the successive gradations, from mere animal existence, to a state of refined civilization and moral culture. And it is equally delightful to the man of let-ters to behold the effects of learning in its var-ious stages, in amending the inward state of mankind, as the refinements of luxury add to their external convenience. It is a common remark with the historian, that the discovery of the use of iron is the first step from savage to civilized life. The re-mark is just, but must be received in a limited sense. For there is an internal as well as an external history—a history ot mind as well as of matter—an intellectual civilization*, dis-tinct from the history of nations, and indepen-dent of the combinations of beauty, of figure and of color. What iron is to the animal na-ture of man, so literature is to his intellectual conditions. The former supplies him with the means of defense, enables him to overcome the weakness of his organic powers, and endows him with fictitious strength, as useful as that which nature has conferred. The latter pre-serves the acquisitions of the former, guides its operations, concentrates its usefulness, and en-ables him to avail himself of the achievements of genius struggling for prominence, or fet-tered by the restrictions of ignorance and bar-barity. The history of literature is the history of the noblest powers of man. There is a same-ness in savage life which affords but little in-terest to speculation, and confines the investi-gations of the philosopher and man of observa-tion within narrow limits. The scope of his abilities is confined and contracted. The con-struction of rude implements, the provision of the necessaries of life, the strifes, collisions and bitter feuds of hostile and ambitious chiefs, deficient in interest because deficient in inci-dents, the simple tales of love or the sombre stories of licentiousness, these form the mater- 42 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. ial of the history of nations upon which science has never beamed, nor literature shed its reno-vating rays. In the relation of these incidents there is no history of mind, no account of the progress of intellect, further than what is ob-served in the ingenuity of mechanical contriv-ances, limited by the ignorance of the proper-ties of things. But the invention of letters, preceded by the mysticism of hieroglyphic symbols, gave a new force to the world, enlarged the subjects of knowledge, and changed man from a mere an-imal to an intellectual being. The history of literature, from the invention of letters to the present day, involves all that is interesting in the history of man. To what purpose would the divine gifts of reason and speech have been conferred, unless the monuments of their achievements should have more stability than could exist, as they float on the thoughts and recollections of a single generation ? The animal nature of man might, as far as posterity is concerned, be considered the nobler because the more permanent of his being. The struct-ures which his hands have reared, though still amenable to the laws of decay, would survive the shock of ages, while no monument would exist of his immortal spirit. No recollection remains of that which distinguishes him from the inferior order ot beings. Age would suc-ceed age without witnessing any accession in the field of knowledge. Traditionary lore, like the rays of light, would vary in its import as it passed irom hand to hand, and one gen-eration could not be enriched by the acquisi-tions of its predecessor. But the invention of letters has established a means by which the gains of one age have been handed down as a rich inheritance to its success, while the lat-ter age, like the posterity of an ancient family, has reveled in the riches of its ancestors. Such are the effects of literature considered only as it enlarges the field of knowledge and gives a wider range to the exercise of the intellectual faculties. But there is another and a more interesting, because more important, view to be taken of its influence, as it operates on the moral nature of mankind. In the construction of implements of defence, in the arrangement of architectural convenience, in the pursuit of the objects of sense, man is superior to some species of the brute creation, only as his pow-ers are better adapted to mechanical exertion. The bee, beaver, ant, and other superior orders, rival the most successful efforts of man, in the construction of a habitation adapted to the respective claims of each. But they oper-ate b}^ instinct, their labors are the suggestions of necessity in conference with inventive pow-ers; and it is a curious investigation to trace the gradations from destitution to comforts, from comfort to convenience, from conveni-ence to ease, and, in its proper connection, the moral influence of each upon the character of mankind. The history of literature will abundantly show the improved forms of life, in whose ages, when the brightness of learn-ing has dispelled the clouds in the minds of men, and day has dawned upon the eyes of all, the aspen flame is eclipsed by brighter light, and is unnoticed, because it is unfavored by the advantages of contrast. Laws owe their permanency to their con-sistency; and their consistency is mainly to be attributed to a wise consideration of the ex-igencies of societ}r, deduced from the operation of cause and effect upon the human mind. When history, therefore, is silent, their de-ductions must be made from a limited view of society; and, like all conclusions drawn from various views, are likely to be erroneous. It is letters which give a tongue to history and provide it with a distinct utterance. It is let-ters which make the past a monitor to the present, and the present a guide to the future. W. E. W., '97. COLLEGE LOCALS. J. EDWARD BYERS AND E. A. ARMSTRONG, Editors. May ! Lovely May ! Serenades ! Wedding bells ! THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 43 Moonlight nights ! That pretty new suit! Spring fever is raging. "Donder and Blitzen !" "A nice day after the rain !" How about that prize (?) essay ? Coxey, "Oh you dear little things."' What's the matter with Hagerstown ? Sophomore originals—"From all such evils, [etc." Game with Dickinson postponed until May 115th. Grand calathumpian serenade to the bride | and groom. The Athletic field is fast assuming a finished appearance. A new boarding house just at the Campus j gate—handy. About twenty Wilson College girls in town ; on Thursday. Botanical and geological trips are enriching the shoemenders. Dr. M.—"Was sind Sperlinge ?" W. '97.—"A nuisance." The first appearance of the Seniors in caps and gowns was at church service on Apr. 21st. The Secretary of the Christian Endeavor So-ciety isn't the only one to whom it sounds j queer to say "Mrs. B." The "Freshies" all wear red caps now. I Why not green ? Can it be that they have out-grown their long-lasted verdancy ? Louie M., although he sings a beautiful deep j bass, is credited by good authority with being also very high-toned. Ques.—Who tied the dog to Gov's door-knob? Ans.—The same fellow who found new quarters for Dr. McKnight's horse. Dr. B. (to Hebrew class)—-"Now, Gentle-men, lay yourselves out in this Hebrew." Twice a week now the class regularly enjoys [the after dinner houf in pleasant, delightful [sleep from which they are so unwillingly . aroused by the disturbing double strike of the faithful old bell. It is evident that the class is translating very literally and must have just gotten to that commandment about obedience. Let us credit them for their attainments. First Senior.—Why are our gowns like charity ? Second Senior.—Because they hide a multi-tude of sins. Prof. B.—Now we have reached the atom, but we can accomplish nothing with the atom (Adam) alone. What else was necessary? Chappy.—'Why, after Adam, God created Eve. Prof. Himes attended the funeral of his mother-in-law in Harrisburg on last Friday the 10th inst. Ask Otis '95 to explain why a German les-son is worth $1.50. The following ten speakers for commence-ment, with the assigned subjects, were an-nounced by the faculty several weeks ago: Latin Salutatory, Richards; Valedictory, Wright; "Belief in Immortality Among the Greeks," Barbehenn; "The Proper Limits of State Control in Industry," Bell; "Our In-debtedness to Ancient Rome," Byers; "Oliver Wendell Holmes," Eckles; "Japan's Position Before the World," Maynard; "The Earth as. a Unit," Miller; "Intuitionalism in Ethics," Rietz; "United States Territorial Extension," Wert. The class-day exercises will be held this year on Wednesday evening of commencement week, instead of the accustomed Tuesday eve-ning. The program will be as follows: "Ivy Poem" E. H. Wert "Ivy Oration" W. A. Hartmari "Class Roll" '. U. E. Apple "Class History" F. M. Keffer "Class Prophecy" S. C. Burger "Class Poem" H. M. Witman "Presentation Oration" E. N. B. Erb "Mantle Oration" W. A. Kump Besides the exercises mentioned above the following will be interesting features of com-mencement week: On Sunday morning, June 16, Dr. L. E. Albert will deliver the Baccalaureate sermon. In the evening Dr. Theodore Cuyler, of New York, will make an address before the Y. M. C. A. We were very, fortunate in securing Dr. Cuyler, and his coming is much appreci-ated by the students. Interesting tennis tournaments, both of ath-letic associations and fraternities, will be pla}'ed off on Monday and Tuesday. 44 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. Glee, Banjo and Mandolin Clubs of College will give an entertainment in Brua Chapel on Tuesday evening. The annual Junior Oratorical Contest be-tween the two societies will be held on Wed-nesday evening, while in the afternoon field sports on the campus will entertain very de-lightfully all visitors. On Wednesday evening, H. M. Clabaugh, Esq., of Baltimore, will address the Alumni Association in Brua Chapel. President's reception on Thursday evening, in Recitation Hall. Dr. B. in Roman Antiquity to Mr. S. '97.— "Did the ancient boys and girls go to school together ?'' Mr. S.—"Yes sir, because Romulus and Remus went together, Plutarch says." The propensity of the professors for making puns is shown by Prof. H. who admonishes Mr. M., '97, to make the character of "Miles Stand-ish" "stand" out in his speech. Pearlie has been steadily improving since his introduction to Gettysburg's "400." His aspirations are much more noble and elevating, so he tells us. But we w'ere surprised, almost shocked, to find him one morning occupying Dr. Baugher's chair in the class room, and es-saying to teach the "Soliloquy of Socrates." Take care, Pearlie ! Don't be too hasty and spoil all the promising improvements by any such act of indiscretion. The 63d Annual Catalogue of the College for year 1894-'95 was issued recently. The publication was in charge of Prof. Himes. Besides the usual cuts of College buildings and other matters pertaining to the College, the number contains a full list of the Alumni, both living and dead, with their proper ad-dresses. It is the purpose to have such a list published every five years. This feature will be of much interest and value to all Alumni and other interested persons. The attendance roll for present year is large, giving Graduate Students, 16 ; Seniors, 33 ; Juniors, 22 ; Soph-omores, 38 ; Freshmen, 41 ; Preparatory, 61— total 217. Man}' new features have been in-troduced into the catalogue, and these, with the excellent style and appearance, make it a very desirable number. • On Tuesday the 7th inst., the Senior Class accompanied by Dr. Breidenbaugh made a short geological excursion into the upper end of this county. Many interesting points were visited and geology of the most practical kind was learned and enjoyed by all. The trip over the mountain by Monterey was very pleasant and somewhat adventuresome. All returned in the evening delighted and benefited by the day's outing. One of the finest plays of the season was made at Hagerstown by Stimmel, ably sec-onded by Richardson. How the Sophs, do slander those old Ro-mans ! One accused them of "inventing on-ions" and another said they made their beds so high that they got into them by means of a derrick. On the 23rd of April Dr. Billheimer, of the Seminary, gave a Very interesting illustrated lecture on the Holy Land. The lecture was the outgrowth of a trip taken by the Doctor some years ago, and the illustrations repre-sented the different places visited by him. The proceeds of the lecture were devoted to the work in the Cold Springs mission, in which Dr. Billheimer, as well as the rest of the fac-ulty and students of the Seminar, is very much interested. When Dr. N. heard that a lawn festival was to be held on the campus, his first question was : "What are they going to have to eat?" Some one, knowing his fondness for the fruit, answered that peanuts were to be. the principal attraction. "Oh," said the Dr., "I thought if they were going to have chicken I'd have to lock up what are left of mine.'' The Swedish Quartette, accompanied by Miss Vida Skoog, pianist, and Miss Jose Bar-den, gave a very enjoyable entertainment in Brua Chapel on the evening of May 3d. The concert was for the benefit of the Athletic Field Fund. After the concert the Quartette held an impromptu reception at the Eagle, which was also greatly enjoyed by the boys. On Wednesday, April 24th, the wedding of Miss Mary Livingston McKnight, daughter of Rev. Dr. H. W. McKnight, President of the College, and Rev. Luther Scott Black, took place in Christ Lutheran Church, of which the groom is pastor. The bride's father, assisted by his son-in-law, Rev. Luther E. DeYoe, of Harrisburg, performed the ceremony. The church was very tastefully decorated with palms and flowers. The mellow strains of music from the new pipe organ served to entertain the numerous friends of the nuptial party until the ceremony began. The church THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 45 was very comfortably filled. The college boys responded to a man, and filled their portion of the church well. It was an excellent occasion for the Seniors to appear en masse in their newly purchased gowns, and they hailed the occasion with joy. Shortly after 12 o'clock, noon, the six bridesmaids entered the church to the notes of'Lohengrin, proceeded up the right aisle, crossed the church and came down the left aisle to meet the bride. The brides-maids separated, and the six ushers passed between them to the chancel. The brides-maids followed. Then came the maid of honor and finally, the bride with her mother. The ministers, the page, Philip Bikle, carrying the wedding ring on a white satin cushion, and the groom, with his best man, Dr. Ross Black, of Hanover, moved up the right aisle, the bride and groom meeting before the altar. The four ribbon girls were members of the bride's Sunday-school class. The bridesmaids were attired in white organdie gowns, trimmed with yellow ribbon, the wedding colors, and wore hats of white chiffon, trimmed with yel-low verbenias and white aigrettes. The bride's gown was of white satin, trimmed with lace. She wore a long veil and carried a small book, from which the service was read. The maid of honor wore a gown of yellow silk. The ushers wore cutaway coats and carried black derby hats. After partaking of a wedding breakfast, the bride and groom started on their bridal trip. The MERCURY extends its con-gratulations. Dr. MeKnight is trying to arrange an ex-cursion to Gettysburg for the General Synod during its coming meeting at Hagerstown, Md. Y. M. C. A. NOTES. A convention of the presidents of the Young- Men's Christian Associations in the colleges and schools of this state was held at Bucknell University, Lewisburg, Pa., April 18-21. Nearly forty presidents and representatives were present. The meetings were led by Gilbert Beaver, John R. Mott, C. E. Hurl-burt, S. M. Bard and Hugh Beaver. Much stress was laid on personal work, the fall cam-paign for new students, the Bible study de-partment, and the missionary department, as important phases of the Y. M. C. A. work. No one could be present at these meetings without receiving great spiritual benefit. At a personal purity meeting for the students of Bucknell University, held Sunday afternoon, about thirty men requested prayer that the)' I might overcome besetting sins. The president of our association, H. E. Glazier, was sent as delegate to this convention. The Harrisburg District of the Young Men's Christian Association is to hold its seventh annual convention at Steelton, Pa., May 3-5. We expect to send several delegates from our association. Mr. C. F. Kloss, a former president of our association, has lately spent a few days with us. Mr. Kloss is a very warm friend of the Y. M. C. A., and at one of our meetings spoke of the 'spiritual benefit which necessarily re-sults from being a devoted member. At the last business meeting of the Y. M. C. A., the lecture course committee, for the season of 1895, submitted its report. The re-port was a very gratifying one, showing that the association has realized $85.44 over and above all expenditures. The committee is to be commended for its faithful and energetic work. The above amount will be added to our Y. M. C. A. building fund. ALUwiNl. GEO. F. ABEL, Editor. '52. The late Dr. Reuben Hill left an estate of $20,000. His wife has a life interest in the same, after which all goes to the mission so-cieties of the General Council, and to Susque-hanna University, at Selinsgrove, Pa. '57. Rev. D. M. Gilbert, D, D., of Harris-burg, Pa., addressed a meeting of the Lutheran Social Union, of Philadelphia, April 23d, 1895- '57. Rev. D. A. Bikle, D. D., of King's Mountain, N. C, will deliver the next Bac-calaureate address before the students of Devoir College, N. C. '57. Rev. J. A. Earnest, D. D., will deliver this year's Holman lecture to the students of our Theological Seminary. The lecture will be on the eighth article of the Augsburg Con-fession, and will be delivered the latter part of this month. '63. The Rev. E. J. Wolf delivered the sermon at the dedication of St. Mary's Luth-eran church, Silver Run, Md., on Sunday, May 12th. '64. E. W. Meisenhelder, M. D., is one of the leading physicians, not only of York, but 46 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. Richard, D. D., of an invitation to de-before the Y. M. C. on June gth. Dr. of Virginia, was a also of Pennsylvania. He has been successful with many patients to whom experts have failed to give relief. '68. Rev. Prof. J. W. Gettysburg, has accepted liver the annual address A. of Roanoke College, Richard, who is a native student of Roanoke in 1861-62, but the war interrupted his course of study there, and he was graduated at Gettysburg. '68. Dr. J. W. Hay, of Harrisburg, was here with his wife and daughter to attend the wedding of his niece, Miss Mary McKnight. '69. Revs. M. E- Heisler and C.W. Heisler, ' 80, have suffered the loss of their father at an advanced age. The MERCURY extends its sympathy to them in their sorrow. '70. Rev. David W. Cassat has removed from Vail, Iowa, where he has served the Presbyterian Church so successfully for eight or ten years. We are sorry that we cannot give his present address. '71. Rev. Dr. W. H. Dunbar will deliver the address at the dedication of the Seminary. The doctor and his family were kindly given an after-Easter rest, which they spent at the Chalfonte, Cape May, N. J. '72. Judge S. McC. Swope will deliver the Memorial Day oration at York Springs, Pa. '72. Rev. John Brubaker, of Schellsburgh, Pa., will take a trip to Europe this summer, on the "Observer Pilgrimage." '72. Rev. Geo. W. Fortney, of Wurtem-berg, N. Y., has been unanimously elected pastor of the Turbotville charge in Northum-berland county, Pa. '72. Rev. D. M. Moser is succeeding well at Schuylkill Haven, Pa., but we are sorry to learn that his wife and son are not in good health. '73. Rev. E. H. Eeisenring, Chambersburg, was elected Grand Regent of the Royal Ar-canum at the convention of the Grand Council held in Reading, May 9. '73. Rev. T. J. Yost and family were in town last week, on their way to his new pastor-ate at Cumberland, Md. They visited the college, in which he is very much interested. His new church will be finished and ready for dedication in a month or two. '74. The term of the Rev. C. M. Stock, of Hanover, Pa., as Eminent Commander of the York Commandery, No. 2 Knights Templar, has just ended. As a token of appreciation a fine gold Past Commander's badge was pre-sented to him by the Commandery. '75. Rev. E. D. Weigle, D. D., will have an article in the J11I3' Lutheran Qua?1erly, on "Providence and Epidemics." Dr. Weigle has received from one of his parishioners, an excellent life sized portrait in oil of Mrs. Weigle. '77. A lot has been secured for a second English Lutheran church in Los Angeles, Cal. A chapel is to be erected thereon this summer. Rev. M. H. Stine is greatly interested in the work there. '77. Rev. W. L- Seabrook has received a unanimous call to the Lutheran church in Winchester, Va. '77. Rev. C. S. Trump spent his after Easter vacation in visiting some of our West-ern cities. '77. Dr. W. R. Hoch will read a paper be-fore the State Medical Society, at its meeting this month in Chambersburg. We learn with pleasure that he expects soon to visit Gettys-burg and his Alma Mater. He is one of the most active members of the Executive Com-mittee of the Philadelphia Alumni Association. '80. David McConaughy, Jr., who organ-ized the Y. M. C. A. at Madras, India, is ex-pected home in a week or so. '80. The Lutheran Qua) terly for April con-tains an article by Rev. C. W. Heisler, pastor of St. Paul's Lutheran church, Denver, Col. The article discusses the question as to the exact time of the Crucifixion, and is a valuable monograph on the question which it discusses. '80. Rev. M. F. Troxell, pastor of Grace church, Springfield, Ills., and state vice-presi-dent of the Illinois Y. P. S. C. E., is on the program of the southern district young peo-ple's convention at Cairo, Ills., April 2o-22d, to speak on Christian Citizenship, and to lead the closing consecration service. '82. Frank E. Colvin, Esq., of Bedford, Pa., is law partner of Mr. Reynolds, Assistant Secretary of the Interior; he is doing a large business, is enterprising and active. Mr. Colvin is rendering important service to his Alma Mater by promoting her interests in his town and county. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 47 '83. Rev. H. L. Yarger, lately of Braddock, Pa., has been elected as field secretary of our Church Extension Board. He is now taking a two months' tour through the West, in the interest of his work. '86. Christian Gosh, Esq., of Wichita, Kan-sas, who suffered with othei's during the busi-ness depression, is now enjoying great success in his profession. '86. E. E. DeYoe, of Harrisburg, spent his usual after Easter vacation here. On Easter he received 109 new members into his church, which makes nearly 500 in less than : four years. '87. Rev. Herbert Alleman visited Gettys-burg at the wedding of Miss McKnight and Mr. Black. He is meeting with success in his work at Chambersburg. '88. Rev. Eeander Goetz visited Gettysburg the week after Easter. We learn that he is successful with his mission at Williamsport and is very much encouraged. '88. Rev. Luther S. Black, pastor of Christ Lutheran church, Gettysburg, was married to Miss Mary McKnight, April 25th, 1895. The ceremony was performed by the bride's father, President McKnight, assisted by her brother-in- law, Rev. Luther E. DeYoe, of Harrisburg. The bride was given away by her mother. The ceremony was a very impressive one and was performed with the ring. Rev. and Mrs. Black returned from their bridal trip May 3rd. '89, Rev. D. S. Hoover has resigned the pastorate of Lutherville, Md., to take effect on the 1st of June. '90. The Luthej-ati Observer of April 26th, contains an interesting article on "District Work," by Rev. U. E. Yeiser. '90. Salem congregation at New Bethlehem, Pa., presented their pastor, Rev. William J. Bucher, with a gold watch at Easter. St. John's, at the same time, presented him with an office chair. '90. Rev. L. T. Snyder, of Orrstown, Pa., who is the secretary of the Cumberland Val-ley Conference, is very sick with pneumonia. He has not been able to fill his pulpits for sev-eral weeks. '91. Rev. A. Pohlman, M. D., the mission-ary- elect of the General Synod to Africa, has taken up his residence for a year's hospital practice in the Maryland General Hospital, at the corner ot Linden Avenue and Madison Street, Baltimore, Md. Mr. Pohlman will fit himself for a practical medical misionary and will be an invaluable addition to the working force at Muhlenberg, Africa. '91. William Hersh, Esq., of Gettysburg, has accepted the invitation of the Fairfield Post to deliver the Memorial Day oration at that place. '92. Schmucker Duncan has returned to Yale for a brief period of study. '93. Two members of the Middle class of Seminary, W. F. Bare and L. M. F. Myers, are under appointment of the Home Mission Board to work up the interests of the church in Oklahoma. They start for the field about May 15th, to work for the summer. The place is said to be a favorable one for the or-ganization of Lutheran churches. '93. We received an invitation from Mr. John Hay Kuhns to attend the annual exhibi-tion of the "Society of Electrical Engineers" of the University of Nebraska. '93. Mr. J. C. Grimes preached two sermons at the Memorial Lutheran church at Harris-burg recently. '93. Nr. Niels L. J. Grou has returned to Denmark, as a citizen of the U. S., for an ex-tended trip through Denmark, Norway, Swe-den and Lapland, for the purpose of gathering material for an illustrated lecture to be deliv-ered in America upon his return. During the month of August he expects to attend the World's Peace Congress, which is to be held in Luxemburg. Mr. Gron graduated from Harvard last year, and the Boston papers make him a graduate of the University of Pennsylvania in '93. '93. Young architects in the universities and schools of design throughout the country have recently been contestants for awards from the Society of Beaux Arts Architects of New York. Among the many contestants, an award of special merit was made to George C. Baum, '93, of the University of Pennsylvania, the son of Rev. Dr. Wm. M. Baum, the honored pastor of St. Matthew's. He has also recently secured a similar award in a class competition in the Pennsylvania University. '93. Marion J. Kline is off on a trip of one or two months to canvass for students. '93. Mr. J. F. Kempfer spent a few days in 48 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. town recently, then left for Beaver Springs, Snyder comity, Pa. '94. Chas. F. Kloss came to town on the 20th ult. and stayed several days. He is still traveling for E. A. Wright & Co., Philadel-phia, and is doing well. '94. Mr. R. E. Miller spent a few days at College, two weeks ago, visiting his old friends. ATHLETICS. IIOKACE M. WITMAN, Editor. It has at last been found that Harrisburg is unavailable for the State inter-collegiate ath-letic meet. The event will now take place at State College the latter part of the present month. The new athletic field is nearing completion. The rough filling and grading has all been done and it only remains yet to put the top soil on. It is hoped to use the field for the athletic events of Commencement week, par-ticularly for the base-ball game with York, Tuesday of that week. The tennis tournament undertaken by Le-high has finally been abandoned. The col-leges did not respond as they should have. It should be tried again, at any rate. The base-ball team should have Dr. Nixon work out a handy reference book containing the dimensions of all sized curves. This might, perhaps, be a remedy for the club's weakness at the bat. It would only* require a little practice. GETTYSBURG VS. NEW WINDSOR. Score: 10—-o. The game with New Windsor College on our home grounds, Saturday, April 20th, re-sulted in a decided victory for Gettysburg, who, not satisfied with defeating them, pre-vented their opponents from scoring during the nine innings. Maybe, the unlooked for de-feat of Gettysburg by State College, on the 13th, had something to do with the onslaught of the home team. The fielding of Slingluff and the base running of Cross were features. The batter}' work of Whitehill and Myers is worthy of mention. The home team batted hard and fielded well. Reefer's catch of a dif-ficult fly ball over third base called forth great applause. Tate's throwing to the bases was perfect. Stimmel pitched a masterly game, striking out 16 men. He had perfect control of the ball and kept the hits of the visitors well scattered. Following is the score : GETTYSlirKG. R H. O. A. E. I.eisenring, IF Shecly, lb 3 4 10 Keefer, 3b 241 Tate, c 2 3 12 Richardson, cf 000 Stimmel, p 1 I o Gilbert. 2b 014 Hartzell, rf 000 Eckels, ss 1 1 o Totals 10 16 27 12 NEW WINDSOR. R. H. O. A. E. Nichodemus, lb. o 1 9 0 0 Slingluff, rf o 0000 Whitehill, p 00130 Ecker, 3b o o 1 1 1 Cross, 2b 02222 West, ss 00021 Davis, If o o o o 1 J. Myers, cf o 1 1 1 3 E- Myers, c 0 o '9 01 Totals o 4 24 9 INNINGS. Gettysburg 22032100 x—10 New "Windsor 00000000 0— 0 Earned runs—Gettysburg. 5. Two-base hits—I,eisenring, Tate. Stolen bases—Gettysburg, 17. Double plays—Keefer and Gilhert. Bases on balls—By Whitehill, 8. Hit by pitched ball—Slingluff. Struck out—By Stimmel, 16; by Whitehill 8. Passed balls—Tate, 1; Myers, 2. Time of game—1.45. Umpire —Kuendig. HAGERSTOWN VS GETTYSBURG. Score: 9—o. Thursday, April 25th, the college team played the strong Hagerstown club on the lat-ter's grounds. The simple explanation of the defeat lies, apparently, in the almost entire in-ability of our men to connect with the ball. In the third inning an unfortunate accident occurred which deprived the team of the valu-able services of Stimmel. In some manner or other he sprained his arm so badly as to lose entire control of it. His absence was very much missed, but the game had already been lost. Gilbert replaced him and did excellent work. Considering the fact that he had not pitched at all this season, he deserves a great deal of credit. Besides this, he. split his hand in catching a liner in the pitcher's box, so that, he was hardly able to grasp the ball. He also played a splendid game at second. According to the Hagerstown papers the game was decidedly more interesting than the score would seem to indicate. "The three noticable features of the contest," says the Globe, "were, a fine da}', a good attendance and a well-played game. Both teams were liberally applauded when difficult plays were made, and enthusiasm waxed from the start." The Herald says: "The game abounded in good catches, but the most remarkable one was made by Richardson, in the ninth inning, of a high fly, that almost reached the fence. It scraped the sky way over the little fielder's head, but he turned and ran for it, nabbing the descending sphere with his one hand, at the same time rolling on the ground. Great THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 49 and continued applause greeted his phenome-nal catch. It was one of the prettiest within the memory of local enthusiasts, and Richard-son was given an ovation when he came in to the bench." Tate also made a fine catch of a foul fly, jumping over the players' bench to take it. The whole Hagerstown team acquitted them-selves well, but the pitching of Lipp was the main and the grave feature. The Herald says further: "The college boys were very quiet, hardly uttering a word while the game was in progress. The coachers' lines were silent, and not one kick was raised. They were gentlemanly and orderly, and made a splendid impression. Young ladies from Kee-Mar occupied rear seats in the grand stand, and several times uttered the Gettys-burg College yell as the visitors came in to the bat. The boys gallantly doffed their caps each time in recognition." The score and summary follow : HAGERSTOWN. R. H. O. Shank, cf 012 Rainey, lb I 2 10 Gochen'r, 2b 125 Lipp, p 120 Tate, 3b 2 1 1 Gillam, If 201 Carp'nt'r, rf 220 Scharf, ss 030 Graffius, c 008 Totals 9 13 27 12 GETTYSBURG. R. H. O. A. Leisenring, If 0140 Sheely, lb o o 15 1 Keefer, 3b 0230 Tate, c 0060 Richardson; cf 0020 ♦Stimmel, p o 1 1 3 ♦Gilbert, 2b 0043 Hartzell, rf 0000 Eckles, ss o o o 1 White, 2b 0020 Totals. o 4 27 8 6 *In the third inning Stimmel retired from the box; Gilbert went into the box from second, and White took Gilbert's place. INNINGS. 3 o 00600 0—9 o—o Hagerstown o , Gettysburg o SUMMARY. Earned runs—Hagerstown, 3. Bases on balls—Stimel, 1; Gil-bert, 2. Struck out—By Lipp, 5: by Gilbert, 3; by Stimmel, I. Double plays—Tate and Gochenour. Stolen bases—Shank, 3; Lipp, 1; Tate. 1. Time—1.35. Umpire- Pittinger. SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT. provides sufficient instruction to meet the re-quirements in Chemistry and Physics, and in order to bring the study of Anatomy and I Physiology up to the new conditions, Dr. I Stahley will greatly extend the instruction in these branches. Increased facilities for the study of these important subjects will be at once provided. This new arrangement will be very favor-able to our students who have the profession of medicine in view. The college course and the medical course will thus be advantageously merged and a year's time will be saved. The study of Anatomy and Physiology will prob-ably be placed on the elective list for the Junior and Senior years. The alumni and patrons of the College will no doubt be gratified to learn of a proposition which has just been made by the authorities of the Jefferson Medical College of Philadelphia, by which our graduates in.the Arts or Science departments, who present evidence that they have, while at college, taken courses in Anat-omy, Physiology, Chemistry and Physics, will be admitted without examination to the second year of Jefferson's newly established four years' course. This generous proposition will no doubt be accepted. Our curriculum already FRATERNITY NOTES. WILMER A. HARTMAN, Editor. PHI KAPPA PSI. Bro. Smith, '63, spent a few days in town last week. Bros. Carty and Keffer accompanied the ball team on its recent trip to Hagerstown. Bro. Reitzell, '96, attended the fraternity convention held at Ithaca, N. Y., last month". He was very much pleased with the Cornell College spirit. Bro. Whitman, '95, will be one of the speakers at the Class Day exercises. ALPHA TAU OMEGA. Bro. Melvyn P. Buck, '97, was initiated into the fraternity on the night of May 4th. Bro. Chas. G. Bikle, of the Senior class in the Seminary, preached at Harrisburg, Pa., on Sunday, May 5th. Bishop John H. Vincent, Worthy Grand Chaplain of the Fraternity, spent a day here recently, taking in the Battle-field. Bro. Michler, '97, spent a few days recently in Harrisburg, Pa." Bros. Percy and Ira Hoover, '95, spent Sun-day, May 12th, at home. Bro. Franklin Menges, Ph. D., spent Sun-day, May 12th, at Areudtsville, as the guest of Bro. Henry A. Spangler, '89. 50 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. Bro. George A. Kyner, '89, of Chambers-burg, Pa., spent a day here recently. PHI GAMMA DELTA. Bros. H. S. McKnight, '70; H. B. Wile, '77 ; L. E. DeYoe, '86, and H. C. Alleman, '87, were in Gettysburg attending the Black- McKnight wedding. Bro. C. H. Huber filled the pulpit of Trinity Lutheran church, Chambersburg, Sunday, April 28, during the absence of the pastor, H. C. Alleman. Bro. S. B. Martin, '90, who graduated re-cently from the Yale Law School, passed the best examination of any candidate who ever applied for admission to the Connecticut bar. Bro. Martin is engaged in active practice in New Haven. Bro. John Clark Ridpath, Alpha, the emi-nent American historian, has now in press a new work called "The Five Races of Man-kind." Bro. H. L. Baugher, D. D., preached in the First Presbyterian church, York, Sunday,' May 5. Bro. J. B. Markward, '91, preached in St. Luke's Lutheran church, Baltimore, Md., Sunday, May 5. . Bro. D. Frank Garland was a welcome vis-itor in Gettysburg, recently. Bro. Fite attended the U. of P. "Mask and Wig" performance in Philadelphia, April 19. SIGMA CHI. Bro. Luther A. Burrell, '74, of Sharon, Pa., a member of the House of Representatives at Harrisburg, paid the Chapter a welcome visit on Saturday, May 4th. The Chapter is at present devising plans for the construction of a gravel walk from the College Campus to the Chapter House. We expect to have it fully completed before Com-mencement, and hope many of our Alumni will be here then to make use of it. TOWN AND SEWHNARY NOTES. S. C. BKKGER, Editor. TOWN. Major Richardson, the newly appointed Bat-tlefield Commissioner, is expected here about the 15th inst. A. O. Samuel, a Persian minister, recently spent several days in Gettysburg. During his stay here he made addresses in several of the churches on the "Customs and Manners of Persia." He appeared in his native costume and sang several hymns in Persian tone. Rev. Dr. E. J. Wolf delivered the sermon at the dedication of St. Mary's Lutheran church, Silver Run, Maryland, on Sunday, May 12th. Rev. L. L. Sieber, who formally resided in Lewisburg, where he was pastor of the Luth-eran church, has removed with his family to Gettysburg. Mr. Sieber will devote his time to evangelistic work, in which he has been very successful. Monday, May 7th, about twenty young ladies of the Senior class of Wilson College, Chambersburg, were here viewing the Battle-field. Thursday evening, May 9th, a service of Gospel Song was given by Prof, and Mrs. Lowe, of Philedelphia, in St. James church. The service was enjoyed exceedingly by the large audience present. On Friday evening they gave the "Life of Christ Illustrated in Picture and Song." Rev. Chas. W. Baker, whose health re-quires a change of climate, will remove to Gettysburg with his family in the near future. Rev. Father Henry Crist, of Lock Haven, has been appointed permanent rector of St. Francis Xavier church. He took formal charge of his congregation Sunday* May 5th, and created quite a favorable impression. Judge S. McC. Swope will deliver the Me-morial Day oration at York Springs. The name ot the McClellan House has been changed to Hotel Gettysburg. Work on the power house is now being pushed. The workers on the brown stone are at work, and the carpenters are getting the heavy rafters for the roof in position. Four observation towers, two 75 and two 60 feet high, will be erected on the battlefield. They are to be built of iron and steel, with handsome open work. Two have been located, one on the ridge near the Wheatfield avenue, and one on Round Top. These graceful structures will serve to enhance the pleasure of visitors. SEMINARY. Rev. Geo. Beiswanger, of the Senior class of THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 5i Seminary, has received an appointment from the Home Mission Board to work up a Mission in North-West Baltimore. There is no organ-ization at present, but the prospects are good. He will begin his work about the 1st of June. The grounds around the new building and Dr. Richard's house have received the final grading, and have been sown with grass seed. The general appearance is vastly improved over what it has been at any time heretofore. The memorial windows in the new Semi-nary building have all been put in place. They have been greatly admired for their beauty and tastefulness by all who have seen them. Two of the windows in the rear of the chapel are dedicated respectively to Dr. M. Valentine and Dr. C. A. Hay. Fire escapes, three in number, have been .placed on the Seminary building. A memorial tablet-has also been erected to Dr. Schmucker. Rev. E. E. Schantz, of the Senior class, has received and accepted the unanimous call which was tendered him by the charge at New ■ Freedom. Mr. Schantz will enter upon his duties in June, immediately after graduation. Rev. Prof. J. W. Richard, D. D., has ac-cepted an invitation to deliver the annual ad-dress before the Y. M. C. A. of Roanoke Col-lege, on June oth. Rev. John Bowers preached in the Presby-terian Church Sunday evening, May 12th. Rev. C. F. Jacobs preached in Steelton, Pa., May 12th. Rev. W. H. Nicholas preached in Wood-bury, Md., Sunday, May 12. The latest improved gas fixtures are being placed in the Seminary buildings and in the Professors' houses. A cement walk is being laid around the new Seminary building. The memorial tablets of Luther and Mel-anchthon, presented by the Conrad Bros., is a beautiful adornment to the new "building. Dr. Richard and wife will be "at home" for Seminarians Friday evening, May 17. Rev. G. J. M. Ketner preached in Middle-town, Pa., Sunday, May 12. Quite a number of the Seminarians attended the dedication of the Cold Spring's Mission church Sunday, Apr. 21st. The Seminary Quartet furnished part of the music for the oc-casion. The Seminarians, Revs. Guiuey and Myers, who have worked so indefatigably in the promotion of this cause deserve not only great credit for their noble efforts and glorious results, but also the thanks of the entire county. If not rewarded at once for their labors, in due time they shall receive their deserts. The venerable Dr. Morris has been deliver-ing a course of lectures on pulpit elocution the last few weeks to the Seminarians. LITERARY SOCIETIES. ROSCOE C. WRIGHT, Editor. Gettysburg was creditably represented in the Inter-Collegiate Oratorical contest which was held at Lancaster on the 26th of last month. Though we failed to secure any of the prizes, the press of the city made mention of Mr. Rump's oration in very complimentary terms. The subject of his oration was "De-feated Victors," an abstract of which we copy from the Lancaster New Era: "It was the orator's intention to show the beauty and power of the lowly and humble, and the lofty purpose they fulfil in life. He drew a strong comparison, in opening, of a spectator standing on a wharf comparing the vessels as they sail seaward, the magnificent ocean steamer, and the tug, with blackened and scarred hull, which follows in her wake, and followed it out in reverting to the pages of history, bright with the records of her illustri-ous sons. 'But,' he said, 'it is not for the strong and mighty that I raise my voice to-night. The beauty and power of the lowly is superior to the great and mighty. They are those whose brows are never crowned with victors' laurels, who must overcome obstacles and surmount difficulties, whom no one pities, with whom no one weeps.' Here he drew the sad picture of Napoleon's life at St. Helena, a striking case in point. Continuing, he said there are men in workshops, in the fields and behind counters whose ethics are truer and nobler than those who wield the sceptre's sway. They do right because it is right. They recognize their obligations to themselves, their State and their God. They are the em-bodiment of loyalty to duty and fixity of pur-pose. They, are as ships that sail from sunny isles but never come to shore.'' 52 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. Both Societies have added many new and valuable books to their libraries. The library fund, however, is not as large as it should be. While provision is made from time to time for increasing the usefulness of the College, the library fund is apparently forgotten. In re-membering the needs of the College, we trust that the Alumni and friends of the institution will not overlook the need of an increased en-dowment for this purpose. Before the next issue of the MERCURY the Societies will have selected their representa-tives for the Junior Oratorical Contest which will be held on Wednesday morning of Com-mencement Week. Loyalty to his Society as well as gratitude to the donor of the prize should be incentives to each Junior to make careful preparation for, and to participate in, the preliminary contests. We hope that greater interest will be taken in this matter than has been manifested in previous years, and that each Jnnior will feel it his duty to prepare for the contest. There is no better time than the present for under classmen and Preparatorians to join one of the Literary Societies. By identifying your-selves with the Societies before the close of the term, you will be ready to enter upon this de-partment of your College work at the opening of College next September. PHRENA. The following members of the MERCURY staff have been elected for the ensuing year: Business Manager, W. G. Brubaker, '96; Asso. Eds., H. E. Glazier, '96, W. C. Spayde, '96; H. D. Shinier, '96, H. W. Bikle, '97. On Friday evening, April 19, the following officers were chosen: Pres., Leidich, '95; V. Pres., Spayde, '96; Rec. Sec, Stahl, '97; Chaplain, Shinier, '97; Asst. Libra., Stockslager, '97; Critics, Bell, '95, Hartman, '95, Shinier, '96, Brubaker, "96; Monitor, Shinier. We are glad to announce that the portrait of Dr. Billheimer, of the Seminary, will soon be added to those already adorning the walls of Phrena Hall. The portraits of Drs. Valen-tine, Wolf and Richard were presented to the Society some 3'ears since, and now, through the kindness of Dr. Billheimer, we take a par-donable pride in the fact that the whole Semi-nary Faculty will be represented. These por-traits, together with those of Drs. Baugherand Bikle of the College, make a collection of which any Literary Society may be justly proud. C. B. Kephart, '98, E. W. Meisenhelder, '98, and J. E. Meisenhelder, '97, have been received into membership. PHILO. Philo's representatives on THE MERCURY staff are as follows: Ed.-in-Chief, D. E. Rice, '96; Asst. Business Manager, E. A. Arm-strong, '97; Asso. Eds., Edna Mae Loornis, '96; G. Z. Stup, '96; W. E. Wheeler, '97. H. D. Newcomer, '95, was recently elected president of the society, vice Feldmann, re-signed. The following special programme will be given in Philo Hall, May 24th. SUBJECT—MIETON. Short Biographical Sketch, - WHEELER. Oration—"Milton." -_-____- ABEL. Essay—"Milton's Poetic Genius," --- RICE. Oration—"Milton's Political Career," - BROSIUS Essay—"Ode to the Nativity," - MCCLEAN. Rec—From "Areopagitica," . - AUKERMAN. «",,, / Relation Between Paradise Lost 1 " "" EsSay_ J and the Homeric Epics. } " EISENHAHT. Essay—"Council of Pandemonium," - - Miss LOOMIS. Rec.—Selection from "Paradise Lost," - - - STUP. Music, both vocal and instrumental will add to the entertainment. ODDS AND E^lDS. "THE PURP'S SOLILOQUY." "I may be yaller, And covered with fleas, But my pants, thank the Lord, Don't bag at the knees."—Ex. THE college magazine is the criterion of the institution where it is published, and the col-lege must share with the editors either the glory of success or the shame of failure.—The Bates Student. He wrote a verse on "Trilby," To keep up with the fad; The editor declined it Because its feet were bad.—Ex. A movement is on foot to start an athletic library at Harvard. THE COLLEGE MERCURY. 53 SPIUNC}. Now bright the days for me have dawned, And gay my heart doth leap, My worry's o'er, and in the night Most peacefully I sleep. For on the patches in my pants No mortal eye shall frown, They will be fully hidden when I wear the cap and gown.— Widow. The students of the Syracuse University have framed resolutions by which they agree among themselves to assist in maintaining good order and honest work. A joint council is to be formed which shall deal with all cases of discipline. The resolutions are very com-plete and seem to embrace almost everything connected with the government of students. A woman's college in Baltimore has issued an order prohibiting men from its gymnasium. Another boom for the living pictures at the theatres.—Ex. A CHEMICAL ROMANCE. Said Atom to Molly Cule, "Will you unite with me?" And Molly Cule did quick retort, "There's no affinity." Beneath electric light plant's shade, Poor Atom hoped he'd meet her, But she eloped with a rascal Base, And her name is now Saltpetre.—Ex. The Faculty Conference Committee of the University of Pennsylvania has adopted reso-lutions calling for enactment of more stringent football regulations, expressing at the same time the opinion that "the undesirable features of foot-ball are by no means unseparable from the game."—Ex. The ancient stadium of Athens has been re-paired for the Olympic games, which will be held in the spring. Seats will be placed for 20,000 spectators. The prizes will be silver wreaths of laurel or olive, and will be pre-sented to the winner by the Greek king, in person. The call for subscriptions has been liberally responded to.—Ex. THEN AND NOW. In days of old, When knights were bold, And chevaliers were gay To kiss a miss Were counted bliss, As poets used to say. But now-a-days, "Germs" are the craze, And science holds full sway; To kiss a miss Is dangerous bliss, Wise scientists do say.—Brunonion. Because of the success of the committee on discipline at Cornell, this committee has been given power to act in all cases of University discipline. Governor Flower, of New York, has signed the anti-hazing bill, passed by the Legislature. The bill imposes a fine of not less than $10 nor more than $100, or imprisonment of not less than thirty days nor more than a year upon all students caught hazing or aiding the affair in any way.—Ex. FASHION'S FOLLY. I knew a maiden fair and sweet Whom I had loved for years ; At last one day I told her this, Although with many fears. At first she did not say a word, Then, in a pleasant way, She looked out to the west, and said, "It is a pleasant day." She had not heard a single word, She's told me since with tears ; She wore her hair, as some girls will, Down over both her ears. —The Vaasar Miscellany. Honors at Harvard's Commencement were taken by eleven of her prominent athletes. Loudly roaring, Grandly soaring, Far above all mental reach, Depths of logic, Gestures tragic, Mighty Senior—at his speech. 54 THE COLLEGE MERCURY. In Latin and Greek He was quick as a streak ; In dress he was foppish and tony. The latter was due to his being an ass, The former was due to his pony.—Ex. They used to sing some time ago A rather plaintive song, "Man wants but little here below, Nor wants that little long." But now-a-days the song is set With music to the rhyme ; "Man wants as much as he can get And wants it all the time."—Record. We leaned across the friendly stile, The gentle moonbeams lit her face, The sweet influence of her smile Annihilated time and space. Quoth I: "The breezes kiss your cheek, Oh, happy, happy breezes they!" Sighed she, this maiden so petite: "Who gave them a monopoly ?"—Ex. We paused to watch the quiver Of faint moonbeams on the river, By the gate. We had heard something calling And a heavy dew is falling, Yet we wait. It is no doubt very silly- To stay out in all this chilly Evening mist. Still I linger hesitating For her lips are plainly waiting To be kissed. So I stooped to take possession Of the coveted concession On the spot. But she draws back with discreetness, Saying with tormenting sweetness, "I guess not." Her whole manner is provoking; "Oh, well, I was only joking," I reply, She looks penitently pretty, As she answers: "What a pity ! So was I."—Harvard Lampoon. por all the latest styles in Suitings and.Trousers, AND 1"ULL LINE OP Cents' Furnishing Goods, Call on D. H. WELSH, York, F»a. A. Q. Spalding & Bros., ATHLETIC APPLIES- ** 9 ® 9 O S © Q 9 © 9 Base Ball,—Lawn Tennis,—Golf, UNIFORMS FOR ALL SPORTS. ;; ^,ide the Spading ^ictrcZs, THE LEA T)ER FOR 1896. ' Handsomely Illustrated Catalogues Sent 7ree NEW YORK. PHILADELPHIA. CHICAGO. J. E. ROYLE, OF LEECH, STILES & CO. THE PHILADELPHIA, EYE SPECIALISTS, Formerly with Queen & Co., will be in Gettysburg, Pa., at W. H. TIPTON'S, THURSDAY, MAY 23, From 9 a. m. to 3.30 p. m. No charge for consulta-tion and examination and every pair of glasses or-dered guaranteed to be satisfactory by LEECH, STILES, & Co. gOLLEGE OF PHYSICIANS S SURGEONS, ^■BALipiVlORE, IV|D.^ The regular Winter Session of the School will begin (^OCTOBER 1st, 1895,^0 and continue six months. The Clinical advantages offered the student of medicine are not excelled elsewhere in this country THOMAS ORIE, M. D., Dean, Cor. Calvert and Saratoga Sts. ADVERTISEMENTS. M sSMrUJJ^E i HI ;1? *.1PH| r ;-B 7$lln I. Classical Course for the Degree of A. B. II. Scientific Course for the Degree of B. S. III. Post-Graduate Course for the Degree of Ph. D. IV. Special Course in all Departments. V. Elective Studies in Junior and Senior Years. VI. New Testament Greek and Hebrew in English Bible Department. Observatory, Laboratories and new Gymnasium. Four large buildings. All buildings heated with steam from central plant. Libraries, 25,000 volumes. Fine Museum. Expenses low. Department of Hygiene and Physical Culture in charge of an experienced physician. Accessible by frequent railroad trains. Location, on BATTLEFIELD of Gettysburg; most pleasant and healthy. PREPARATORY DEPARTMENT, in separate buildings, for boys and young men preparing for business or college, under special care of the principal and three assistants, residing with students in the building. For full particulars, apply for catalogue to HARVEY w. MCKNIGHT, D. D., LL. D., PRES'T., Pe-Msy/B^aiDila @ell)eg;-e" Gettysburg,, Pa» ADVERTISEMENTS. HORACE PARTRIDGE CO,, 335 Washington St.,, B05T0H, MASS. aim Mteia fisiisiti. Ease Ball and 0 5* © Tennis Supplies A SPECIALTY.- -,=3-- IVIr. \A/. H, IVIEISIGES, Our authorized ngent at Gettysburg. I D Millar [WHOLESALE fcETABL, DI:AI,IVR IN ALL KINDS OF CONFECTIONERY, FOREIGN & DOMESTIC FRUITS & NUTS. All orders by mail promptly attended to. .BSTAlso, SODA and MINERAL WATERS, year around. Cor. Washington & Main Sts., - GETTYSBURG, PA. HOP LEE, CHINESE LAUNDRY, Ca?iisle street, first square. All work done with readiness and dispatch. Give Hop a call. BOOKS BOUGHT, SOLD & EXCHANGED. School and Theological 'Books YOHN BROS., _SO1G ^gonts FOP_ 1^ r\abo, Hardrqarj, Voso, ©orioVop, Sel^iabopt, AND OTHER PIANOS. jUillop, JAca&or\ & Harr\lir), Pael^apd, ©l^ieago ©ottago, AND OTHER* ORGANS. MUSIC JIND MUSICAL MERCHANDISE. 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Issue 67.2 of the Review for Religious, 2008. ; Challenges Witnessing Being Disciples Ignatian Exercising QUARTERLY 67.2 2008 Re view for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to liveaccording to charisms, of Catholic religious life. As Pope Paulvl said_, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih review@slu.edu ¯ 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 Josephinum 7625 North High Street ° Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2008 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib S'(/'D QUARTERLY 67.2 2008 contents prisms 116 Prisms 118 134 challenges No Escape from Finitude John Navone SJ reflects about our struggle for human growth, our development with all its limitations, !n relation to our transformation through the risen Christ. Personal and Group Reflection Being Burned by the Fire Mary Joseph Schultz SCC ponders candles and fire and their symbolism in our spiritual life and growth. 114 140 159 witnessing Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley Avis Clendenen explores episodes from the lives of two churchwomen, the 12th-century Benedictine H]ldegard of Bingen and the 19th-century founder of the'Sisters of Mercy, Catherine McAuley, which show the duty and daring needed then and now in leadership that is transforming and transformational. Weavers of God: The Warp and the Weft Jeanne McNulty SFO, OCV, draws upon the art of weaving as an image of effort and pattern in our spiritual life. Review for Religious 165 173 181 being disciples Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment Damian C. Ilodigwe shows how Peter's forthright confession of Jesus as Son of the living God accentuates the importance of personal encounter with the Lord for authentic discipleship. Personal and Group Reflection Seeing with the Eyes of Christ Peter Schineller sJ suggests some practical ways that the imitation of Christ can become our way of seeing, thinking, and acting with the eyes, mind, and hands of Christ. The Celibate Aunt or Uncle: Another Blessed Vocation John J. Fisher OSFS describes the grace and gift of family as not only enriching our vocation as religious but also defining who we are as we minister to our wider, extended family in our various apostolates. Personal and Group Reflection 190 196 ignatian exercising What Is a "First Week Retreat"? David L. Fleming SJ presents a way of understanding the First Week of the Ignatian Spiritual Exercises, often called "sin week," as a time that is about deepening a relationship with God. Is the Church Ignatius's Fourth-Week Focus? J. Thomas Hamel SJ suggests that the Fourth Week of the Ignatian Exercises, which deals with the appearances of the risen Christ, might take' on a more ecclesial look as a kind of triptych. departments 204 Scripture Scope: The Letters and Theology of Paul 209 Canonical Counsel: The Lacuna Canon 215 Book Reviews lly 67.2 2008 prisms O~ 2 February 1974, Pope Paul VI issued his apostolic exhortation Marialis cul-tus. Following up on the liturgical reforms of Vatican I1, the pope desired to identify clearly the age-old norm for all theological and devo-tional development regarding the place of Mary in our Catholic lives. As the pope wrote, "In the Virgin Mary everything is relative to Christ and dependent upon him. It was with a view to Christ that God the Father from all eternity chose her to be the all-holy Mother and adorned her with gifts of the Spirit granted to no one else" (25). The norm is that Mary is always viewed in her relation to Jesus. Liturgical art, both Eastern and Western, has traditionally portrayed Mary with Jesus in its icons, statues, and paintings. It appears that it is only in the 19th and 20th centuries, espe-cially with the Lourdes and Fatima devotions, that the statues and paintings picture Mary by herself. The famous tilma-image of Our Lady Review for Religious of Guadalupe from the 16th century is not an exception. Mary is a woman wearing the broad band around her waist that signifies her pregnancy. Appropriately, then, our traditional imaging of Mary is always stressing her basic title from the earliest church councils. She is Theotokos--the Greek word meaning "the one who bears God." Mary is the first of the apostles; she is always the one who brings Jesus (God) to whom-ever she goes. From our New Testament account, we know that the event we identify as the Visitation follows immediately upon the Annunciation. Mary brings Jesus to her cousin Elizabeth, who is pregnant with John the Baptist. Mary's place in all our Christian lives remains the same as it was for Elizabeth. She is a woman always on mission. She brings Jesus (God) to us. As a result, she remains for each one of us a model of our own Christian vocation. We all are meant to be like Mary in the light of our baptism in Christ. We too are "theotokoi"--people who bring Christ to whomever we go. We are like Mary, our model. We, too, are always on mission. We bring Christ by our way of speaking and acting or just by our way of being present to others. In every situation of our daily living, we Christians are on mission, bringing Christ to others. David L. Fleming SJ Miss Jean Read, an RfR staff member from 1975 to 1998, died peacefully on 23 February 2008 at the age of 96. Answering the office phone, she was the soul of friendliness and readiness to accommodate people in whatever questions or needs or desires they had. She was a proofreader par excellence. We can have a healthy envy of her and her long and good life. 67.2 2008 JOHN NAVONE challenges No Escape from Finitude Life stories, true life stories, involve a struggle from the start. We have complex relationships to work out with the members of our family. We are marked by our early experiences for the rest of our lives, even though changes occur in the way we perceive events, imagine ourselves, understand others, and choose to act at various stages of our life. As our life goes on, changes become more and more difficult. 1181 Human Authenticity Calls for Struggle People hope to grow in sensitivity and responsiveness to true values, but such growth is not inevitable. There are human failures and mediocrities. Continuous development varies with people's roots, their opportunities, their good fortune, their adroitness in avoiding set-backs. People can come to recognize harmful, John Navone SJ has written for this journal for more than four decades. His address is Via Silvio Spaventa, 4; 50129 Firenze; Italy. Review for Religious dangerous, and misleading satisfactions for what they are and drop them. They can choose not to let discom-fort, pain, and privation obstruct their pursuit of true values. They can discover values they had previously overlooked. They can move beyond mere personal tastes and interests to benevolence and beneficence towards others. They can disdain rationalizations, open them-selves to things as they are, and help themselves and others to become what they should be. This is a matter of creative tension struggling towards personal integration. Various conflicting claims and urgencies divide us. Our human relationships can-not be free of all constraint or ambiguity. Our authentic personal development needs questions and problems no less than answers and solutions. In fact, every answer and solution prepares us for the creative tension of fur-ther questions and problems. We develop when we are steadily oriented toward goals which strain our personal resources and are truly worthwhile. Tension between Desires and Limits We experience a tension between our desires and our limits. Desire, imagination, and inquiry would seem to have no fixed limits; a corollary of the absence of limits would be the absence of any need to choose. We learn from experience which desires are impractical and to be dismissed. False or exaggerated ideals, desires, and plans could lead to negative consequences, and so we deliberate about what actually can be implemented. We settle on a possible course of action and proceed. Such a decision implies the acceptance of limits. As G.K. Chesterton wrote: "Every act of will is an act of self-limitation. To desire action is to desire limitation. In that sense every act is an act of self-sacrifice. When ,I19 67.2 2008 Navone * No Escape from Finitude Christian faith does not believe that the tension between desire and you choose anything, you reject everythingelse . If you become King of England, you give up the post of Beadle in Brompton." Goods chosen imply goods renounced. Our decisions ratify and increase our.limitations. Our commitments imply our acceptance of limitation. Our desires, hopes, dreams, and ideals strain against that limitation, but limits remain even when our desires are fulfilled. Jesus Christ, the paradigm of Christian faith, never sought exemption from limits, decisions, or death. Christian faith is lived in the concrete realities of finitude and resists flight into illusion. With no escape from finitude, it relies on God's will and grace. Our actions are sustained by desire of some kind. We seek to attain something we deem good, straining __ against limits. Changing our-selves or our situation implies an ideal which limits should be resolved by differs from our present reality. eliminating desire. This ideal must have come to terms with lim-its; if not, it would remain an empty dream. Christian faith does not believe that the tension between desire and limits should be resolved by eliminating desire. A contemporary theologian says: "For Buddhism, the supreme perfection is to kill desire. How distant the men of the Bible, even those closest to God, seem from this ideal! The Bible is, on the contrary, filled with the tumult and conflict of every form of desire D.e.sire is essential and ineradicable." 120 Review for Religious The Challenge of Serious Decision Making Often our reluctance to make serious decisions and choices is less a fear of suffering than a secret dread that permits few illusions or certainties about what will fol-low. We share with Hamlet the tendency to indefinite postponement; we might, with Heyst in Joseph Conrad's Victory, choose drift. Even that fails. Heyst elect~ some-thing that is not there to elect: security by withdrawal and passivity. Persons who choose to ignore the demands of their circumstances choose what is itself a form of death. Our very needs become known to us as inner tensions, and the way we strive to fill them requires choice. A good choice relieves the tension. Other needs will become evident later, and other choices can attend to them. If our inner tensions imply our need for new deci-sions, our decisions demand awareness and strength. The lack of such strength makes us pathetic. On the other hand, strength is of no use if we are not aware of alternatives. If decisions are to be fully free and human, all that one knows must come into play, and one's will-ingness to detect self-deception. The Second Vatican Council gives expression to the inner tension within which our decision making takes place: The truth is that the imbalances under which the modern world labors are in line with that more basic imbalance rooted in the heart of man. For in man himself, many elements wres-tle with one another. Thus, on the one hand, as a creature, he experiences his limitations in a multitude of ways. On the other~ he feels him-self to be boundless in his desires and sum-moned to a higher life. Pulled by manifold attractions, he is constantly forced to choose among them and to renounce some. (GS §10) 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No E~cape from Finitude Fear of Insignificance There is a tension at the heart of every human life story, which Ernest Becker describes as the fear of insig-nificance. This tension reflects the human nature at the heart of the life story. As a contemporary author puts it: "Man has a symbolic identity that brings him sharply out of nature. He is a symbolic self, a creature with a name, a life history. He is a creator with a mind that soars out to speculate about atoms and infinity." At the same time, "man is a worm and food for worms." He lives in the tension of his duality. His inner self enjoys freedom of thought, imagination, and the endless reach of symbolism; his body limits, however, determine and bind him. This tension is aggravated by the fact that we are not living among ideal persons in an ideal, world. From the aggra-vation of our basic predicament, we often seek pseudo-solutions to avoid having to face the tragic aspect of life. Rousseau taught the French Revolution that people were good and institutions evil, so reorganize the institutions, and people will be able to be good. He assumed that, by their own unaided efforts, people could create institutions to resolve all their tensions and conflicts. 122 Development within Limits Some lives are more integrated than others; some are more full of conflict. We can search for our own true story only within certain limits of possibility and prob-ability. The recognition and acceptance of these limits is, in fact, the only way to the realization of our true story-- the story most appropriate to our authentic possibilities. Tensions are aggravated when we try to be what we cannot be, when we pretend to be other than we are. They are aggravated at the social level when a political ideology engenders in the masses a passionate hope for a utopia Review for Religious without the means to attain it. Both individuals and societ-ies can miss their true stories through self-deception with regard to their true and limited possibilities. Detachment from self-interest and bias is difficult to achieve. We sense the gap between our possibilities and our actual moral achievements. Awareness of our moral inadequacy cre-ates a tension which we often attempt to resolve through rationalization, a "cover story" that is out of joint with our experience. Guilt, rationalization, and self-deception imply the painful experience of moral finitude in our aspiration toward values and our true possibilities. Creative Crises The personal crises of a life story are often turbu-lent, but they do not necessarily have the disintegrating effect of severe mental illness. The powerful emotions which erupt from a personal crisis can signify a per-sonal liberation from false beliefs and lead to a more productive life'. One can emerge a stronger and better person. Some hardship, suffering, or mental anguish is the lot of everyone. These things are potentially creative; they can help individuals improve the quality of their inner self. Economic prosperity and a good educational system are no guarantee of personal morality, charac-ter, and maturity. People grow by passing through such critical periods as coming of age, getting married, the birth and raising of children, and the advent of bereave-ments, old age, and dying. Frustration, too, may assist personal development, for character and personality are achieved through overcoming difficulties with patience, intelligence, and persistence. Getting all we want when we want it does little towards personal development; it even seems to preclude personal growth. 123 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude Some hardship, suffering, or mental anguish is the lot of everyone: The psychiatrist Kazimierz Dabrowski has developed a theory of mental growth through positive disintegra-tion. He holds that, to achieve a thorough integration of the cognitive, moral, social, aesthetic, and other such human functions, one must undergo a disintegration of a previous integration. The positive disintegra-tion of an integration characterized by biologi-cal determinism, automa-tism, rigidity, stereotyping, and a lack or low degree of consciousness is effected by a growing insight into oneself and others and a con-scious and deliberate adoption of other multilevel and multisided understandings. 124 The Correlative Notion of Self and God Our personal history in the use of the word "God" may reflect a maturation process characterized by criti-cal turning points and creative suffering. Inasmuch as our notions of self and God are correlatives, we may uncover something about our own identity by exploring our encounters with the word "God" in our personal crises. If Christ means "he who saves us from a self-centered existence," personal crises may be prerequisites for finding God's true value in our lives. Concentration on self-preservation and self-satisfac-tion, on what appears to keep us from harm, turns love in on itself and blocks it from going out to God and oth-ers. It is good if our personal crises liberate us to live in society with God and neighbor. Never to be free from self-concern about our slightest needs is the condition Review for Religious of alienation from God and neighbor. It is only in our God-given ability to respond to God's self-surrendering love that we can be free to live and love anything other than ourselves. Personal maturation entails suffering in confronting crises in our lives. Carrying our cross daily implies the Christian conviction that, to understand scriptural truth adequately, we need to experience the cross in our lives. Those who can freely lay down their lives for their ide-als and values are persons who have been strengthened by their Master's mission and by their joyful awareness of being loved by him. Such freedom comes from expe-riencing with others a grand participation in God's life of self-giving love. If our notions of the self and God are correlatives, they alert us to the suffering of others, to the reality of their condition, the condition of all those to whom we are related and whom God loves. The Book of Genesis affirms the goodness of the world when it describes God affirming the goodness of it. The compassion that Jesus felt for the afflicted is the compassion of his Father. Not only our notions but also our feelings about the self and God are cor-relative. A reasonable love for oneself betokens a rea-sonable love for others. Its reasonableness includes a profound awareness of the self as gift, as dependent for its existence on the loving generosity of the Giver. Our personal crises should help us to mature in our under-standing of the love which the Giver expresses in his gift of the self and other selves; they remind us that we are not autonomous monads, that our existence and happiness depend on others. Adrian Hastings affirms that cruel people want a cruel God, and cruelty has been a characteristic of human society: the sadism and masochism of the human 6Z2 2008 Navone * No Escape from Finitude race time after time create a face of God as cruel as itself. Old Testament theology could not be unaffected by the cruel divinities all around and the cruelty of the Israelites themselves; still, Hastings believes, the heart-rending struggle of the Old Testament was to show that such was a false face of God, that Yahweh is not mer-ciless but merciful. Our behavior reflects the face of God that we see. What we do or do not do expresses the meaning of our God-talk; our behavior reflects the healthiness or unhealthiness of our vision. 126 The Face of God in Christ Crucified The face of God is revealed in personal crises. Jesus on the cross reveals the compassionate face of God. "Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father" On 4:18). For Christians the cruelty of the cruel cannot express the nature of God; rather, it is the most outra-geous denial of it. A personal face, the face of Jesus, the suffering and crucified Messiah, is the face of the God of love and compassion. This is the reality which the apostolic church communicates in its preaching: "We preach Christ crucified" (1 Co 1:23). Those who die with Christ rise with him; the cross is the security of Christians. The evangelists speak of the cross in considerable detail, for this is the story of Jesus' ministry making available the way to God. To preach the cross is to preach the resurrection; for it is the message of the cross that sets us free: "dead, yet here we are alive" (2 Co 6:9). On the cross the Son of Man recovered our lord-ship in and over creation, through the obedience for which we Were created. The true face of God is revealed in the Crucified; the loving obedience of Christ is for Review for Religious Christians the model of the perfect self. What Christ has done at Calvary creates and shapes our notion of God, the correlative of our notion of the self that is Christ. Calvary reveals a God who serves his creatures with a compassionate, healing, and community-creating love; it is God giving his life for his people in the high priest who is also victim. Calvary expresses the loving servanthood of God in Christ which gives direction to Christian faith and action. The stoW of Jesus is the stoW of God waiting on us: "The blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them" (Mt 11:5). It is the story of a costly, commit-ted, and constant Love that prevails over death. Jesus' life is the parable of God's rule, the embodiment of God's diakonia. Paul appeals to this when he says, "Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ" (Ga 6:2). The way of the cross is the way of Christian maturation in a life of theocentric self-transcendence. It is the way to meet personal and social crises, not a way of escaping them. To preach the cross is to , Treach the resurrection. Communion: God's Purpose for Us All The suffering of Calvary transformed the Jewish con-cept of Messiah among the first Christians. At the Last Supper, Jesus waits on his disciples. The servant who waited at table in Jesus' day was the diakonos. Now Jesus, the master, in washing the feet of his disciples, performs the new diaconal deed, the embodiment of agape: "A new {_/27 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude 128. commandment I give to you, that you love one another even as I have loved you" (Jn 13:34). "As I have loved you" points to God's kind of love, the love of costly self-giving. The diaconal deed of the Last Supper expresses the saving, community-creating love of service and friend-ship. According to John's Gospel, Jesus thought of his disciples as sharing in his diaconal work of cosmic redemption. "God so loved the world that he gave his only Son" (3:16). "In the world you have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world" (16:33). "He who believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do, because I go to the Father" (14:12). Communion through Self-Expending Love Acts of self-expending love for others, rather than out-of-the-body experiences, are Christians' usual confir-mation of the life after death that the risen Jesus' appear-ances express: "We know that we have passed out of death into life, because we love the brethren" (1 Jn 3:14). Paul relates Christ's love to our Christian belief in life after death: "I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rm 8:38-39). The completion of God's purposes for his entire creation and our individual destiny are indivisible, for our lives occur and develop in community. Our lives are incomplete without a depth of fellowship with God and with others, even though this fellowship is only a fore-taste of our joyful participation in God's glorious life, which is the ultimate object of our Christian hope. Review for Religious The Christian vision of God is incompatible with indifference to injustice and the suffering of others. Its vision is of a trinitarian God whose being is in commu-nity, and whose self-expending love creates community. In the light of this vision, salvation is participation with others in the goodness and beauty of God's self-giving love: "Eye has not seen, ear has not heard, nor has it so much as dawned on us what God has prepared for those who love him" (1 Co 2:9). Life and Death in the Paschal Mystery For Christians the risen Christ is the focal point of a theme common to all religions, the pursuit or convic-tion of the ultimate nature of reality. The resurrection of Christ is the key to meaningful life in a numinous but incomplete world. This awesome and fascinating event~ysterium tremendum et fascinans--is at the heart of the life coming out of death that is shown in love of our brothers and sisters (1 Jn 3:14). It is the key to understanding the fulfillment of our life stories in the perfect community of God's kingdom, and also to understanding the mission of the church in solidarity with all humankind. The community of Christian faith interprets the life story of Jesus Christ as a divine summons to a personal and social transformation that requires prayer, informed conscientiousness, and appropriate action. Paul is the community's spokesman both when he preaches what God has done for us in Jesus Christ and in his recogni-tion that the "old man," the old self, self-centeredness, does not die a sudden death. There is a phenomenol-ogy of both life and death at every level of our con-sciousness. There are incontrovertible signs of physical death, and there are incontrovertible signs of physical 129 67.2 2008 Na~one ¯ No Escape from Finimde life. There are similar signs at the psychic, affective, intellectual, and spiritual levels of our existence which are perhaps not as readily discerned. Many of the names or titles referring to Jesus are metaphors, Tides for the Life-Enhancing Jesus Metaphor is a way of grasping the unknown through the known, of relating our former experience, to our new experience. Our metaphors say a great deal about what we are, or are like, and about what we are becoming. They can express the self and help in telling life stories. They are a clue to our feelings about our relationships and about the Mystery which is their context. Many of the names or rifles referring to Jesus are metaphors. Jesus defines himself in terms of the life-enhancing effect he has on others, an effect which cre-ates a community. To John's disciples he says: "Go back and tell John what you have seen and heard: the blind see again, the lame walk, lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, good news is proclaimed to the poor, and happy is the one who does not lose faith in me" (Lk 7:22-23). Jesus is what he does. He is sight for the blind, legs for the lame, purity for lepers, word for the deaf, good news for the poor, and the happiness of the believer. The community of faith manifests the new consciousness that Jesus Christ creates. Jesus' life shows the previous deficiency of individual and communal human existence. People diagnose illness from their awareness of what constitutes good health. Review for Religious Human Transformation through the Risen Christ "Almost twenty centuries have elapsed since the Christ-event took place, and yet no completely satisfy-ing overall explanation of that fact has been proposed," states Joseph Mitros sJ. Theological studies, the sciences, and philosophy have opened new vistas concerning the origin of humankind and its physical and moral state, concerning the problem of evil and liberation from it. These achievements and the data they provide must be evaluated and then integrated into present knowledge before more satisfying answers can be found. There is, however, no doubt among Christians about the risen Christ, the transformation of the apostles, and the community of Christian faith. The apostolic, evangelical, patristic, medieval, modern, and contem-porary theological attempts to explain the Christ-event originate in the reality of Jesus Christ's resurrection. Clement of Alexandria taught that the incarnate Logos illuminates the believer with his own incomparable light. Athanasius and Cyril of Alexandria wrote elo-quently of Christ as the light of the world and as the giver of the Spirit of truth, transforming humankind through enlightenment. There is no single formulation of the .doctrine of the Christ-event in the patristic period. The exemplarist tra-dition describes the effect of the risen Christ primarily as moral regeneration, a redirection of the human mind and heart. The Western liturgical tradition tends to note what Christ's self-giving love has achieved for others. The Eastern liturgies see the event as a rescue and a healing. Christ the victor has enabled us to experience a deliverance from evil, whereas Christ the illuminator explains our entry into a life-giving reality. Humankind has been brought from darkness to light, from blindness 13,1 67.2 2008 Navone ¯ No Escape from Finitude to vision, from bondage to freedom, from turmoil to peace, through our participation in Christ's gift of his Holy Spirit, through our divinization (theosis), through our becoming brothers and sisters of Christ and sons and daughters of his Father. The experience of the lex orandi, of communion with the risen Christ in prayer, stimulates theological reflec-tion on his life story throughout the centuries. It bears witness to tile resurrection as God's action on behalf of humankind and as the transformation of humankind in relation to God. Christian Hope Transcends All Images For every doctrine which sees human lives in rela-tion to Jesus Christ's life stow, the elements of divine and human, of once-and-for-allness and human fulfill-ment, are essential. The saving effect of the risen Christ on our life stories is interpreted according to different models of various cultures throughout the centuries. When they clarify how, through the risen Christ, we may live life more fully, they serve God's people well. The community of faith, however, lives in a state of tension, aware of its limitations. It is only on the way to the fullness of life in the kingdom of God. Our present situation feels precarious, and the future kingdom seems remote. There is .tension between the kingdom to be revealed at the end of history and that same kingdom already present in the Christian faith community and in the lives of individuals going through the stages of their own life stories. Christians live in hope. There is a continuity between this hope and the grace-filled pull of God's eternal kingdom. There is, however, an obscurity surrounding this kingdom. The reason, according to Kevin McNamara, Review for Religious is that the object of our hope is none other than God, the question-raising and question-answering Mystery at the heart of all human life. And so any clear and definite idea of our true future can only be provisional. Christians cannot commit themselves absolutely to any blueprint for human happiness. We are always aware that something is missing, that our true hope eludes all human definition and planning. Josef Pieper says this about hope: "What marks the true hope is that [a per-son] holds himself in readiness for a fulfillment which goes beyond every imaginable human postulate." Hope, nevertheless, experiences the goodness and promise of the Mystery encompassing our life stories. Christian hope, defined by the Christ story, is not without some positive knowledge of what the future kingdom will be like. The titles and names of Jesus, the doctrines and models with which the church discusses our diviniza-fion in Christ, are all attempts to express this positive knowledge of and hope for the kingdom of God. Personal and Group Reflection 1. How have I handled the tension between realizing my desires and, by shutting out other possibilities, experiencing my limits? When have I experienced this tension as bringing me closer to Christ? 2. What is my response to the statement: "The face of God is revealed in personal crises" (p. 126)? 3. What name or title for Jes~s is my favorite? Can I explain the meaning of this title? " 67.2 2008 MARY JOSEPH SCHULTZ Being Burned by the Fire 134] l have come to set the earth on fire, and how I .~. wish it were already blazing" (Lk 12:49). Last year my mind and heart were caught up in this Gospel verse from a Sunday liturgy. Some phrase spoken by the homilist hit a nerve in me and inspired me to pon-der the symbolism and the reality of fire. Why do we use a flame to witness to the Eucharistic Presence in our tabernacles? Why are candles and flames frequent symbols of religious life? What is the primal image of fire saying to me today? How might God use me and my community to set the world ablaze? Open to the Fire Though I have never learned the art of creating fire, I know that kin.dling a flame from scratch requires effort, concentration, and patience. It also requires the proper materials. Using a match is so much easier, but how much more satisfying it must be to create a fire Mary Joseph $chultz SCC last wrote for us in our 65.2 (2006) issue. Her address is Assumption College for Sisters; 350 Bernardsville Road; Mendham, New Jersey 07945. Review for Religious using only rudimentary materials, persistent friction, and breath! Long ago Jesus desired to create a spark in me, at the first beckoning to religious life, when I was a child. He chose me, the most rudimentary of kindling, unknown middle child, shy and backward, plain and unassuming, and invited me to leave home and lend myself to the creation of fire. Calling me to join, at fourteen, a small and little-known religious community in a tiny, obscure New Jersey town, he knew his plan. He desired to use me as kindling, if only I would agree. The dry ordinari-ness of my life could actually catch fire more easily, I suppose. I was easily uprooted and picked up, and will-ingly I came. The chafing and friction began at once. Over these forty years, there has been constant rubbing. Isn't that what community life is for, at least in part? The twig with so many rough edges has lent herself to the Divine Hand. Personalities, assignments, self-knowledge, faults, losses, illnesses, disappointments and shattered idols-- all were offered for the kindling, warmed by the Spirit's breath, and the friction came fast, furious, and constant. How else to create a fire? God rarely uses a match! The twigs of my life were all laid bare, bark removed, and the quickening hand chafed a new spark, a blaze to be used for others. The breath of the Spirit has been ever present, gende, and at times unsettling, fanning the spark into flame. Imagine the patience of God! Most times the liv-ing Wind has been imperceptible to the kindling, stir-ring up smoke and covering its source, always keeping the promise of a blaze alive. Persistent breath needs to change direction if one side is unresponsive. The Breath never gives up in its passionate desire for flame. 135 67.2 2008 Scbultz, ¯ Being Burned by the Fire Eventually the Spirit came with greater urgency, the kindling was in just the right place and disposition for the fire to catch. Now the Breeze was more needed than ever to sustain the blaze, as is still the case. Where would I be without the constancy of the Spirit, nourishing, lighting, stoking the flame, and keeping the blaze alive? As I approach a fire I can choose to take one of three gtances: warmth, risk, or consummation, 136 Coming Close: Warmth, Risk, Consummation As I approach a fire I can choose to take one of three stances: warmth, risk, or consummation. Coming close, especially on a winter day, the warmth is delight-ful. It sets me at ease, calms the shivering limbs, and holds out to me a promise of comfort. I drop my burdens and begin to loosen my wraps, undo the scarves with which I am bound up, and settle in near the comforting warmth. The fireplace can be romantic., a rosy glow to melt away harsh realities and frozen relationships . . . the honeymoon of novitiate days and early ministries when all was right with the world. Soon a promise (threat?) of change creeps into the heart. The Spirit Breath is still blowing. The flames lick higher. Should I choose to back off?. Why risk losing comfort? The rosy glow lulls me, even into a trancelike state. It becomes easy to go through the motions of reli-gious life, near the fire but not in it. Content to observe, being warmed and even nourished, I need to take no risks and I am definitely not consumed. Safety is compromised Review for Religious by getting too close to the Fire, too involved. If I get too near I will be burned. And yet It draws me. I come closer, even at times reach out a hand, and I am singed. Fire purifies, but only when I am close enough. Gold is not refined, iron is not melted, food is not cooked, and a wick is not set alight when kept at a safe distance. I am useless unless I allow the Fire to surround me, catch hold and use me, draw me in to consume. For what else am I saving my life? The flames beckon, even mesmerize, as I contemplate them, but I had better be aware of the risks if I choose to draw closer. The Fire is painful. Over the years when times of suffering enveloped me I have rarely realized the close-ness of God. On the contrary, God seemed utterly dis-tant, mere vapor on the horizon. Only in retrospect did I realize that it was God's closeness and my immersion in the Fire that caused the pain. I could not draw close to a Flame without being burned. Risky? Yes! But also so necessary to be a part of the blaze set upon the earth. Being one with the Fire fulfills my purpose in being. Was I not called to be a holocaust? To remain on the periph-ery, insipid and lukewarm, might be safe, but it is surely not productive. Leaving the rosy, romantic glow of the fireplace to jump into the Blaze is what religious life is all about. I need to be enveloped if I am to be of any use. Being Fire Wood that is caught, right in the middle of the fire, takes on the appearance of the fire itself and loses its own identity. The log glows from within. No longer do sparks dance on the edge, no longer is there only risk of being singed, but now the blaze works its magic from the core. It consumes the willing fuel. Fire and fuel can no longer be separated. 67.2 2008 Schultz ¯ Being Burned by the Fire Leaving the rosy, romantic glow of the fireplace to jump into the Blaze is fohat religious life is all about, 138 Fire burns away the dross and purifies only as much as the wood lends itself. If I resist, roll away, fall off the pile back to a safe distance, my comfort zone, I will not be touched. I will save myself, but for what? I might still feel the warmth as I seek to return to the "safety" of my earlier days. But once I risk being part of a conflagra-tion I cannot go back or run away. My already singed self tells the tale. I had caught the light and begun to burn. Now nothing but total consumption can satisfy me. Why pretend otherwise? I have also learned that seasoned wood burns the best. Wood too moist, too green, too full of sap (self) leaves no room for the flame to take hold. It sizzles, spits, and smokes, too little fire to be of much use. I must let myself be alone to dry, to be cured, even to unfeeling brittleness, as the sap is drained from me and I lie lifeless on the ground, forgotten for the time being. The Stoker of the Fire will again pick me up when I am ready, gather me when I can be of most use, when the flames can really do their job. What does it mean to become Fire? To me it means nothing less than being Jesus, the Light of the world. He is the one who called me, the kindling. He lets me lie at times, unused because I am not yet useful., too green and full of the self-sap that deters the flame. I need to be seasoned, over and over again, dried out and left alone. Only when I am ready will he gather me up Review for Rdigious for kindling, hold me close and breathe his Spirit, all the while applying friction where most needed, turn-ing me this way and that, harder and faster for sparks to catch. There is nothing else for me but to become Fire. In this is my purpose, the purpose, I believe, of all religious men and women. Let God throw me into the Fire. Let Jesus take me over, glow in me, radiate warmth and light, and let me be a part of the blaze ignited by Love on earth. Let me be part of something much bigger than myself. In my consummation my life is fulfilled. Unveiled Hide not Your face. Show me Your face. And though that sight Be my death, I shall live indeed. Show me that incandescent, Altogether lovely face, That earth-splitting, Sky-rending, Fire-kindling face. Be my sole desire, Burn bright in me Until I am molten gold Reflecting only You. Teresa Burleson 139 67.2 2008 AVIS CLENDENEN witnessing Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley Do you remember having a Jeremiah experi-ence once a long time ago? You told God "I am only a youth" and God said, "Be not afraid for I am with you" (Jr 1:4-8). Do you remember that first consciousness of being called, when the clay of youth was moist and malleable? A time when you took for granted that the Potter was on your side, shaping you? When you felt that you and your companions were singing the new church into being? In your commu-nity, do you notice treasure dwindling away? In the anxiety and bewilderment of this our time, how desperately do you seek to prevent further loss? In these days, when I find myself among women and men religious to share faith and 140 Avis Clendenen wrote for us in the September-October issue of 1999. She is professor of Religious Studies at Saint Xavier University; 3700 West 103 rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Review for Religious community, I sometimes think of recalcitrant clay and a frustrated Potter. I wonder if some have adapted Jeremiah's words from "too young" to "too old": "Ah, Lord God! I am weary from speaking the truth in love. Our best days are behind us. I am too old." And God says: "Do not say, 'I am too old,' for even now to all to whom I send you you will go; be not afraid, for I am with you to deliver you." Jeremiah would understand and empathize with the disillusionment, even terror, of feeling that life is falling apart. The youthful Jeremiah found himself in the stocks in midlife. His view (Jr 20:1-9) provides a window into his soul. Walter Brueggemann reminds us that it is in prayer that this prophet of deep dispute finds sustenance for his life and ministry; he finds sus-tenance, however, only in continued dispute. Can you imagine the dialogue as Jeremiah struggles with the God who called him to his vocation in the first place?2 Was he not the one to whom Yahweh addressed the lovely words of "knowing him before he was formed in the womb, consecrating him, and appointing him prophet to the nations"? The help in destabilizing situ-ations, Brueggemann proposes, is honest conversation that draws God in deep and thick.3 Brueggemann goes on to say: "This is the very God to whom prayers can be reliably made, not a therapeutic God, not a warm fuzzy, not a dear uncle, but God of hosts, God with hard capacities and stern resolves. Jeremiah prays to and trusts this God, because alone he cannot withstand his persecutors and he will not appeal to a God who is kind but helpless.''4 Jeremiah's confinement is the kiln of his becoming. He finds a deep freedom; he finds duty and daring, cour-age for the next challenge. He is the patron prophet of 141 67.2 2008 lendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley 142 The Christian faith itself is built upon anamnesis/ best days ever before us, not behind us. What we know about the ministerial vocation is that it keeps unfolding in unexpected ways, that safety is never forever. We will feel fire in our bones from now till the time, as Rahner says, when the harvest of our earthly life is enfolded into the Incomprehensible Mystery of the One past-all- graspness. Until that day we are still in the world's grasp, striving to discern the Spirit's complicity in the losses we experience and to imagine a new vision from the confines of the stocks. How do we tend the fire when the embers are struggling for air? As people of faith we live in anamnesis: the retrieval of deep memory so powerful that reality being recalled from another time becomes present. The antonym of anamnesis is amnesia, the loss of a large block of inter-related memories. It is a catastrophic and sad reality to lose one's memory. People of the Book and those who treasure the long sweep of religious his-tory experience anam-nesis in their liturgical remembering and in the duty and daring of their vocation. The Christian faith itself is built upon anamnesis: "Let us proclaim the mystery of faith: Christ has died, Christ is risen, Christ will come again." The lyrics of Marty Haugen's "We Remember" capture the why of our charge not to forget: "We remember how you loved us to your death, and still we celebrate that you are with us here" (GIA, 1980). This remem-bering roots us in a permanently meaningful past, holds us meaningfully in the present, and orients us toward the future whose meaning we are called to both wait Review for Religious for and bring about. Such Catholic remembering effects what it signifies by evoking and provoking what Johann Baptist Metz long ago called "dangerous memories." He said there are memories of earlier experiences that break through the center point of our lives and reveal new and dangerous insights for our present. They subvert our structures of plausibility. They are like dangerous and incalculable visitants from the past.5 Dangerous Memories Only those who have been transformed to some degree can be agents of larger transformations. Transformation usually relies on the ordinary forma-tive episodes of our lives. The Jungian scholar Murray Stein says, "The transforming person is someone who realizes the inherent self to the maximum extent pos-sible and in turn influences others to do the same.''6 Such an individual has the substance and style to inspire and elevate others to a greater moral largesse. Relatively few people desire to attain the social consciousness and do the soul-making inner work that would make them transforming and transformational persons. In describ-ing them Stein says, "Their lives show an extraordinary degree of uniqueness, imagination, and pristine indi-viduality." 7 Like the prophets of old, the 12th-century German Benedictine Abbess Hildegard of Bingen and the 19th-century Irish woman Catherine McAuley were two such transforming and transformational individuals with fire in their bones. Both women were-in their early forties when they took their first steps beyond what was toward what could be. Hildegard, a medieval theologian, visionary, and church reformer, and Catherine, the foundress of the Sisters of Mercy, were both fifty-two years old when 143 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley they faced and decisively overcame obstacles to bring their visions to fruition. Both developed extraordinary skill in conflicts with church authorities, and, interest-ingly, over three hundred letters of each remain. In short, Hildegard and Catherine are dangerous memories whose legacies of duty and daring remind us of our own often untapped potential. Episodes of duty and daring in the lives of these treasured visitants from the past suggest that they can work in weary souls like oxygen on embers. 1441 Portrait of Hildegard of Bingen On the nine hundredth anniversary of Hildegard's birth in 1998, the Hildegard scholar Barbara Newman wrote: Hildegard is the only woman of her age to be accepted as an authoritative voice on Christian doctrine; the first woman who received express permission from a pope to write theological books; the only medieval woman who preached openly before mixed audiences of clergy and laity with full approval of church authority; the author of the first known morality play, and the only 12th-century playwright who is not anonymous; the only composer of her era known both by name and by a large corpus of surviving music; the first scien-tific writer to discuss sexuality and gynecology from a female perspective; and the first saint whose official biography includes a first-person memoir,s Born in the summer of 1098 in Bermersheim, Germany, Hildegard was thrust upon the stage of life at the close of one century and the dawning of the next. The role of wise women, midwives, h~alers, and coun-selors fell under new suspicions. The practice of seeing the divine in all things was eroding. It was an epoch of spiritual fervor amid the growing corruption of a Review for Religious church bent on the Crusades, which led "poor and frail" women, like Hildegard, to rise up and challenge the clergy to reform. Hildegard wrote prolifically between the ages of forty-two and eighty-one. In addition to two major works on medicine and natural science, Hildegard completed a trilogy of theological works: the multimedia illuminated manuscript for which she is most famous, Scivias (abbreviated from the Latin for Know the Lord's Ways), The Book of Life's Merits, and The Book of Divine Works. She composed seventy-seven liturgical songs and wrote them down in the Symphonia: The Symphony of the ¯ Harmony of Celestial Revelations. Fifty of her homilies are extant. The historian Gerda Lerner says, "The life of Hildegard of Bingen exemplifies the breakthrough of a female genius who managed to create an entirely new role for herself and other women without ostensi-bly violating the patriarchal confines within which she functioned.''9 Hildegard thrived at a time of political and religious tumult not vastly different from our own. "Her sheer force of will," Newman says, "combined with a dazzling array of spiritual and intellectual gifts, a courage hardened by decades of struggle, and a pro-phetic persona, which she displayed in season and out, made her a formidable opponent; and she did not take defeat easily.''~° This could equally be said of Catherine McAuley. Portrait of Catherine McAuley The life and vision of Catherine McAuley, seven [ centuries after Hildegard, provide another deep story 14~ of a woman whose spiritual and intellectual gifts, cour-age hardened by struggle, and prophetic persona made her a formidable opponent; like Hildegard, Catherine 67.2 2008 Clendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine M~uley Hildegard thrivedat a time of political and religious tumult not vastly differen~ ~om our own. did not take defeat easily. From her childhood to her middle years, she knew what it was like to be forced to the edges of her culture and to experience the prejudice of being Irish and Catholic in an age of intolerance. ~t Catherine's efforts to accomplish something lasting have their roots in the faith and courage with which she faced hardship. She reflected often upon adversity as key to her theology of the cross, the central sym-bol of Christianit~,. Over her lifetime she experienced many losses: her father's death when she was five, their fami-ly's descent into poverty, and her mother's death in 1798, when Catherine was twenty. In 1827 she buried her sister Mary, mother of five children. She cared for her sister's children and outlived some of her beloved nieces and nephews. Inheriting in 1827 the for-tune of a couple she had lived with for twenty years-- and driven by her deep faith, her sense of Christian duty, and her compassion--she built in Dublin the first House of Mercy. Her selection of a site on Baggot Street, in one of the wealthiest and most exclusive sections of Dublin, flouted the as yet unrevoked late-17th-century penal code that prohibited erecting a Catholic building on a main thoroughfare of Irish cities and towns. This proved to be the first step toward the founda-tion, in 1831, of the Sisters of Mercy, many of whom would die from the cholera and typhus that plagued Ireland in those early years. Two letters to her younger, Review for Religious most trusted colleague Frances Xavier Warde provide a window into Catherine McAuley's spirituality of the cross¯ In 1840, after the death of two young novices while a new foundation was being proposed, Catherine wrote, "I suppose all will go on well to shew us that what we think a drawback will be followed by greater progress. If they should have a new foundation--it will not be without the cross.''12 In 1841, offering words of encouragement as Sister Frances faced a challenge to her religious leadership, Catherine reflected: I know it is an affliction to you--but rest assured, God will send some. distinguished consolation¯ This is your life, joys and sorrows mingled, one succeed-ing the other. Let us not think of the means [God] has employed to convey to us a portion of the Holy Cross, being ever mindful that it came from Himself¯ ¯. Far better and more profitable for you to receive with all your heart the cross which God will send you in any form or shape He pleases. I earnestly hope you will receive this trial so as to render it valuable to you.13 Catherine's Decision for George's Hill Catherine McAuley was in her forties when she experienced a defining moment in realizing her vision. The novelty of an intentional community of lay women without religious vows and enclosure brought such neg-ative attention that "the criticism threatened to discour-age young women from joining Catherine's endeavors and thus to undermine the very stability of the works of mercy to which she was committed, including visita-tion of the sick poor in their homes and hospitals.''~4 Catherine began "a long deliberation" on how to pro-ceed. On 8 September 1830 she, Anna Marie Doyle, and Elizabeth Harley entered the Presentation Sisters' con- 147 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley vent on George's Hill to serve the canonically required novitiate year before professing religious vows on 12 December 1831 as the first Sisters of Mercy.~5 These fifteen months away from Baggot Street were a pain-ful challenge for the fifty-two-year-old Miss McAuley. She spent the time surrounded by novices more than thirty years her junior. During the last seven months of her novitiate, a very strict mistress of novices made the duties of the time quite burdensome for Catherine. A letter from Mary Clare Moore to Mary Clare Augustine Moore describes the time: Catherine "often said it was so hard a struggle for her to remain [at George's Hill] on account of meeting there many things repugnant to her feelings that had she not the establishment of the Institute most deeply at heart she would (that very e~ce-ning) have sent for a coach to take her back to Baggot Street.''~6 This is a prime example of Catherine's sense of duty reshaping her earlier inclination to dare founding an unenclosed religious congregation. One can imagine how difficult the months of enclosure and silence must have been for a mature woman of such burning vision and apostolic zeal. Centuries earlier Hildegard had a different diffi-cult experience, but one that produced similar daring results. 148] Hildegard's Self-Awakening Following the custom of noble families, Hildegard's parents tithed their tenth child, Hildegard, as a tribute to the Lord when she was eight years old. She pro-fessed her religious vows as a Benedictine nun at the age of fifteen or sixteen. During these formative years, she watched as the original 7th-century Disibodenberg site was reconstructed into a small 12th-century Review for Religious German medieval city. It is interesting to speculate that Hildegard's own desire to found an independent monastery, which she eventually did, had its roots in a mind alert to all the construction going on around her. The physical buildings may have suggested to her young imagination the idea of being a spiritual architect. An unusual child, Hildegard confided in her mentor Jutta: "When I was three years old, I saw an immense light that shook my soul; but, because of my youth, I could not externalize it.m7 This light within her soul she would eventually name the umbra viventis lucis: a spiri-tual gleam or hint of the Living Light, appearing day or night, in full consciousness, and in multicolor brilliance accompanied by a "hearing in the soul." Hildegard, fear-ful of what others would think and what sanctions might be imposed upon her, remained silent with respect to the theological content of her visionary life. This silence and its consequent physical debilitation enfolded itself in Hildegard's daily existence. In 1136, when she was elected abbess, she received a new scope of authority. It was not uncommon for the abbess to be the magis-trate over dual monasteries of both monks and nuns. The authority of medieval abbesses included leaving the enclosure and entering into council with other abbesses. The abbess held spiritual power to bless, proclaim the gospel, instruct, lead Eucharistic processions, and hear the confessions of her nuns. Such powers exercised in Hildegard's time were forbidden a century later and have never again been held by women religious, even to the present day.18 At the age of forty-three, Hildegard finally broke silence on the content of her inner visions. She was "instructed" by the Living Light "to put her hand to writing" and "release the power and mystery of hidden 149 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and DaHng in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley A~ the age of forty-three, Hildegard finally b~oke silence on the content of her inner visions~ and marvelous visions." For the next thirty-eight years, she put her talents and spiritual gifts into both writing and public speaking. An official church commission went to Disibodenberg to examine her partially completed Scivias. The examiners took their findings to the Synod of Trier, where the well-respected Bernard of Clairvaux read portions of the Scivias aloud to the assembled bishops. Bernard urged the pope "not to allow such a brilliant light to be covered by silence, but rather to confirm this charism through his authority.''19 Pope Eugenius III gave Hildegard apostolic license to continue and told her to complete her "divinely inspired" work. (When completed, the Scivias was an illuminated manuscript of twenty-six visions with theological commentary address-ing an array of Christian doctrine.) Such ecclesiastical encouragement freed Hildegard to go forward into an unprecedented future. lyO Duty and Daring Both Hildegard of Bingen and Catherine McAuley successfully negotiated life at the crossroads. Living life on life's terms presents people with challenges to choose well and manage change. Hildegard and Catherine are models of midlife women who took themselves seri-ously as gifted gospel women and resisted the temp-tation toward being insubstantial, toward settling for less instead of more. Hildegard mustered the courage Review for Religious to break from her self-imposed and culturally enforced silence. On the other hand, Catherine chose to embrace the silence of enclosure at George's Hill and the confin-ing duties of the canonically required novitiate so that her vision might find acceptance. Each in her forties possessed an inheritance. Hildegard's was an internal, visionary, prophetic giftedness, and Catherine's was the material gift of £25,000 (a million dollars in today's currency) coupled with her social vision to make a dif-ference for the poor. Their midlife transition brought them to greater vistas of generativity. The poet Rainer Maria Rilke captures this moment when he writes: I love the dark hours of my being in which my senses drop into the deep. I have found in them, as in old letters, my private life, that is already lived through, and become wide and powerful now, like legends. Then I know that there is room in me for a second huge and timeless life.2° Both Hildegard and Catherine consistendy, albeit pain-fully, found within themselves a duty and daring in the daily struggle for what mattered most. Their stories help us do the same. They are dangerous memories. Hildegard's Decision to Leave Disibodenberg Hildegard experienced a vision calling her to leave Disibodenberg and establish her own independent mon-astery. The abbot dismissed the possibility of such an undertaking. Hildegard, in a pattern that marked her life, was stricken with a severe malady. She was filled with energy when she was advancing her outer and inner work and experienced terribly depleting episodes when she was impeded in what she believed to be God's will. Eventually the abbot came to see that the paralysis that 67.2 2008 Clendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley turned Hildegard's body stonelike was the result of his interference with God's will. He reluctantly conceded, granting his permission for her to proceed. After her move to Rupertsberg in 1150--an excep-tional action for one who described herself as "timid and lacking boldness"--Hildegard made arrangements to acquire complete canonical and legal separation from the monks at Disibodenberg. She wanted to choose the monks who would provide spiritual care for the nuns at Rupertsberg, to keep the dowries from the families of women who joined the order, to call the free election of superiors, to hold the deed to the property, and to be accountable solely to the archbishop of Mainz. She insisted that this (secret) arrangement be put in writ-ing, and she received it from the archbishop and from Frederick Barbarossa, king and emperor of Germany. Hildegard's memory of Disibodenberg's physical recon-struction now took wings. She supervised the erection of a 12th-century monastery with indoor plumbing, a complete sewage system, and a hospice for the sick and dying. The community grew from twenty to fifty nuns. While busy with preaching tours (begun at sixty), managing affairs at Rupertsberg, giving pastoral care to her nuns and others who requested it, writing The Book of Divine Works, and maintaining an active correspon-dence amid secular and religious tumult, Hildegard, fif-teen years after founding Rupertsberg, decided to found another congregation at Eibingen. With thirty nuns she set out down the east bank of the Rhine and established it on a site overlooking Rudesheim and across the river from Bingen. Hildegard kept living at Rupertsberg but traveled twice weekly to Eibingen until her death on 17 September 1179 at the age of eighty-one. Review for Religious Catherine McAuley and the Chaplaincy Crisis The McAuley scholar Sister Mary Sullivan writes, "In the six years since its founding in Dublin on 12 December 1831, the Institute of the Sisters of Mercy had merited episcopal approval and support . But the last months of 1837 were a very painful period in Catherine's life for one specific reason: in September a deep conflict arose between her and Dr. Walter Meyler, parish priest of St. Andrew's Church, over his unwilling-ness to assign a regular chaplain to serve the sacramen-tal needs of the homeless women and girls sheltered in the House of Mercy on Baggot Street"21--a situa-tion similar to Hildegard's centuries before. Catherine thought the continuity of pastoral care very important for both the Sisters of Mercy and the residents of the House of Mercy. "By depriving the House of Mercy a chaplain," says Sullivan, "Walter Meyler had, in effect, removed the possibility of daily, and even Sunday, Mass at Baggot Street. This meant that the forty or more servant women and girls living there had to go out to a parish church on Sundays, with the consequent free-dom to dally in the city and delay their return to the House--the very shelter created to protect them from the sexual and other dangers lying in wait for them on the streets.''22 Catherine wrote to Sister Mary de Pazzi Delaney, "My dearest Sister Mary, will you relieve me from the distressing business about the chaplain? It is constantly before me, and makes me dread going home. I know it is not possible for me to have any more argument with Dr. Meyler without extreme agitation . Do get me through this--don't be afraid.''23 Catherine's cor-respondence with Dr. Andrew Fitzgerald OP notes his seven-word summation of the controversy: "a wanton 67.2 2008 Clendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine Mc~luley unwarranted abuse of church authority.''24 Catherine wrote to Michael Blake, bishop of Dromore, who sup-ported her rationale for "one individual clergyman" as chaplain to the house and encouraged her to submit her case again. In doing so (to the Rev. John Hamilton), Catherine quoted from a letter she had sent to Dr. Meyler: We were happily at home today in time for all our dif-ferent duties., but our poor young women are still about the streets, taking advantage, to be sure, of the irregularity which has been introduced among them. I will make one more effort., to prevail on the Sisters to accompany me to their Bishop . We will shew what is lost by the change that has been made . This sad alteration in our once orderly establishment cannot fail to excite pity in a mind like his. At eight o'clock on Sunday evening, a letter was handed me from Doctor Meyler. It began thus: "When is your procession to take place? I should like to see the theatrical exhibition--the Bishop must be apprised--perhaps you may not admire the reception you will meet, for he is too straight forward a person to be caught by your Juggle." I read no more and put it out of my power ever to do so by burning the letter. I must now be done with the matter entirely. I will attempt nothing more.25 In a private letter to Frances Xavier Warde in January 1838 about the situation, Catherine said, "It is humiliating no doubt, a smart attack on self-importance, and if this part of it is well managed, it must turn to good account.''26 A few months later Catherine reported to Frances, "Our Mass is celebrated very regularly every day, and the confessions pretty well attended to--but I never feel reconciled to it . Pray fervendy to God to take all bitterness from me. I can scarcely think of what has been done to me without resentment.''27 Review for Religious Crises and Character The substance and style of Hildegard's leadership in moving her community from Disibodenberg and establishing the foundation at Rupertsberg, and the per-sonal cost and art-istry of Catherine's moving through the chaplaincy cri-sis, suggest some-thing important that has a bearing on leadership that would be trans-formational. They had the capacity for liminality and pos-sessed a prophetic passion. The term liminality is taken from the Latin limen, meaning threshold. Angela Bolster RSM defines limin-ality as "all about risk., a countercultural movement on the frontier, opening up new horizons, indicat-ing new possibilities . . . fueled by a new vision of the future.''28 Those on the limen, at the edge of new fron-tiers, can live in ambiguity and perceive opportunity. Like Jeremiah, they learn to bear disquietude and use agitation and anguish as kindling for the flame of zeal. Hildegard broke silence when she could no longer hold in the content of her visions. Catherine's daring social vision took her more than once to the edge of con-frontation with church authority. Their sense of duty provoked in them an adaptability that deepened them as churchwomen and staved off the bitterness, alienation, and cynicism people feel under the weight of perceived Catherine's daring social vision took her more than once to the edge of confrontation with church authority. 67.2 2008 lendenen ¯ Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine McAuley injustice. It is especially poignant when the injustice is meted out at the hands of the church. It is easy to imag-ine each of these liminal women pr~ying with Jeremiah 20:7-9: You have seduced me, Yahweh, and I have let myself be seduced; you have overpowered me: you were the stronger. I am a daily laughingstock, everybody's butt. . . . The word of Yahweh has meant for me insult, derision, all day !ong. I used to say, "I will not think about him, I will not speak in his name any more." Then there seemed to be a fire burning in my heart, imprisoned in my bones. The effort to restrain it wearied me, I could not do it. Both women's large-mindedness enabled them to sus-tain the distress of the life that wanted to live in and through them and, at the same time, animate others to help them realize the possibilities they perceived were of God and worth the cost. The liminal among us often dwell at the edges of society where the anawim of God live. Transforming and transformational leaders find a home among the homeless, in fact and in faith. They bear God's pro-phetic pathos as their own. They bear the cross where they find it, whether in the medieval crusades, the Irish penal laws, or the current building of walls at U.S. bor-ders. The prophetic personality struggles and stumbles but never succumbs to despair because the umbra viven-tis lucis--the gleam of the Living Light--stirs the soul of those who artfully integrate duty with daring and daring with duty. Such transformational persons are of biblical proportions, vessels of Holy Wisdom in every generation (Ws 7:21-28). The 12th-century German Benedictine Abbess Hildegard of Bingen and the 19th-century Irish Mother Catherine McAuley are two such liminal, passionate, and prophetic women. They wit- Review for Religious ness to other courageous lives lived within the difficult confines of changing eras and changing destinies. Their dangerous memories get into the marrow of our bones. Theirs is an irreducible legacy given to us. Their names are anamnetic and, when they come among us today, they are an oasis in the midst of wilderness wandering, bearing witness to the possible future always before us, especially in times like ours. Notes ' Attributed to an insight from Sister Doris Gottemoeller RSM, senior vice president, Mission and Values Integration, Catholic Healthcare Partners, Cincinnati, Ohio. 2 Walter Brueggemann, Inscribing the Text: Sermons and Prayers, ed. Anna Carter Florence (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 2004), p. 156. 3 Brueggemann, Inscribing, p. 157. 4 Brueggemann, Inscribing, p. 159. s Johann Baptist Metz, "The Future in the Memory of Suffering," Concilium 76 (1972), p. 15. 6 Murray Stein, Transformation (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1998), p. xxiv. 7 Stein, Transformation, pp. 146-148. 8 Barbara Newman, ed., Voice of the Living Light: Hildegard of Bingen and her World (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), p. 1. 9 Gerda Lerner, The Creation of Feminist Consciousness (New York: Oxford University Press, 1998), p. 52. ,0 Hildegard of Bingen, Scivias, trans. Mother Columba Hart and Jane Bishop (New York: Paulist Press, 1990), p. 15. n See Angela Bolster RSM, Venerable Catherine McAuley: Liminalfor Mercy (Cork, Ireland: Sisters of Mercy, 1998). ,2 The Correspondence of Catherine McAuley, 1818-1841, ed. Mary C. Sullivan (Baltimore: Catholi~ University of America Press, 2004), p. 316. 13 McAuley, Correspondence, pp. 400-401. ,4McAuley, Correspondence, p. 33. ,s McAuley, Correspondence, p. 34. ,6 Mary C. Sullivan, Catherine McAuley ~nd the Tradition of Mercy [IY7 6Z2 2008 lendenen * Duty and Daring in Hildegard and Catherine Mc~uley (Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press, 1995), p. 93. 17 Carolyn Sur, The Feminist Images of God in the Visions of Saint Hildegard ofBingen's "Scivias" (New York: Mellen Press, 1993), p. 26. ~s Margaret Wade Labarge, A Small Sound of the Trumpet: Women in Medieval Life (London: Hamish Hamilton Paperback, 1986), pp. 33, I01. ~9 Renate Craine, Hildegard: Prophet of the Cosmic Christ (New York: Crossroad, 1997), p. 26. 20 Rainer Maria Rilke, I Am Tob Alone in the World: Ten Poems, trans. Robert Bly (New York: Silver Hands Press, 1981), p. 4. 21 McAuley, Correspondence, p. 94. 22 McAuley, Correspondence, 2~ McAuley, Correspondence, 24 McAuley, Correspondence, 2s McAuley, Correspondence, 26 McAuley, Correspondence, 27 McAuley, Correspondence, see footnote 83, p. 112. pp. 96-97. p. 103. pp. 112-113. p. 119. p. 144. Time Dive Plunge into the.flow of time Ride the current moment Swirl awhile 'round bubbling eddies Bob lithely on sun glistened ripples Cascade over rapid rocky rills Float out into embracing arms of open sea Then soar aloft to clouds above And gently freefall Rain Drop in the river of time. Walter Bunofsky SVD Review for Religious JEANNE MCNULTY Weavers of God: The Warp and the Weft A nY artisan of handwoven fabric knows this: If the vertical threads (the warp) are weak and under uneven tension on the loom, no matter how the horizontal threads (the weft) are woven, the resulting cloth will be a puckered, slapdash mess. "Called to weave a new spirituality that generates hope and life for all humanity" was the theme of the plenary session of superiors general of women religious held in Rome in May 2007. The question was asked: "What thread are we religious, responsible for our con-gregations, called to weave in this moment in order to become prophetic and mystic 'weavers of God'?" Weaving has been a feminine image for centuries, and cave paintings document the existence of tapestry weaving as long ago as 3000 B.C. Handloom weaving flourished in the 1700s. Nowadays a few of us, mosdy women, but some men too, still send shuttles flying Jean McNulty SFO, OCV, a secular Franciscan and a consecrated virgin (see canon 604), wrote for us in 1997; she lives a semi-eremidc life. claire@wvadventures.net 67.2 2008 McNulty ¯ Weavers of God across warps and are delighted to see new designs pop up on the fabric or web before our eyes. Those who have persevered in the art can draw many analogies between our craft and the loom of our spiritual life. Everyone's vocation or lifestyle needs some structure. Without a plan, purpose, or focus, days and years may be frittered away. On a loom the "castle" is the outer encasement. Within the castle there are "harnesses," usually between two to eight of them. These are frame-like rectangles that hold the "heddles." The heddles are slender metal rods each containing a needle eye in the center. These are threaded in various sequences according to a pur-posed design. Below the heddles and harnesses, close to the floor, are the "treadles," which are attached to the harnesses in a specific arrangement. When the treadles are pedaled or tromped, the harnesses are raised and the "shuttle" (a little boat-like device that holds the bob-bin with the weft thread) flies over and under the warp threads. The interlacing threads form the pattern that begins appearing on the newly created fabric. Almost an infinity of designs can'be produced, and a great mul-tiplicity of shades and hues are made manifest as the various colored threads cross over and under each other on the web. Many designs were developed by those who have gone on before us. Others are waiting to be dis-covered. The threads on the loom can be compared to all the people that cross our paths in life and help us to become the persons we are. This interlacing of our lives with theirs helps develop the finished pattern on the web of life. On the loom there is a front and back beam. In the weaving that I do, the vertical threads are initially tied Review for Religious to the back beam, the farthest away from the weaver, and then threaded through the heddles toward the front of the loom and then through the "beater." This is a long rectangular device containing a reed with short thin metal rods. It can be expanded at least to the width of the warp. The reed keeps the threads from getting tan-gled .and also helps create the density of the fabric. The beater "beats" the weft threads into an even line across the warp, which is tied on to the front of the loom. The aim is to get all the warp threads through the castle and then though the reeds in the right sequence and then tied with even tension to the front cloth beam. This takes time and patience, and it does no good to try and expedite the process. An experi-enced weaver knows not to hurry because, if a thread is put through the heddles or beater in the wrong sequence, the whole pattern or design is flawed. It often means going back to square one with the threading. So it is better to do it right the first time and save hours of unnecessary labor. An analogy to the spiritual life is easy to see. Just as buildings need a firm foun-dation, so a weaver of a tapestry (or of the fabric of her life) should humbly spend the time and energy to thread her loom with order and precision. She should begin by looking to the future with humble and atten-tive prayer. Occasionally, despite very careful planning and execution, a warp thread will break in the middle of a weaving project. It will take a special knot with a piece of new thread in even tension with the others to fix it. experienced weaver knows not to hurry. 161 67.2 2008 McNulty ¯ Weavers of God This requires added time and effort, as it does in the spiritual realm when our sins and flaws require repen-tance, confession, forgiveness, fixing--the knot and thread renewing togetherness and integrity. In the repertoire of weaving designs, there are warp-faced patterns and weft-faced ones. This means that, in any piece of cloth, what meets the eye is either the pattern of the weft threads or the pattern of the warp. In traditional Navajo weaving, for example, the weft completely covers and hides the warp. It is considered a real flaw for a warp thread to be seen, and so the weft is always beaten tighdy into place. The contemplative life can easily be compared to the warp in Navaio weaving. It is so totally obscure. It is, however, the framework for the entire fabric. The warp threads have to be very strong to take the intense beat-ing and packing of the weft threads that will show on the sur- The contemplative life face. Strenuous active lives and ministries can easily be compared to can beat people down the warp in Navajo weaving, in their endeavors to make the world bet-ter. These endeavors, these activities, are what people see and value, but, if they are not sup-ported by the strong threads of contemplative union with God, they will not produce the desired beautiful patterns. Pope Benedict encouraged religious to "weave 62 the living fabric of a useful service to the church., yet always maintaining solid interior relations with Christ. In fact, only from this union with God can that 'pro-phetic' role of your mission flow and be nourished." Review for Religious He added: "Never yield, therefore, to the temptation to distance yourself from intimacy with your Heavenly Spouse by allowing yourselves to be overly attracted by the interests and problems of daily life." Our Holy Father encouraged religious to cultivate the mystical dimension of consecrated life, keeping united to God through contemplation. He said: "The authentic prophet, therefore, is not concerned so much to accomplish works, which undoubtedly are important but never essential. Above all, he tries to be a witness of God's love, seeking to live it among the realities of the world, even if his presence can sometimes be 'uncom-fortable' because he offers and incarnates alternative values." !n creating a piece of material on the loom, once the warp threads are threaded through the heddles and tied on to the back warp beam and the front cloth beam, and once the weaving has commenced, the warp threads can-not be changed without dismantling. It is different with the weft threads. In the active life we can change our occupations, put different yarns and a different picture on the loom of our existence, but always underneath there has to be the contemplative warp to hold things together. What is essential is our vertical and horizontal union with Jesus. If the love relationship is there and he decides to change the design, it can hurt, but it is not devastating because the contemplative warp is strong. There are times in life when the weft patterns seem to coalesce. Everything works out well, and we have a lot of good "yardage" to show, but then can come years when no matter what we do all seems insignificant. The Lord appears to be asleep in the boat, our litde shuttle, and we feel tossed about in darkness. In the obscurity of the night, we become mystic weavers who feel at odds 67.2 2008 McNulty .,Weavers of God with the surface of our life. We cannot see what is going on, but we hope and trust that something special and beautiful is happening in the context of our life. When I have thrown the shuttle for the last time on a long-woven piece of cloth, the moment has arrived to see the web completely finished. I take the scissors and cut each warp thread. I draw the material forward and fan-fold it on the bench in front of me. A passage from the Book of Isaiah comes to mind: "You have folded up my life, like a weaver who severs the last thread" (Is 38:12). We know this moment will arrive, the one when the Master Weaver severs our web from the loom of our earthly life and surveys the finished product. Then we hope that he will delight in the display of designs and intertwining coloi's. In this moment all of us are unique and original. No other person will have the same patterns, the same gifts to display in the king-dom of our God and before our sisters and brothers. Hopefully, our lives will have been prophetic examples of the gospel message, and we too will hear the words the Father spoke over Jesus at the river Jordan: "You are my beloved child. On you my favor rests" (Mk 1:11). Review for Religious DAMIAN C. ILODIGWE Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment Getting to know people is a process. It can be long and complicated, involving several phases that result in increasing knowledge of them. Yet the process can hardly begin effec-tively unless we are prepared to discover who the individual persons are and do not approach them merely in terms of what we think or what others say about them. To be sure, what we think or what others say is important and should not be ignored, but this is not enough if our concern is to know them personally and intimately. For this we need a firsthand experi-ence that gives them the opportunity to reveal themselves to us. Consider what happens when we meet peo-ple. It takes only a while before they begin to Damian C. Ilodigwe wrote on the Magnificat in our 66.3 (2007) issue. He is a priest and lecturer in philoso-phy at Ss. Peter and Paul Major Seminary; P.M.B. 5171; Secretariat P.O.; Ibadan, Nigeria. dammychuks2000@ yahoo.tom being disciples 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment 166 reveal themselves to us in various ways. If we really want to get to know them, such rrioments are precious. We pause and listen to what they have to say. By so doing we might begin to penetrate the mystery that underlies their personality. Such attention involves a certain pas-sivity in the face of their self-disclosure. Indeed, this moment of self-disclosure must guide our subsequent effort to learn who they really are. The process would be skewed if we imposed some prejudice of ours on them before they had the benefit of self-disclosure. Difficult and complex though it is to get to know other people, the reward can be great even after only a little success, and the success is bound to grow the more we try. We become more comfortable in their presence, and with this at-homeness we are able to trust them and perhaps even depend on them. We grow in our appreciation of their worth, and this leads to a much better relationship. Before we realize it, the friendship becomes intimate and personal. We need such a friend-ship with Jesus. Peter's Significant Breakthrough Like all who are called to be Jesus' disciples, the apostles had to get to know Jesus. They were specially chosen by him and destined to play an important role in his mission, but that does not mean it was easy for them to get to know him. Having been with him for some time and having seen the deep impression he made on people, they held him in high esteem. They knew how much people appreciated his words and presence. They were familiar with what people thought about him (see Mk 8:27-29). Yet this did not mean they really knew him. Their knowledge of him, like that of people he healed, was at best superficial. They knew he was the Reviem for Religious son of Joseph and Mary, but it is not evident that they penetrated the mystery of his divine personality (see Jn 5:1-18). If they were to be his ambassadors, it was crucial that their knowledge of him was not superficial, limited to a few details of his parents, his hometown, and so forth. It was impor tant that they knew and understood him for who he really is. Their coming to know him was a long process indeed, which was not over until, after his resur-rection, they received the Holy Spirit (see Lk 24:13-35). Nonetheless, the event at Caesarea Philippi offered a preliminary advancement of their knowledge of Jesus. Jesus brought up for discussion the topic of his identity (Mk 8:27-38, Mt 16:13-20). It was almost like any con-versation in which we seek feedback from others about a particular issue. He began by asking them who people said he was. That was not a difficult question, for the disciples only needed to be steeped in current affairs to answer it, and they were not wanting in this regard. They mentioned the various perspectives that people had: "John the Baptist; and others say, Elijah; and others, one of the prophets." The answer touched the reality of Jesus' per-sonality, but still was superficial. Jesus did not evaluate their answer; he simply asked another question, a more personal one: "But you, who do you say I am?" This sort of question upsets people. It certainly upset them. It took them from the nonpersonal to the personal. It Jesus brought up for discussion the topic of his identity. 167 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment had implications regarding their allegiance and commit-ment. The burden of responsibility became enormous. In such circumstances we usually censor what we say. We say only what we mean to say and what we have evidence for. We can imagine the disciples considering their words carefully. Indeed, it would not be surprising to discover that there was a long silence before an answer came. As usual, it was Peter who took the lead, saying: "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." We can almost imagine that Jesus was surprised, a pleasant surprise, for Jesus' true identity was and is always a kind of secret. People focused (and still do) on accidents of Jesus' birth and circumstances, as happened when he preached in Capernaum (Lk 4:16-28). Focusing on these things, they missed (and still do) the essen-tial Jesus. Peter, however, was absolutely correct. But how did this happen? What emerges is that Peter had been assisted. It was not as a result of any merely human agency that he was able to enter the mystery of Jesus' personality. As Jesus put it, "it was not flesh and blood that revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven." We can recall here Jesus' words that no one knows who the Son is except the Father, and who the Father is except the Son and those to whom he reveals him (Lk 10:22). So it was not through Peter's human effort that he discovered this truth. It was through the Holy Spirit, of whom Paul was to affirm that "no one can say Jesus is Lord except in the Holy Spirit" (1 Co 12:3). It was the Holy Spirit that spoke in him. This was revelation, not merely natural knowledge. Not only was Jesus satisfied with Peter's answer, call-ing him a happy man, but he moved quickly to reward him: "You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church. And the gates of the underworld can never hold Review for Religious out against it. I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven: whatever you bind on earth shall be considered bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be considered loosed in heaven." The enormousness of this reward is breathtaking, but the content is also rel-evant to the future of Jesus' mission (see Jn 21:15-19). That declaration of Jesus' identity revealed imme-diately Peter's deep configuration to Jesus to the extent that he had the seal of the Holy Spirit upon him. Peter's reward can be understood only in the context of this deep configuration. And the logic of this is relevant to us as well, in our relationship with God and with one another. In penetrating the truth of the divine personality of Jesus, Peter moved from a somewhat superficial relation-ship to an intimate personal one. If we understand Jesus in the depth of his divine and human reality, this knowl-edge is utterly transforming, and with transformation comes the burden of commitment and responsibility. To know people at an intimate level is to become committed to them. When we recognize that our rela-tionship has reached this deeper level, we are more pre-pared to take them into our confidence and relate with them still more intimately.| I suppose we are familiar with this situation. When we consider it briefly, we real-ize that it fits well the new phase in the relationship between Jesus and his disciples. With Peter's confession, the disciples were no lon-ger outsiders. They were brought inside and enabled by God's grace to perceive what others longed to per-ceive but could not perceive. The veil was lifted, and they were privileged to perceive the Lord of all creation in his true identity. Now their knowledge of him went far deeper than what people were saying. It involved 67.2 2008 Ilodig'we ¯ Discipleship, Faith, and Commitment something intensely personal, something that commit-ted them to him irrevocably. It did not, however, mean they had mastered everything about this mystery.2 In their very grasp of the mystery, something remained mysterious. They were ever in need of divine assistance to relate with him at this profound level. Toknow Jesus in his divine reality is a transforming experience, and it is our portion as Christians to attain such knowledge: 170 Peter's Confession and Our Contemporary Situation Like Peter and the other apostles, we too need to get to know Jesus better. Indeed, we can regard our journey of faith as getting to know Jesus and experienc-ing the power of his presence in our life (see Ph 1:12- 30). Also, like Peter, we need divine assistance to enter the profound reality of Jesus' divine personal-ity-- beyond a minimal grasp of what the church teaches in the creed. We need that, of course, and we need to integrate it into our faith journey. To know Jesus in his divine reality is a transforming experience, and it is our portion as Christians to attain such knowledge. The deeper our knowledge, the more we see that Jesus is our companion on our journey through life (Col 3:1-17). We see that he cares and that his presence makes all the difference in our life. We see the goodness of committing ourselves to Jesus. Living in accordance with our deeper knowledge of Jesus and our commitment brings us more and more into the divine realm. To confess Jesus as a good man Review for Religious or even a great prophet is not enough. It is to miss the whole point of his mission and our relationship with him. In the face of the artificiality and superficiality of our world, there is a need for us to encounter the full reality of Jesus, not mere extrinsic details. We must not live as if our faith were separate from our lives. Peter's confession of Jesus as the Son of the living God should make us step back and examine our own relationship with Jesus. How deep does my relationship with Jesus go? Is my relationship with him personal, or is it superficial, based on mere secondhand knowledge? God created us to know him, love him, and serve him.3 Knowledge is the gateway of love. The more we get to know Jesus and his love for us, the more we are able to love him in return and commit ourselves to him. All this may seem a tall order. It is a challenge. But it is not impossible to attain, with the assistance of the Holy Spirit, our advocate and teacher. The Holy Spirit, the spirit of truth, knows the depth of every reality, including God (see Jn 16:5-15). If we listen, the Holy Spirit will lead us deeper into the truth of Jesus. He will help us integrate this truth into our faith journey. We turn, then, to the Spirit and ask that our eyes be opened that we may see, our minds opened that we may understand, and our hearts so inflamed with divine love that our lives may be more and more conformed to the life of Christ. Notes 1 See Joseph Ratzinger, Pope Benedict XVI, Jesus .of Nazareth (London: Bloomsbury Publishing, 2007), pp. 335-341. 2 See Henri J.M. Nouwen, In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership (Bandra, Mumbai: Society of St. Paul, 1999), pp. 29-32. 3 See the Catechism of the Catholic Church (Dublin: Veritas, 1994), §§356-361. 67.2 2008 Ilodigwe * Disdplesbip, Faith, and Commitment Personal and Group Reflection 1. How would I describe the process of getting to know another person? Do I find that this process is the one I use in getting to know Jesus? 2. In this article, I look at Peter in his coming to a deeper relationship with Jesus. Who else have been models for me in my own being able to grow as a friend of Jesus? 3. Have biblical studies been helpful or not in my coming to know Jesus? What part does prayer play in my growth? 172) Mary, at the Hour of Her Death "And not an easy dying," said her sister Mary the wife of Clopas, smoothing back Her own gray hair from a forehead marked With midnight watching; "but for all her Pain and the Weight of memories she and I Have shared, she went from us smiling." The ritual prayers she knew are said again; Lovingly, th.ey cover her. And while the women Of the cross go to buy the spices and prepare As once before burial, the Overshadowing Presence that she knew visits where she lies; When they return: Mary is not there. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious PETER SCHINELLER Seeing with the Eyes of Christ A bold statement! How can we claim to see with the eyes of Christ? We are weak, sinners. We live in a different time and place, two thousand years after Jesus Christ. Yet this is what Pope Benedict says in his encyclical "God Is Love." About loving our neigh-bor, he writes: "Seeing with the eyes of Christ, I can give to others much more than their outward necessi-ties; I can give them the look of love which they crave" (§18). Following the Holy Father's lead, we might try to understand and retrieve this part of our Christian tradition. Where is Jesus? We often speak of the presence of Jesus Christ in our midst, especially in other persons. A key text that points to that presence is Matthew 25: "I was hungry and you fed me, naked and you clothed me." When we reach out to others in compassion and love, it is Christ we are touching. Mother Teresa saw this clearly: "Every person is Christ for me, and since173 Peter Schineller SJ writes from America House; 106 West 56 Street; New York, N.Y. 10019. 67.2 200g Schineller * Seeing with.the Eyes of Christ Saints live and model the Christ-life in their own day and agei there is only one Jesus, that person is the only one per-son in the world for me at that moment." We often hear that the goal of the spiritual life is union with Jesus Christ. He is the way, the truth, and the life. We join our lives to Jesus through word and sacrament, through prayer and action. We move to the Father Jind to his kingdom as followers of Jesus Christ. But is there another even more intimate way to speak of our relationship and union with Jesus? Is there a way that lessens the separation or dis-tance between us and Jesus, so that we begin to feel and say with St. Paul, "I live, now not I; but Christ lives in me" (Ga 2:20)? Can we not dare to say, as Pope Benedict does, that we are "see-ing with the eyes ofChrist"? Can we be bold and daring enough to say that we are to put on the heart and mind of Christ? That we reach out with the hands of Christ? Are these words true, or are they mythical, oversimplified piety? There is a story about a statue of Christ in a church. It was wartime, and the church was bombed. The statue stood, but the arms of Christ, reaching out, were broken off. Rather than remove or replace the damaged statue, someone put a note on it: "He has no hands but ours." Is this just a pious tale, or does it express a deep insight into the Christian life? Christian Tradition Speaks This Way St. Paul certainly saw his own life and the Christian life as intimately joined with Jesus Christ. We live Review for Religious and die with Christ, in him, through him. The Pauline writings use these and similar prepositions about 165 times to describe our relationship with Jesus Christ. Paul explains that we are slowly, gradually being trans-formed into the likeness of Christ (1 Co 3:18). Writing to the Christians at Philippi, he urges them to put on the attitude or mind of Christ: "Have among yourselves the same attitude that is also yours in Christ Jesus" (Ph 2:5). All of our thoughts are to be "captive in obedience to Christ" (2 Co 10:5). With even greater boldness he says, "We have the mind of Christ" (1 Co 2:16). The Christian, through the power and reality of grace, grad-ually assumes the shape, the form of Jesus Christ. Saints live and model the Christ-life in their own day and age. We find a strong expression of how we put on Christ in a few words of St. John Eudes. He writes of the Christian's relationship to Jesus: He belongs to you as the head belongs to its mem-bers; all that is his is yours: his spirit, his heart, his body and soul, and all his faculties. You must make use of all these as your own, to serve, praise, love, and glorify God. You belong to him, as members belong to their head. And so he longs for you to use all that is in you, as if it were his own, for the service and glory of the Father. (Catechism of the Catholic Church, § 1698) How This Might Apply to Us The phrase "imitation of Christ" is a hallowed one in the history of Christian spirituality. It often refers to the classic book of Thomas h Kempis. What might it mean in light of what we have outlined above? Can we see our lives not simply as an imitation of Jesus Christ who is out there, over against us, but as one with us, cooperating with us, working in us in every good deed 67.2 2008 Scbineller ¯ Seeing with the Eyes of Christ that we perform? Can we see, think, act, with the eyes, mind, hands of Christ? Can this become a way of envi-sioning our lives? Here are a few examples. The eyes of Christ and our eyes. Jesus observed and learned lessons from the birds of the air, the lilies of the field. Jesus observed, and pointed out to the disciples, the great generosity of the widow who with her two coins put in more than all the rich men. Jesus saw with eyes of compassion the needs of the sick and the blind. Are we open to seeing the needs of others, and to seeing as Jesus saw? Or do we have a beam in our own eye and so fail to see the good in others, fail to see the needs of others, with the eyes of Christ? The mind of Christ and our mind. Jesus was one with his Father. His Father's thoughts of truth and peace-- were in the mind of Christ. Jesus emptied himself and thought of the good of others. Do we let Jesus enter into our minds and reshape our attitudes, our way of thinking? Do the needs of others have more weight than our own needs and desires? Does the truth prevail in our words and our conduct, or do we compromise and bargain with the truth? The heart of Christ and our heart. Christ says, "Come to me, all who labor and are burdened. I will give you rest." His heart went out in compassion for the crowd, hungry for food and for the word of life. His heart went out to the lepers. His heart was pierced on the cross, so much did he love us. He wants to transform our hearts into his own. From hearts that can be cold and insensitive, isolated and stubborn, he wants our hearts to become warm like his own, overflowing with love for his Father and for all God's children. The hands of Christ and our hands. As a youth Jesus assisted in the carpenter shop in Nazareth. In his min- Review for Religious istry Jesus reached out with a healing hand, a hand of friendship and blessing. Children came to receive his welcome and blessing. His hands shared food with his disciples and with the crowds. With his hands he washed the feet of Peter and the other apostles. Do we extend a clenched fist or the open hand of friendship? Do we let Christ work through our hands as we go about our daily tasks in the home, the workplace, the market? Do we see ourselves as instruments of his work, his care and concern? The feet of Christ and our feet. Jesus went about doing good. He continued steadfastly on the journey to Jerusalem, knowing that it would lead to suffering and death. He carried the cross to the hill of Calvary. In our walking and travels, are we instruments for the spread of the gospel and for works of charity? The ears of Christ and our ears. We sing with the Psalmist that "the Lord hears the cry of the poor." Jesus heard the blind cry out for help, the cry of the Syro- Phoenician woman for assistance for her child. Do we fill our ears with unnecessary noise and entertainment so that we have little time to hear the call of the child, the friend, anyone in need? The words of Christ and our words. Jesus spoke words of love and words of power. He spoke with authority. His words often evoked faithful, beautiful responses such as Peter's words "Depart from me, Lord, I am a sinful man." Jesus' words gathered apostles and follow-ers, and captivated the crowds. Do our words echo the words of Christ, so that Christ can.be said to be speak-ing in and through us? Do others hear the words of the gospel, good news, in our conversation? The prayer of Jesus and our prayer. Jesus prayed before major decisions such as calling the apostles. He prayed I177 67.2 2008 Sebineller * Seeing witb the Eyes of Cbrist _178] for Peter that his faith might not falter. Jesus called God "Father" and invites us to do the same. As we pray the Lord's Prayer, do we realize that it is Jesus praying in and with and through us? He prayed for forgiveness even for those who crucified him. Do we let the Spirit of Jesus, dwelling in our hearts, cry out, "Abba, Father"? Do we let Jesus pray in and through us for the needs of our world and our family and friends? The will of Christ and our will. Jesus came to do the Father's will. "Not my will, but yours be done." He became obedient even unto death, death on a cross. Do we let God direct our will, or do we resist handing over our will to the divine will? Are our choices in line with the way and the words of Jesus, letting his Spirit be the power, impetus, and guide for our choices? Prayers That Reflect This Vision Four prayers of the Christian tradition reinforce the thrust of this reflection. The first is the familiar prayer of St. Patrick on the presence of Christ, how it sur-rounds and fills us. Christ be with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ where I lie, Christ where I sit, Christ where I arise, Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me, Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me, Christ in every eye that sees me, Christ in every ear that hears me. A second prayer is from the Book of Hours, of 1514: God be in my head, and my understanding; God be in my eyes, and in my looking; God be in my mouth, and in my speaking; Review for Religious God be in my heart, and in my thinking; God be at my end, and at my departing. The third prayer comes from St. Ignatius Loyola. At the end of the Spiritual Exercises, we hand over ourselves completely to the Lord, to his transforming power, for him to do with us as he wills and as he thinks best: Take, Lord, receive, all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my will. All that I have and pos-sess. You have given all to me. To you, Lord, I return it. All is yours. Do with it what you will. Give me only your love and your grace, that is enough for me. The fourth prayer, more contemporary, the Grail Prayer, is an excellent prayer for Christians as they go about their daily responsibilities: Lord Jesus, I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my I give you my spirit that you may pray in me. Above all, I give you my heart that you may love in me your Father and all humankind. I give you my whole self that you may grow in me, so that it is you, Lord Jesus, who live and work and pray in me. hands to do your work. feet to go your way. eyes to see as you do. tongue to speak your words. mind that you may think in me. One way to begin to live this seeing, thinking, and walking with the eyes, mind, and feet of Jesus is by making it part of our daily examen. Rather than exclusively focus on our sins and failings, or our dominant feelings or emotions, we might focus on how we have or have not spoken, lis-tened, and acted like Jesus. With this Christocentric per-spective, we reflect on how Jesus Christ, and the Spirit of Jesus Christ, lives in and through us. 67.2 2008 Scbineller ¯ Seeing witb tbe Eyes of Christ Jesus Christ was born 2000 years ago in Bethlehem. He will come again at the end of time. He comes now in word and sacrament, and he wishes to be born again in us. He wishes to reshape, reform, and transform our bodies into his own. He wants to speak his words of love through us, and to reach out in compassion to the needy through our arms. The poet Hopkins captures this vision in his "kingfishers catch fire" poem: Christ - for Christ plays in ten thousand places, Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his, To the Father through the features of men's faces. 180 Mourning "I'm so sorry for your loss," I said, or I think I said that, And held out my hand to a black glove that shook, then grasped hard and held on As if my outstretched palm held gold, gold for the going, For going home tonight and leaving him there cold, alone and lonely. No, he is no longer lonely or in pain, or alone - She is. Suzanne Mayer IHM Review for Religious JOHN J. FISHER The Celibate Aunt or Uncle: Another Blessed Vocation Byrother Joe and I worked together for thirteen ears at the Catholic high school that our religious order owns and administers. Beyond our shared ministry and living in community together, we did not have much in common. As facilities manager, he was concerned with heating, ventilating, and air conditioning (HVAC) issues and requests for proposals (RFPs) to read. As a (eacher and administrator, I was concerned with Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT) scores and collegial observations to write. He loved Broadway music while I played rock and roll. He would go out for a bike ride while I went out for a run. The special thing about which we agreed was that there is no greater vocation than being a celibate uncle. With excitement we exchanged stories about fam-ily get-togethers, our nephews' and nieces' accomplish-ments, and their latest activities and e~iploits. We could John J. Fisher OSFS has worked for twenty years in secondary and now college education. His address is De Sales University; 2755 Station Avenue; Center Val!ey, Pennsylvania 18034. Email: john. fisher@desales.edu 181 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle Prayer is a special, gift we religious priests, brothers, and sisters offer to our nephews and nieces. 182 visit their homes, have tremendous fun with them, spoil them, sugar them up, hold the babies once changed, and then leave. We would brag about their strengths and minimize their growing pains. All of our friends heard many family stories. We knew that our nieces and neph-ews were a special grace toward living our religious life well. Let me share an anecdote. "To listen to your messages, press one; to get mes-sages, press two. 'Hey, Uncle John, this is Danny. Just calling to ask if you can pray for DJ, one of our basket-ball players at Central Catholic. He got in a car acci-dent driving home from the school dance. He must have fallen asleep and drove off into a ditch. The police didn't find him till the next morning. He's in a coma. Please pray for him. Okay? Love you.'" As Danny was only in fifth grade when he left this mes-sage, it tells me three things. First, Danny already has his sights set on playing basketball at the high school level. He even speaks as if he is already part of the team, telling me "we lost a close one last night." Second, not only does Danny believe in the power of prayer, but he is other-centered, especially if the other is a star athlete. Third, Danny looks to his celibate uncle as one to whom he can go for prayers of intercession. Danny is now in sixth grade, DJ is recovering nicely, and I am still blessed with the privilege of praying for the intentions of my siblings and their greatest gift to me: their sons and daughters. Review for Religious Prayer is a special gift we religious priests, brothers, and sisters offer to our nephews and nieces. Because of our vocation and its implicit commitment to individual and communal prayer, we become the obvious "go-to" people to pray for people's petitions. We are asked to pray for this nephew's intention, this niece's special favor,~ or that of someone we do not even know but who is dear to our loved ones. They believe not only in the power of prayer, but very specially in our including them and their intentions in ours. Our fidelity to prayer in our state in life frees us to do just that. Several years ago I was challenged by a classmate to include my family, naming each one individually, in the intercessory part of my prayer life. Daily, morn-ing and evening, I conclude the intercessory portion of my prayer by naming all my siblings and their children from oldest to youngest. I include the intentions I know abouh ones specially asked for and unvoiced ones I sense are needed. In a generic way, I pray through the inter-cession of our parents (the young people's grandparents) that all within the family may be safe, protected from harm, happy, healthy, faithful to parents' and grand-parents' good example, and open to the presence and blessing of the Lord. Depending on the situation, I add specific intentions, from guidance in choosing a college to success in a master's program. Including them daily in prayer brings to mind the gift they are as individuals and our special relationship with each other. It is also a daily reminder of the tremendous gift of prayer and the need to specially cultivate this treasure. In addition to prayer, there are other aspects of the spiritual place we have in our relatives' lives. We are always invited to receptions of a new sacrament, the yearly school Christmas plays, and every gradua- 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle tion. Our relatives expect something spiritual from us, whether it is a holy card or a blessing on their fore-heads. Our small monetary gifts are always appreci-ated in a unique way, for they know we do not have the wherewithal that other aunts and uncles may have. It is often the celibate aunt or uncle that remembers all the birthdays of nephews and nieces. They count on us for the yearly birthday card, perhaps one at Halloween, and a small gift at Christmas. They call on us for that spe-cial "religion project" or an answer to some theological question. Of course, this can be a mixed blessing. When we do not know offhand who was the mother of Ruth or the pope of frequent communion, they call into ques-tion how we got ordained or what kind of a religious we are. We are, though, privileged to baptize them, to give them their first Eucharist, to witness their exchange of marriage vows or to read at their wedding. We hear of them explaining our way of life to their friends with a sense of special pride, bragging in their own way. Many of them call us weekly to "check in," affording us the opportunity to affirm and to express our ongoing love for them. We are their personal cheerleaders in each and every adventure, whether it is a passing fad or a passion that perdures. They expect us to say that they played well regardless. They understand that we have a right to be biased in thinking they were the best on the stage, on the court, or on the playing field. Every picture they paint is a Rembrandt, and every musical composition borders on something worthy of Carnegie Hall. Our nephews and nieces give us joy and hope. We are privileged to share their lives and stories in a way that maybe their other aunts and uncles cannot, because they are necessarily attentive to their own children's Review for Religious journeys. With no children of our own, we have the freedom to be the special aunt or uncle. They all become ours in a special way, collectively and individually. In a special bond of trust, we may be privy to hear-ing something that their own parents do not yet know (one getting stopped by the police for driving over the speed limit or a niece protecting a nephew from getting into trouble). Such discreet listening is usually not seri-ous, and things turn out well. We serve as a compassionate ear when they are not ready to go to their parents. They come to us for hope, under-standing, and accep-tance. They know clearly that we would never withhold something their parents need to know, but we can still listen to them as they tell us that their parents do not understand or are being unreasonable. They hope that we may serve as the voice of reason interceding for them to have a cell phone, be allowed to drive to school, or stay out just a little longer. We may be able to reach them simply because we are not their parents. We can be their sounding board, and we can help them realize how deeply their parents love and care for them, sensitizing them to the delicate vocation of parenting. All of this allows us to bring, with pride and vital-ity, this great sense of family into our homilies or our classes. In understanding them, their accomplishments, and their gradual maturation, we are able to relate to parents to whom we preach or whose children we teach. We may be able to r each them simply because we are not' their parents. 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle Our love manifests itself in our being compassionate and gentle with those whom we serve and who in various ¯ ways are similar to our nephews and nieces. It lets us see that there is no vocation more difficult, more precious, and more needed than parenting. Invited into the homes and lives of our siblings, we get a real sense of what it means to parent and to grow up in this changing world as a child, teenager, or young adult. In sharing these sto-ries, our preaching and teaching become real, vital, chal-lenging, and spirit filled. We can offer a strong sense of faith because we have received it from these relatives of ours. Our siblings' fidelity to their spouses and children exhorts us to a renewed commitment to be poor, chaste, and obedient for our own sakes and for the world. The relationship afforded us as aunts and uncles reminds us that we were born into a natural family before entering our religious family. We journey like everyone else as we see our loved ones struggling in school, working tirelessly to afford tuition, striving to stay sober, searching for employment, or hoping to find that special soul mate. We prayerfully accompany their growing pains, seeing the cycle in one after another. We serve as one who, standing off in the distance, perceives the special quality in each of them and then helps them appreciate their own unique spark of the divine. With everyone we have different relationships that change and grow over the years. With each of several families, we may experience different traditions, habits, and customs. But we highlight for all of them a larger sense of family, a broad sense of gift, and the God who is the giver of all. We can also share with family our religious lives and what we have to offer from our own ministry. We can offer a sense of hope to siblings who are so closely con-nected to their children that they cannot see beyond an Review for Religious attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), a poor self-image, a lack of responsibility, an inability to make this team or star in that role. We can remind them that their children's growing edges are no different from other children's, and we can offer the assurance that "things take time" and "this, too, shall pass." We may downplay the seriousness they see as concerned parents, knowing ourselves the greater severity of some other peo-ple's worries. With the passing of years, - we can reflect back to our nephews and nieces and their parents the fine growth and maturing we have observed. At the same time, we may be disconcerted that they grow up so quickly. We take another look at ourselves, our mortality, the fragility of our life, and may wonder what lessons we will have handed down to them. Additionally, we share our religious family, its mem-bers, and its charism with our relatives. We occasionally invite our natural family into the intimacy of our reli-gious family, where a mutual enrichment is enjoyed that enhances each family. We enjoy hearing our nephews and nieces call our fellow religious by their first names (Bob, Jack, Mary, Pat), showing the close bond they share instead of using titles like Father, Sister, Brother. They become extended members of our various reli-gious orders, championing our cause and ministry, even becoming our cheerleaders, bragging about our spirit, charism, and apostolates. Later in life, they invite us into their newly formed families and homes. They come We can also share with family our religious lives and what we have to offer from our own ministry. 187 67.2 2008 Fisher ¯ The Celibate Aunt or Uncle 188 to visit, take us to dinner, invite us on their vacations, and support us as benefactors. These sentiments and relationships may not always be the lived situation. For some religious, they might not be real or feel real. Perhaps we find ourselves at odds with members of our family. We religious are like people everywhere. Though wonderfully redeemed, we are keenly aware of our flaws and sinfulness, and our fellow religious remind us of them. This is a blessing of living the communal life. But, sadly, we may find our-selves estranged from members o~ one or both of our two families. If so, a question needs to be asked: Is there anything so devastating that prayer, grace, and the pres-ence of God cannot heal? Of course, we cannot make up for lost time direcdy. Our nephews and nieces only have one "first communion," special recital, or game-winning three pointer. But, still, let us work at being gende and loving toward members of our families. Let us be vul-nerable to their forgiveness or compassion so that their grace and spirit may enrich our lives and ministries. They have much to teach us about being pastoral. Our nephews and nieces have trust in us. They value our vocation as religious and the graced role we serve as their special aunts and uncles dedicated to God's wider family. They can inspire us to a tremendous sense of fidelity. They need us to be women and men of integ-rity, faithful to our calling and our ministry. When it becomes difficult to be faithful, when it feels desirable to be anything but poor, chaste, and obedient, who we are to them and for them can serve as our motive to be the religious we vowed to be in the presence of God, the church, and that family of ours. We must not dis-appoint them. Being a celibate aunt or uncle is more than another hat, another role, another relationship. It Review for Religious is a phenomenal blessing like few others that breathes meaning into who we are--and how we are that uncle or aunt for all of God's people. Brother Joe and I no longer live in the same local community. When we gather for a communal celebra-tion, we keep each other abreast not just of our doings, but rather of our lives as uncles, our blessing as uncles, and all the joy that our nephews and nieces bring to us. Personal and Group Reflection 1. How has this article stimulated me to reflect on my vocation choice as I relate to the younger members of my family? 2. Acknowledging the tensions that arise in family relationships, can I reflect on some success stories in handling a difficult time? Invitation to Prayer The lake reflects a mirror calm, scents of wildflowers fill the air, a lone deer at the water's edge stares into the depths of heaven. Evergreens frame the tranquil scene, fir and pine in a regal pose, anticipating the coming of the finch and wren and sparrow. It is a time to approach God, to savor his creations, to let him penetrate the soul, raise the spirit, possess the heart. Neil C. Fitzgerald 67.2 2008 DAVID L. FLEMING gnatian exercising What Is a "First Week Retreat"? The Ignatian retreat of a few days to a week has commonly been called a "First Week" retreat. Ignatius himself described an adapta-tion of the full four-week Exercises with the phrase "giving the First Week exercises." The assumed focus has traditionally been on "sin" as outlined by Ignatius in the five explicit "exercises" of the First Week. In the tradition it has been acknowledged that Ignatius allows for some instruction on prayer as described at the end of the Exercises and on the various examens that are briefly explained at the beginning of the First Week. In this brief study, however, I want to focus on the prayer exercises, not on the instructions the retreat director may give. :190 ] David L. Fleming SJ is nearing twenty years as this jour-nal's editor. He first published the following article in the Indian journal Ignis, volume 37, number 3. Review for Religious Despite the practice known as "traditional," espe-cially with the retreats preached in the 19th- and 20th-century retreat houses, I question whether Ignatius intends a closely literal interpretation of the First Week. Does Ignatius intend to restrict the prayer material for those making a shorter retreat to meditation only on sin? Do we not need rather to take into consideration the dynamic of the First Week in order to understand how to structure and adapt a First Week retreat? How might we describe the dynamic or movement of the grace of the First Week? It is the interplay between the grace retreatants seek and the colloquy or conver-sation they have with God in each prayer period. Although in this Week, in the second prelude, Ignatius usually suggests a specific way of praying for a grace, he also speaks generally about the way of conversing with God in the colloquies. Because he describes a colloquy as a friend talking to a friend (or perhaps a servant to his master), he presumes that the conversation flows and is not predetermined. The Ignatian dynamic appears in this interplay between the grace sought and the results of the conversation, the colloquy. In an individually directed retreat, the director listens to this interplay between the grace prayed for in the prelude and the grace received as described to the retreat director. The director thereby receives inti-mations for the direction of the following day's prayer. Ignatius places the emphasis, not on dwelling on personal sins or on evil in our world, but on being grateful t

Issue 59.6 of the Review for Religious, 2000. ; NOVEMBER: DECEMBER 2000 ,VOLUME 59 NUMBER 6 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bimonthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-977-7363 ¯ Fax: 314-977-7362 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for.Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, iVlO 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 subsEription rates. ©2000 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. Jew rel,g,ous LIVING OUR CATHOLIC LEGACIES Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming sJ Clare Boehmer ASC Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm James and Joan Felling Adrian Gaudin SC Kathryn Richards FSP Joel Rippinger OSB. Bishop Carlos A. Sevilla SJ Patricia Wittberg SC NOVEMBER DECEMBER 2000 VOLUME 59 NUMBER 6 contents 566 spiritual practice Retrieving the Practice of Silence Donald J. Goergen oP enters us into an appreciation of silence that we might commit ourselves more to its observance. 575 The Dangers of Solitude Kenneth C. Russell, guiding readers through some 12th-century advice to hermits, shows its 2 l st-cenrury relevance to hermits and others as well. 584 A Spiritual Direction Mary Beth Moore SC gazes at, listens to, a few moments of reality and possibility within contemporary sisterly living. 594 a witness response Contemplative Religious Witness: A Redemptoristine Monastery Dennis J. Billy CSSR finds the life of a group of contemplative sisters very much present to his apostolic mission, and happily reflects that the reverse is true as well. 601 AVowed Response to the Postmodern World Andr~ Maureen Soete SSND seeks ways for the vowed life to contribute more vigorously, more effectively, to the alleviation of troubles in our troubled world. Review for Religious 608 examples from the past Mary Ward: Centuries Her Scroll Lawrence F. Barmann sketches the life story of Mary Ward, the saintly English founder of the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary, as an inspiration for us living in the current ecclesial milieu. 614 627 St. Catherine's Letters: Human Love, Gracious Authority Stan Parmisano OP finds that in style and content the letters of Catherine of Siena (1347-1380) have surprising and challenging and charming relevance for persons living today. Katharine Drexel's Cultural Relevance Now Normandie J. Gaitley SSJ sketches the life of the recently canonized Mother Katharine Drexel SBS (1858-1955), a Philadelphia debutante who used her inheritance to serve Native Americans and African Americans. 633 643 vocation When Vocations Happen by Accident Elizabeth Julian RSM describes with quiet enthusiasm her sense of a flexible small community in New Zealand that fosters acquaintance and has shown itself to foster vocations. Vocational Support Donald Macdonald SMM speaks of the human need of support in one's vocation and of the providential availability of that support if we are alert to its manifold presence. departments 564 Prisms 650 Canonical Counsel: Responsibilities of the Novice Director 656 Book Reviews 666 Indexes to Volume 59 November-December 2000 prisms Whave come to appreciate the rich complexi.ty of the biblical term jubilee, espe-cially as we have looked toward the new millennium. But as we approach the Advent and Christmas seasons of the year 2000, one focus of jubilee stands out. Jubilee implies celebration. Advent and Christmas seasons pro-vide an opportune moment for us to consider what it is that we celebrate. Celebrati6n often means bringing people together, sometimes those dearest to us, and at other times the "crowd" that comes together only for special occasions. Celebration can include elegant banquets or simple fin-ger food. It may suggest a refined cocktail party or a noisy beer-keg-and-pretzels get-together. Celebration can imply long-term planning or it may be a spur-of-the- moment, spontaneous occasion. We celebrate beginnings, like newborn babies and the wedding day; we celebrate completions, like school graduations and retirements. We observe national patriotic days, and we take time for religious festivals. But for all the aspects of a jubilee year of forgiveness, justice, and reconciliation, what is it that we most cele-brate? The biblical notion of jubilee celebrates, above all, our being God's people and our living like God's sons and daughters. This planet called Earth is "home" for us because it is God's home. Our space-age view of our planet Earth has brought home to us how much we all are "stewards," not owners, of God's gift to us. Review for Religious What is striking is how our jubilee celebrations enter us into the Gospel Prodigal Son parable. Whether we more identify with one who hopes to see life as only an arena of personal delights and squanderings or whether we more identify with the other who defines life as a kind of slavery with weighty obligations and grim duties, we realize how much we need a jubilee understanding of life. Both sons, in Jesus' famous parable, understand neither the father who helped bring them into life nor the life which this father wants to share with them. The first son in his self-cen-tered celebrating misses the point of celebration. The second son in his self-defined servitude also misses the idea of celebra-tion. Just as the father in the parable goes out of the way to meet each son, so God continues to break into our life to call us to a reality of biblical jubilee. Advent is our jubilee celebration of our longing and desire to dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of our life. Christmas is our jubilee celebration of God's desire and longing to come and play forever among the children of Earth. Advent and Christmas are at the center of our understanding jubilee because both seas~ons emphasize the heart of all our reasons to celebrate: God calls us sons and daughters, and we know the redemptive salvation that Jesus brought, of living in God's home all the days of our life. David L. Fleming SJ thank you for your ~uppor~throughout thi~ pa~t yoar and pray that (~od~rieh o a nd~ abundant iubiloo Advont and ~hri~tma~ Th~ Mitor~ and ,of Revi~ ~orRoligiou~ . " November-December 2000 spiritua practice DONALD J. GOERGEN Retrieving the Practice of Silence Jesus experienced the need for quiet. "In the morn-ing, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed"(Mk 1:35, NRSV). What did he seek there? What did he find? The Book of Psalms is quoted in the New Testament more often than any other book of the Hebrew Bible. What role did the psalms play in the prayer of Jesus? "Be still, and know that I am God" (Ps 46:10). How often in the course of his life did Jesus pray over verses like that, or this: "For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation"? (Ps 62:1). There are few things in human life more important, both personally and communally, than discovering the value of silence. Spirituality and religion are important dimensions of human and social life, and so are silence and stillness. Other civilizations, perhaps more pastoral, more agrarian ones, had greater opportunities for the practice of silence. Our times seem less fortunate in that regard. Yet silence is essential to wholesome living. My purpose in these reflections is to help us appreciate silence more and commit ourselves to practicing it. Donald J. Goergen OP wrote on celibacy for our May- June 1998 issue. His address is Friends of God Dominican Ashram; 720 35th Street; Kenosha, Wisconsin 53140. Review for Religious Worship, Charity, and Silence Which is more important, love of God or love of neighbor? (Mk 12:28-31). It does not take much to realize that this question is falsely posed. Which is more important, inhaling or exhaling, yang or yin? St. Anselm spoke of God as "the Being a greater than which cannot be conceived." Certainly, for one who believes, God alone deserves to be worshiped. Adoration and praise are the only appro-priate responses to God. Although there is nothing in human life more important than love of God, the God of Jesus instructs us that there is something that must precede or accompany it. "So, when you are offering your gift at the altar, if you remem-ber that your brother or sister has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go first be reconciled to your brother or sister, and then come and offer your gift" (Mt 5:23- 24). "Those who say 'I love God,' and hate their brothers or sis-ters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen cannot love God whom they have not seen. The commandment we have from him is this: those who love God must love their brothers and sisters also" (1 Jn 4:20-21). As important as worship is, equally important is the practice of charity, love of neighbor, the "works of mercy" (Mr 25:31-46). The revolution in Jesus' teaching was not that he understood love of God, the Shema (Dr 6:4-5), as the core of the Hebrew Scriptures. Almost every practicing and devout Jew understood that to be the great com-mandment. But Jesus' placing love of neighbor (Lv 19:18; Mk 12:31) on a par with love of God, that was revolutionary, and for him that was what true religion is about. For Jesus, the second commandment is not secondary, not second in the sense of less significant. According to Matthew, it is "like" the "great and first" commandment (Mr 22:38-39). Luke (10:27) reports them as really one commandment. True worship or love of God is inseparable from true com-passion or love of neighbor. But what do love of God and love of neighbor, or worship and the works of mercy, have to do with the practice of silence? Abhishiktananda, or Henri Le Saux, the French monk who came to India in 1948 and immersed himself in its reli-gious environment, wrote: Now if something has passed in this long discourse by the way of words, yet beyond words, if you have heard in the words of the Upanishads some echo of what the Spirit has November-Decenlber 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence certainly whispered in your heart when you sat in contem-plation of the mystery of the Father and the Son, then you will discover by yourselves the secret of what is called the Advaitic or Upanishadic prayer. It can be summed up in one Hebrew phrase of Psalm 65, which Jerome translates: silen-tium tibi laus. Silence is praise for you. Silence in prayer, silence in thanksgiving, prayer, and adoration, silence in meditation, silence inside and outside as the most essential preparation for this stillness of the soul in which alone the Spirit can work at his pleasure.~ The contemplative and interior journey, the love and worship of God, are dependent on silence. But charity or love of neigh-bor depends on silence too. A loving kindness toward our human companions on this earth requires the silent journey inward just as true worship of God requires it. Can there be true love of neigh-bor without confronting the truth about ourselves? Can we expect reconciliation and forgiveness in our world if we ourselves are not yet ready to forgive? If we are to transform our world, we must also be working on becoming transformed ourselves. Social engage-ment requires time apart. Silence is essential if we are to deepen our love for God and our love for our neighbor. Silence, Solitude, and Simplicity What does silence sound like? What does it look like? Are there different kinds of silence? Now there was a great wind, so strong that it was splitting mountains and breaking rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earth-quake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of sheer silence. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his mantle and went out and stood at the entrance of the cave. (1 Kg 19:11-13) True silence, the inner stillness, the still point, is an achieve-ment to be sought, yet always remains a grace. But it is a grace upon which we must focus our attention. It requires discipline, which does not guarantee interior silence, but rather prepares the way. We must devote time to "the practice of silence," the practice of interior and contemplative prayer, the practice of an awareness that is the fruit of quieting the mind.2 Such "quiet" is not easily obtained in our world today. Not Review for Religious that a busy, technological, urban society is the enemy of silence, but neither is it a friend. Modern social and commercial life cannot prevent the pursuit of silence, but neither do they encourage or value it. Entertainment is a noisy industry. The more channels we have on television, the better. But then they must be filled--with "stuff," whatever it be. They compete for attention; thus, the more out-rageous, the more likely the success. The Internet now multiplies ways to distract us from an inner stillness. Not to find television entertaining seems quaint. To see it or the overuse of the Internet as distraction from true entertain-ment, a life with God quietly pursued, is sec-ular heresy. For silence is not the stuff of which modern societies, commerce, or edu-cation are ordinarily made. Not that the media, the schools, the churches, market-places, and businesses are avowed enemies of silence; they are just uneasy with it. We are talking about a disciplined silence that requires resolve. Its close friends are solitude and simplicity. These compan-ions reveal how countercultural true silence really is. Solitude is one of silence's most cherished friends. Yet how difficult it is in our world today to find solitude, to pursue solitude, to practice solitude. We are "driven" away from it. We can hardly face the silence within ourselves. We flee. As Francis Thompson wrote: I fled Him, down the nights and down the days; I fled Him, down the arches of the years; I fled Him, down the labyrinthine ways Of my own mind; and in the mist of tears I hid from Him, and under running laughter.3 The running is aided by all the activities of our world, justified by the needs of our world, and rationalized by "This is just our world and that's the way it is." To desire silence we must value solitude. We identify aloneness with loneliness. But, until we are at home with ourselves, we will always be lonely, no matter how busy, how "with it," how much with others we might be. As we know, marriage is no cure for loneliness. Neither is single life. Dietrich Modern social and commercial life cannot prevent the pursuit of silence, but neither do they encourage or value it. November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving tbe Practice of Silence Bonhoeffer once cautioned us to be wary of the person who lives with another or in community who cannot be alone, or who lives alone but cannot live in community.4 Sociality and solitude are two sides of the same coin: we can-not find one without the other. Silence lives on solitude. We must find ways to structure it into our lives on a regular basis, like the food we eat. Where can we find that place apart, that space for being alone, and for how long can we keep ourselves there with-out being taken up by distractions~ Where can we go to practice silence? Or how in the midst of activity can we find that cell within? s One of solitude's companions is simplicity of life. Simplicity inside requires simplicity outside. A cluttered, thing-filled, con-sumer- intensive environment is hardly the place in which to prac-tice an awareness that few things in life are important. The world immediately outside myself needs to reflect what I am trying to attain within myself. Simplicity in life is an outward expression of simplicity within. One's "within" and "without" go together. And now we can see more clearly why our current economic world can easily become an enemy of silence. The pursuit of silence eventu-ally becomes a pursuit of simplicity of life--which is a recognizable enemy to a consumer economy, a global and ever expanding mar-ket economy. Not that the market is evil; it is just easy prey to the pretension that it alone is important, the be-all and end-all of human life. The practices of silence, solitude, and simplicity enable us to see the truth about economic pursuits: How inhumane they can be when given priority in life, how grounded in greed they become! Kinds of Silence There are a variety of silences.6 Silence can be either destruc-tive or constructive.7 Destructive silence is refusing to speak when a word is called for, a word of consolation, of affection, of chal-lenge. Destructive silence can be passive aggression, a refusal to participate, a lack of care, a form of punishment, unconscionable noncommunication. But silence as context for an interior journey is positive. Silence as a socia! context is the absence of noise in our imme-diate environment. There are different degrees of environmental silence. A noiseless environment is difficult to find in modern Review for Religious urban settings. One can distinguish rural silences and urban silences. For someone unaccustomed to rural silences, the sound of the cricket or the howl of a coyote can be disturbing. There are sounds to which we have become accustomed and those to which we are not. Familiar sounds need not destroy environmen-tal silence, but can blend with it. There is a silent stillness to the vastness of nature: the sounds and silence of the ocean, the moun-tains, the desert, the plains. Each is a different environment and a different silence. On a windless day, sitting atop one of the mountain peaks of the Sangre de Cristo range near Christ in the Desert Monastery in northern New Mexico, one can hear an almost Human silence absolute environmental silence. Human silence is the presence of nonspeech, call be a silence It is not necessarily noncommunication or non-of solitude, communitarian. Silence itself can communicate abundantly, and it is amazing what can be corn- but it can also be municated without words. Human silence can be a silence of solitude, but it can also be commu- communitarian. nitarian. A solemn silence can prevail in Christian or Buddhist monasteries or a Hindu ashram, in a synagogue, church, or mosque. These settings or "environments" can be sacred space. There are times and places when human speech is out of place or out of season. Human silence can be community silence, but there is also personal silence. An individual person can cultivate silence--by seeking environmental silence, or sacred space, or solitude, but also by the practice of silence: avoiding unnecessary speech, c~eating personal space, the silence of one's own room, withdrawing to "the cell within," lis-tening to music, allowing absorption in art and beauty, acquiring an inner stillness and the practice of meditation. Personal silence itself is not only oriented toward calm, tran-quillity, and an absence of stress, but ultimately toward interior silence, the silencing of the mind, even if this is rare or only momentary. I remember a conversation with a cloistered Dominican nun, who had a doctorate and had been teaching before joining this cloistered contemplative community. When I asked why she had joined the monastery, she replied, "I needed to stop thinking if I was going to start praying." The human being is a reflective being, but also a contemplative being that sometimes needs to move beyond thoughts (mental silence) as well as wordsv-~z-~'~---)-'[-i November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence (verbal silence). The interior journey is in fact directed toward this deep silence within, this cave of the heart, this still point, this soul of the soul, this human spirit. Spiritual silence is the human spirit at peace, the silence of the spirit in its communion with the Spirit of God, the divine Spirit, the Holy Spirit. This is mystical silence, with its dark nights, its ecstatic joy, its calm recollection, its deep rest. Silence of any sort is most often not constant, but periodic, coming at intervals, having a rhythm of its own. Deep silence, mystical silence, is not an achievement but a grace. Thus one can speak of the grace of silence, a grace that is present in varied ways and at varied levels, exteriorly and interiorly: the prayer of silence, the silent Presence, the Holy Mystery. It is this mystery that we cel-ebrate in liturgy and seek in contemplation. We experience litur-gical silence, a pastoral silence, intimate silences, times and places not to speak, for which words are inappropriate, occasions on which only silence can communicate. Silence can communicate from within a depth beyond words. In community, in friendship, in ministry, and in prayer there must be silence as well as speech. Divine silence is God's very own silence, God's very own self-communication, God's' awesome and incomprehensible transcen-dence, God's overwhelming intimate immanence, God's elusive presence and mysterious absence, God's truth and God's beauty, the Nameless One whose name is Father, Son, and Spirit, the One- Who-Is, the One-Who-Is-With-Us, the silence of being, the sound of ore, the soundlessness of communion, the union of God and humanity, the union of Word and flesh, the triune union, the incor-poration of humanity into the silent triunity of its Creator. There is ultimately no distinction between divine Silence and divine Speech. They are one 'and the same. God's speech is silent, and God's silence speaks. Silence and Theology .The practice of silence is necessary not only for the spiritual journey and to sustain our humanity. It is also essential for doing theology. Theologians are accountable for their theology to their professional peers, to their varied communities of faith, and to society at large for the quality, fidelity, and social implications of their work. They cannot absolve themselves of this threefold responsibility. But the theologian is also accountable to God. One Review for Religious does not stand before the Holy Mystery, the mysterium fascinans et tremendum, without asking the Holy Spirit for courage, guid-ance, and wisdom. In other words, all theology must begin with prayer. It has both a reflective moment and a contemplative moment. It is not an ego project, but a work of the Spirit. Theology cannot be done apart from silence. The practice of silence, of placing oneself in the presence of God, of meditation, of listening, of longing are all part of doing theology. Theology can too easily become words, verbal batdes, polemic, agenda ridden, jargon, rather than revelatory, illuminating, con-nected to life, committed to Truth. This happens when theolo-gians neglect the practice of contemplative silence--which would make them aware of both the inadequacy and the necessity of words for communicating the divine mystery. A theologian needs to be practiced in the art of silence. So does the magisterium in the church need to practice it. "Roma locuta est," the saying goes. But think of the symbolic power in "Roma tacuit." What a wonderful example that could be. Magisterial authority must reflect that we are a learning church as well as a teaching church. Is not part of the crisis over author-ity the ways in which the church exercises its authority? We do not grant authority easily to those who do not listen. Silence gives value to words. Apart from words, silence can be sterile, but apart from silence words lose their power. As Ecclesiastes (3:7) says, "There is a time for keeping silence, a time for speaking." Silence is a work of the Spirit. True silence is ulti-mately prayer. It speaks with authority. It communicates truth. It creates community. It is the voice of the soul, of the human spirit, and of the Holy Spirit. Can we afford to allow its practice to become peripheral in our lives? In The Sleeping Beauty, Ralph Harper points to the value of silence for our world: Each order of experience has its own a.tmosphere. The atmo-sphere of presence, of giving, of wholeness, is silence. We know that serious things have to be done in silence, because we do not have words to measure the immeasurable. In silence people love, pray, listen, compose, paint, write, think, suffer. These experiences are all occasions of giving and receiving, of some encounter with forces that are inex-haustible and independent of us. These are easily distin-guishable from our routines and possessiveness as silence is distinct from noise.8 November-December 2000 Goergen ¯ Retrieving the Practice of Silence Not only nuns and monks, but all of us need to retrieve the art and practice of silence. We need to dip deeply into the silent abyss of self, of God, of God in the self and the self in God, We need to explore the emptiness and the fullness that lie within us. We need silence. Notes 1 Abhishiktananda, "The Upanishads and Advaitic Experience," in The Further Shore (New Delhi: I.S.P.C.K., 1984), p. 117. 2 Buddhist traditions also see a triple relationship: compassion, rooted ¯ in egolessness, which in turn is rooted in mindfulness. These three are intimately connected. See Sogyal Rinpoche, The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying (San Francisco: Harper, 1992), esp. pp. 59-72, 116-122, 188-201. 3 The first lines of "The Hound of Heaven." 4 Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Life Together (New York: Harper and Row, Publishers, 1954), esp. pp. 76~89. "Let him who cannot be alone beware of community. Let him who is not in community beware of being alone. ¯. The mark of solitude is silence, as speech is the mark of community. Silence and speech have the same inner correspondence and difference as do solitude and community. One does not exist without the other. Right speech comes out of silence, and right silence out of speech. Silence does not mean dumbness, as speech does not mean chatter. Dumbness does not create solitude and chatter does not create fellowship" (p. 78). s See Catherine of Siena: The Dialogue, trans. Suzanne Noffke OP (New York: Paulist Press, 1980), on the "cell of self-knowledge," pp. 25, 118, 122, 125, 135, and 158. 6 Theodore Pereira in "Eloquence in Silence, Healing in Stillness," Indian Theological Studies 33 (June 1996): 99-126, has written about different types of silences. 7 "Silence itself is expressed in several ways. We know silences of contempt and of joy, of pain and of pleasure, of consent and of solitude." Jean-Luc Marion, God without Being (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991), pp. 53-54. ~ Ralph Harper, The Sleeping Beauty (London: Harvill Press, 1955), pp. 110-111. The word "men" in the original was changed to "people" to accommodate current usage. Review for Religious KENNETH C. RUSSELL The Dangers of Solitude ~o~e~oe ldi!a nTgheerrse oisf as ololintugd tera. dAitniodn t hoef wwaarrnniinngg sw hoauvlde- bneo th ceormmiets solely from cenobites suspicious of solitaries off doing "their own thing." Religious who have the highest regard for the blessings and joys of the life of aloneness with God have tempered their enthusiasm with cautionary words about the special difficulties the solitary is likely to encounter. Thomas Merton, for example, warns that "sordid difficulties and uncertainties" attend .the life of even interior solitude,l Authors from the first centuries of the church conjure up frightening pictures of the demons who lie in wait for the unsuspecting hermit, while modern writers warn newcomers to the desert that solitude will force them to confront the disturbing image of their true self. The message is clear: more awaits the novice hermit than the beauties of nature and the spiritual delights which ancient and contemporary enthusiasts of the eremitical life tend to emphasize. I suppose that most contemporary solitaries would agree that demons in one guise or another must be wrestled with and that it can, indeed, be a distressing experience to come face to face with the self we usually avoid in a flurry of activity. However, I also suspect that most hermits are somewhat amused by both the modern and the ancient depiction of their lot. They would be only too happy to confess that there are no monsters writhing in the Kenneth C. Russell last wrote for our March-April 2000 issue. His address remains 40 Landry Street, Apt. 1505; Vanier, Ontario; K1L 8K4 Canada. November-December 2000 E5-7-5 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude corners of their huts and that the identity crisis so precious to their contemporaries does not keep them awake nights. What they actually confront, it seems, is a routine cycle of sun and cloud on a prairie stretching clear to the horizon. There are no mountains or valleys to speak of. Their bad days are as unremarkable as their good ones. They struggle against subtle temptations, not spectacular ones. It has always been so. The 12th-century Cistercian Aelred of Rievaulx recognized this in his hard-hitting Letter to a Recluse, addressed to his elderly sister but written with less seasoned solitaries in mind? So did his contemporaries Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes, who wrote shorter and less theologically dense letters to male recluses who had asked their advice.3 Twelfth-century recluses lived in circumstances that are quite different from those in which most modern hermits seek solitude. But this does not mean that the letters of Peter and Bernard are merely quaint witnesses to a bygone era. The basics of the eremitical life are constant across the centuries. They are also unaffected by the way in which different solitaries choose to live the eremitical life. Whether the solitary is a recluse, a hermit, or a homeless wanderer like Benedict Joseph Labre does not radically modify the eremitical life. Consequently the letters Peter and Bernard wrote to 12th-century male monastic recluses remain relevant to male and female solitaries of all kinds, even today. Indeed, it seems to me that their practical orientation makes them especially useful. Therefore, I want to focus on the difficulties these authors see arising when the honeymoon period of the eremitical life--which may last a good long time--is finally over. In highlighting some of the minor difficulties which can grow into major problems if not attended to, it is not my intention to present a negative view of the solitary life. It does have dark days; it would not be a human enterprise if it did not. However, in focusing on the gray periods, I am not denying its spells of fine weather. I am merely reiterating the warning uttered down the centuries that people who wander off into the desert on their own had better know what they are about. Peter the Venerable's Letter to Ghislebert Peter the Venerable, the great abbot of Cluny, was, by his own admission, a very busy man. In fact, he shocks us a bit by admitting that he read the letters from a Cluniac recluse named Ghislebert in Review for Religious his choir stall on Holy Saturday. He claims that he had simply not been able to find a moment to read them earlier. Peter may have been rushed, but he nevertheless knew something about the eremitical life. Not only did he himself periodically spend time in solitude, but he had pastoral experience in directing monks who sought a solitary retreat for a limited period or for life. There were actually a large number of hermits living in the woods near Cluny. Peter the Venerable, then, knew what he was talking about when he replied to Ghislebert's request for guidance. The key to Peter's advice is the emphasis he puts on the idea that, as a recluse, Ghislebert has been buried with Christ. We do not know the nature of the liturgical ceremony with which Ghislebert was committed to his cell, but other sources indicate that the idea of being buried with Christ and dead to the world was sometimes dramatically represented by using funeral rites to initiate such enclosure. In any case, Peter emphasizes that, if his effort to live as a recluse is going to succeed, Ghislebert had better be sure that he is indeed dead to the world and the world dead to him. To drive home the point, Peter quotes the desert father Arsenius: "Flee people, be silent, and you will be saved." In short, be what you have set out to be and all will be well. Although we may feel a little ill-at-ease with the medieval idea of the recluse being rather literally buried with Christ, it is obvious that any new solitary needs to make a definitive break with the world and his or her past to get off to a good start. He or she has to be serious about being marginal. But, for all the images of being cut off and buried, the reality is that a living human being goes into the desert. He or she wants to be there, of course, but the spiritual and especially the psychological conditioning to solitude is not achieved by a mere act of will. The hermit, in fact, begins with some interior dividedness. Part of the self has no interest in disappearing. Inevitably the life force will rise up against the isolation and denial of achievement that the solitary life demands. Hermits also soon discover, as the Carthusian Guigo II puts it, that they are a crowd unto themselves. They are, indeed, the doorway through which the world presses into the cell. They may succeed in finding a quiet spot on the sidelines of society, but the Hermits soon discover that they are a crowd unto themselves. November-December 2000 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude internal vacuum created by their withdrawal makes them vulnerable to the imagination's readiness to reassert their right to a place in the world. Since hermits have what we might term a "weak" present, the mind tends to take refuge in either the past or the future. Bernard of Portes will highlight the way in which the past crowds into the hermit's mind. Peter the Venerable puts more emphasis on the daydreams about the future which exploit the hermit's status to draw him away from his solitude. He pictures the monk turned hermit imagining that he feels the tabs of a bishop's miter on the back of his necl~ or fantasizing that he is the wise, holy, and much admired abbot of a large monastic community. This is all nonsense, of course, and surely most beginners are as amused by the tricks the imagination plays as Peter the Venerable is. What is not funny is that these silly thoughts can trouble prayer. It is also true, unfortunately, that small threads can weave themselves into strong ropes. If hermits are not careful, they can convince themselves that they are made for something better than the sorry life of a solitary. A more serious pressure to "return from the dead" and reenter the hustle and bustle of.life, bit by bit, springs from the essential nature of the solitary existence. Hermits have to live without the external momentum that social interaction usually provides. They are not carried along by the excitement of what is going on at their workplace, nor can they look forward to parties or sports events to distract them. Unfortunately, unless solitaries maintain their focus on whatever is the task of the moment, their day-to-day existence will begin to feel dull and wearisome. The obvious way to relieve this lethargy is for the solitary to engage in a small amount of pastoral or counseling activity. This sounds like a psychologically sound idea, especially to modern Christians, who are more than a little suspicious of the way hermits pull away from the good causes "activists" think so important. Peter the Venerable, however, is not so sure. He is afraid that this public ministry will become addictive. Instead of relieving the hermits' boredom so that they can return to the solitary life refreshed, each turn outward makes solitude all the more unbearable and the turn away from it all the easier. What looks like a solution to the pressures of the eremitical regime can destroy a hermit's ability to live the solitary life. "Doing good" can do a hermit in. A second consequence of the turn outward is that the solitaries' Review for Religious availability attracts people who offer two enticing things: prestige and cash. Since the strict eremitical life deprives hermits of the ordinary opportunities to see themselves mirrored in the reaction of others, Peter the Venerable rightly fears that Ghislebert will take the high esteem in which he is held by those he helps as the true measure of his worth. The abbot sees a further danger in the money that the hermit will be offered for his services. With all the good intentions in the world, Ghislebert can easily find himself managing a little charitable fund which will grow, as such things do, until, as Peter puts it, he is putting up buildings and demolishing himself. Peter's point would seem to be that hermits who are not perfectly honest about their motivations can make a place for themselves in the world. They can keep an address in the woods, as it were, and still be part of society. The price they pay, unfortunately, is the abandonment of their original commitment. History offers many examples which confirm that the hardest thing in the world for solitaries is actually to be what they profess to be. Aelred of Rievaulx was very hard on the way in which solitaries drift into outside activities. He sharply admonished them to wake up to the facts of their vocation. "When you are pressured to get involved: Tu sede, tu tace, tu sustine. Sit still, keep quiet, and stick it out! Period! Leave the doing of good deeds to those who .have the responsibility for such tasks." The solitary's fundamental temptation, it seems, is to focus on something other than God. According to Peter, this can be anything from good works to an obsession with health or appearance. "Doing good" can do a hermit in. Bernard of Portes's Letter to Rainald The Carthusian Bernard of Portes agrees with Peter the Venerable that solitaries need to be on guard against the distractions that are likely to entice them away from their fundamental commitment. He is particularly sensitive, however, to the spiritual and psychological repercussions of the hermit's withdrawal from society. He understands very well that the social self will not go lightly into solitude. Though hermits are united to all believers and, indeed, all humanity in their union with Christ in his church, the social self wants to strut its stuff in the midst of the diversions November-December 2000 Russell * The Dangers of Solitude Hermits do not have the social status they enjoyed in the 12th century. of the marketplace. It does not want to be shut away with not much more than God to focus on. Therefore, Bernard warns Rainald that he must expect a spell of bad weather sooner or later. One day he might be hit by a wave of sadness and the next be in a bad mood and irritable. He will find tapes from his past running in his head while he reedits the script of what he said and did. A troupe of lewd thoughts will stage its floor show one day, and lukewarnmess flood in the next. It seems that there is no escape from these inner storms and flat stretches. Indeed, Bernard maintains that hermits go into the desert specifically t6 wrestle with these elements that distract us from God. They are, we might say, the psychological echoes of a hermit's attachment to the world he or she claims to have renounced. Bernard of Portes warns hermits that, because they are no longer carried along by the current of daily life in society, they will be the targets of acedia and sadness. Acedia, a listless psychospiritual condition, weighs so heavily on its victims that some escape from the boredom o'f the here and now into dreams of what has been and might yet be while others slip into the torpor of chronic fatigue. This affliction, which involves a hanging back from the initial vocational commitment and a failure to actualize it in the present moment, "detemporalizes" hermits. It weakens their focus on the here and now and sets them adrift. Therefore they look outward for things to occupy their mind and fill their time. Bernard says it is very important for hermits to give their life a certain self-generated dynamism by moving from one activity to another th~'oughout the day. Oddly enough, this is in accord with the traditional wisdom that the secret of the eremitical life is "Keep it moving." Bernard also emphasizes meditation and advises Rainald to be totally present to the words he is saying when he recites the Office. Bernard, it is quite clear, believes that acedia can be held at bay if a hermit puts his or her mind to it and lives in the present moment. Sadness, however, is another matter. Bernard seems convinced that an occasional period of feeling down is an inescapable feature of the eremitical life. Sadness is, I suppose, a pit into which an Review for Religious individual ill-suited for solitude might tumble, but this does not seem to be what Bernard has in mind. He is describing, not a chronic or pathological condition, but the normal downturns of life--which the hermit feels more intensely because of his or her isolation. On the spiritual level, the alternation of these strong and weak periods is inevitable in view of the ebb and flow of God's grace. If acedia pulls one away from the present, sadness can be said to sink one into it. Sadness is the clouding over of the eternal horizon of hope which draws us forward. Without the attraction of the ultimate goal--which is, remember, the sole dynamic element in a hermit's life--the individual is oppressed by the miseries of the present. For no good reason, anger can well up in the solitary and rail away at the self or other people: "Nothing they do is ever any good, and nothing I try ever works out!" Such slack times call for patience, because, once again, the temptation is to shift attention away from God and the love that is his due. The self, whether proud or inadequate, whether much sought after or neglected, must not become the primary object of the hermit's attention. Application to Modern Hermits Is any of this applicable to modern hermits living in country cabins and cheap city apartments? I think so. Times have certainly changed, but the leisure of the hermit can still go flat, and money remains a worrisome issue. Unlike their 12th-century counterparts, modern hermits do not have to figure out how to channel their excess funds to the poor without attracting a crowd of beggars, but they do have to worry about how to live apart from the world and still earn their keep. Unless they are supported by a religious congregation or order, paying their bills and providing some measure of stability in an unsettled time can be a real preoccupation. Indeed, it can shipwreck their project altogether. Pride, which Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes see as a major threat to hermits, would seem to be less of a worry these days. Solitaries are looked up to once again, but the applause is not unanimous. In fact, many people who give their lives to the service of Christ and his poor question the sense of such a calling. Certainly hermits do not have the social status they enjoyed in the 12th century. In any case, while many religious who become November-December 2000 Russell ¯ The Dangers of Solitude With no one else to worry about, they can become obsessed with every ache. solitaries identify themselves as hermits, most lay hermits have no official status of any kind. They live a hidden life which is just that, hidden. The lack of social status does not mean, of course, that hermits are immune to the temptation to take a little secret pride in the uniqueness of their calling. Pride, however, does not seem to be the great danger it was to hermits in the Middle Ages. Certainly relevant today, however, is the emphasis Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes put on the need for the hermit to exist in the now. This almost Buddhist focus on being present to the moment is for both of them basic to the eremitical life. Without this absorption in the here and now, distractions press in. The hermit, to borrow a phrase from the world of sports, "loses his or her concentration" on the worship of God in unending prayer. This is a major problem, but, given the restrictions of the solitary life, it manifests itself in small and sometimes silly ways. For example, hermits may get too wrapped up in their work or turn repairs to their dwelling into a full-scale redecorating project. They can become finicky fussbudgets who insist that every item in their cell be lined up just so. Worse yet, with no one else to worry about, they can become obsessed with every ache and sniffle. What are we to make of Peter the Venerable's condemnation of the tendency of hermits to make themselves useful to their fel-low Christians by offering them the fruit, as it were, of their con-templative silence? Must we conclude that he, and Bernard as well, would censure the spiritual direction and parish activities in which some contemporary hermits get involved? Not necessarily. In their letters both authors emphasize--and we must keep in mind that they were writing to recluses, that is, to solitaries who in theory were totally cut off from the world--that the singularity of the eremitical life means that hermits will have to work out what is best for them. Therefore, while Bernard borrows from the cus-toms of the Carthusians to make all kinds of suggestions to Rainald about the details of his life, he realizes that it is up to the hermit to exercise discretion in choosing what suits him. Consequently, we can conclude that, although Peter and Bernard show that it is easy for hermits to delude themselves about why they are rendering this or that occasional service, it is up to them to determine, after Review for Religious taking counsel, what fosters their aloneness with God and what hinders it. I suspect that there are times when novice solitaries, going through a dark period, might welcome the sight of a few demons raising cain in their living room. They might even be glad to summon up the self-absorption required for the drama of a first-class identity crisis. Anything exciting and novel would be a relief. What they have to contend with, however, day in and day out, as Peter and Bernard remind them, is the subtle task of remaining faithful to their original commitment in all kinds of psychological weather. They have much to gain and much to lose. Peter the Venerable and Bernard of Portes, who shared a high regard for the solitary life, warn them, therefore, to take care. Notes ' Thomas Merton, "Notes for a Philosophy of Solitude," in his Disputed Questions (New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 1960; Noonday Book, 1976), p. 165. 2 A Rule of Life for a Recluse, trans. Mary Paul MacPherson, in The Works of Aelred of Rievaulx, Vol. 1: Treatises, The Pastoral Prayer, Cistercian Fathers Series, no. 2 (Spencer, Massachusetts: Cistercian Publications, 1971). 3 Neither the letter of Peter the Venerable to Ghislebert nor Bernard of Portes's letter to Rainald has, as far as I know, been translated into English. The Latin text and a French translation of Bernard's letter can be found in Lettres des premiers chartreux, Vol. 2, introduction, critical text, French translation, and notes by "un chartreux" (Sources chr~tiennes, no. 274; Paris: Cerf, 1980), pp. 50-79. For the Latin text of Peter's letter, see Giles Constable, The Letters of Peter the Venerable, Vol. 1 (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1967), pp. 27-41. November-December 2000 MARY BETH MOORE A Spiritual Direction Connie drew the heavy drape across the window, noting the ast gray light filtering from the west. She turned on a small lamp on one side of the room and lit the vanilla candle at the other. Immediately its aroma permeated the small space. She selected a Mozart disc from the handful of CDs near the love seat, placed it carefully on the turntable, pressed play, and adjusted the volume so that the maestro's graceful, precise notes were barely audible, as subtle as the candle. She paused, looking slowly to each corner until satisfied by the atmosphere she had created. Free of clutter, the parlor was just large enough for the love seat, chair, and coffee table. She sat down on the chair. Connie never sat until she was satisfied. She was a short, heavy woman and, since it was not easy for her to get out of a chair, she considered the act of getting into it. She had a few moments before her guest arrived, and this time was also planned. The guest or, more precisely, the directee required the kind of attention one must work up to. So she made an effort to appreciate the room for its own sake. She awaited the security these preparations usually brought. She summoned the attitude of inner peace which any directee had a right to expect of her, breathing deeply, ignoring the slight pulse in her legs, ankles, even noting the contradiction between attending to a pleas-ant carnal sensation--the candle--and determinedly shutting out the unpleasant. She made herself breathe. Connie had been a spiritual director for almost twenty years, Mary Beth Moore SC writes from 3496 Jerusalem Avenue; Wantagh, New York 11793. Review for Religious and people liked her. She had talent in this abstruse area, and she knew this because her directees said so. Most of her clients were nuns, participants in a lifestyle whose subtle conflicts she knew as her own, having been a nun now for forty years. Relationships: community, friends, principals, superiors. Even, occasionally, a romantic entanglement. And, of course, the relationship with God. Connie never told them what to do. She listened. She asked ques-tions. She recalled for the searcher his or her own best qualities. (Yes, even the occasional priest or layman found his way to her.) Generosity. Loyalty. Courage. Connie never mi~de these things up. Yes, that was the talent. Seemingly from thin air, she would recall a point the directee had made two months before, or ask precisely the right question. "What must you do to grow in this sit-uation?" The question was perhaps trite, but the answers never were. Stammering or articulate, passionate or cool, the directee usually responded with a perfectly credible plan of action, one whose truthfulness went to the heart of the matter. She had learned to expect the creativity that her directees brought with them. Still, Connie did not consider herself creative. She thought of herself as a modest person, and attributed the results to God's grace. When she looked in the mirror, she saw a face that had always been plain, and was now old. Of course, Connie had not once seen her own brown eyes transformed with the glow of the full attention she gave to the directees. They simply thanked her. She expected nothing more. At the sound of the doorbell, Connie took hold of the chair arms and, giving herself a boost, stood and steadied herself before crossing the short distance to the front door. She was pleasantly nervous for this encounter with her client, and she hurried as much as she could, knowing how uncomfortable it was to wait at her door. The Bronx brownstone faced southeast toward the Sound and Long Island, and through the winter a stiffwind blew almost steadily. She opened the door to see a petite woman framed against the dark corridor of the street, hopping around on the stoop to cope with the cold. The sky behind her was clear, but dark. The city lights obliterated all but the highest-hung stars. "Marilyn, my dear, come in quickly before the wind knocks you down." "It almost did. I parked a block away, and--" "Did you meet much traffic?" Connie took Marilyn's coat and shivered at the cold that rolled off of it. November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction "Som'e, as usual. The Cross Bronx is always crowded." "Oh, that's a terrible road. I always feel glad when I turn off. A cup of tea before we start?" "I would love it, if it's no trouble. It sounds so good." "No trouble at all. Go in and make yourse.lf comfortable. I'll be right back." She indicated the room she had just prepared, and waited to be sure her guest was seated before disappearing into the inner quarters to make tea. She returned with a tray and two steaming cups. They were silent as they fixed the tea to their lik-ing. Part of Connie's skill was to suppress small talk as the pre-lude to spiritual direction. Chatter cluttered the spirit, she believed. She had once lived as a hermit for three months, and the disci-pline served her well. After a suitable interval she moved to her cus-tomary opener. "So, tell me, what brings you to spiritual direction?" "Ah, yes. Well, I have the intuition, this notion. It haunts me and I feel almost, I don't know, maybe, embarrassed to share it. Or even ashamed--though maybe that is too strong a word. I've tried to discuss it, get a hold, but I." Connie listened as the other woman stuttered, and felt a tug of compassion. She leaned ever so slightly toward her, her eyes widening to lend support to the recitation. A sexual problem per-haps. Everything supposedly out in the open these days, but the unique turns of the human heart, and the struggle to articulate them! She waited. ". this notion, and others don't want to hear, or maybe can't hear. Almost a conviction actually." "A conviction that ." Connie was poised, waiting for the other to look up. "I don't want to offend you, as well. But I suppose it's foolish to come and beat around the bush. You see--" "'I assure you, my dear, I won't be offended. I'm eager to hear what you have to say." "A conviction that it's over. Over, over, over." Connie frowned, noted the slightest wave of impatience with the conversation's turn. "You'll have to tell me what 'it' is, I think." "This." She spread her hands as if her meaning should be obvi-ous, indicating the candle, the lamp, and Connie herself with thrusts of her chin. "Convents. Middle-aged women living in polite little groups, good-hearted, but accommodated. Comfortable. Convents, parlors, single beds, obsessive neatness, vanilla candles. Over." Review for Religious "Leave my candle out of it, at least," Connie said, more emphatically than she had intended. She was offended, but she did not realize it quite yet. "O.K. Your candle may be spared." Marilyn grinned. "But as for the other elements, well, the writing is on the wall." "Nebuchadnezzar? A kingdom about to fall?" Connie tried to get her bearings. The other's hesitancy had disappeared, her voice got stronger by the sentence, and Connie began to think that her earlier, tentative approach might have been a ploy. "Yes. That's exactly right, Connie. The humble kingdom we built for ourselves that did so much good. Children we taught, sick we nursed. It was a world in itself, a kingdom if you will. We had a place in a religiosity that was shared by Catholics every-where. In that Catholic world, we had a mystique of holiness, otherness. We were a cheap labor pool. Now others can do what we did, without living a special way of life." She took deep breath while Connie waited with alarm. "I believe our lifestyle is ending." Buy time. That was Connie's second idea, after the first one, something like, who do you think you are? Who are you, sup-posedly asking me for help, boldly upending a tradition? One that needs no defense. "I must keep eye contact," she thought. "Marilyn, too, is a committed religious, sincere, middle-aged, a seeker like myself." She was unused to such a strong emotion that was not compassion. She focused with effort. "Fall back on tech-nique," she urged herself. When she finally spoke, her voice was light. "Well, that's radical, for sure. Possibly a bit reductive. I'll need some time to take in the idea. But, in any case, you know that spir-itual direction does not provide answers. Why don't you tell me about your prayer. What's happening there?" "Connie, don't you see? That is what's happening. I pray, but I feel afraid. This sense of winding down . . . it, it assaults me. This is the result of my reading the signs of the times. And, very selfishly, I wonder what will happen to us. I'd actually like some-body to refute me." "'Prayer is the balance of mind and heart. Perhaps you think too much." November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction "Prayer is the balance of mind and heart. Perhaps you think too much." "Oh, maybe. It's just when I have an insight I always think it's correct. I'm not pious, either." Marilyn's voice had softened. Connie saw that she had heard her words as a correction, as in fact they had been. She had men-tioned fear, a key word in Connie's work, the rope binding the spirit, an adversary of growth. Usually Connie would have asked about it, but this evening it suddenly seemed like too much trou-ble. She was impatient, her back began to ache. She sought for a middle ground. "Or perhaps I think too little. You're a challenge to me, and I'm not sure if I can be as objective as I like. Can you"--she searched for the way back to Marilyn's point--"can you stay with the questions?" She got a little stronger. "Ride the questions." Marilyn thrust out her chin, as if shg regarded the question as an object in the room. There was a pulse of silence. "Yeah. That's a good idea." She smiled and looked at Connie with a glint of humor. "Good luck. I'll pray with you." There was a notable pause, and Connie sighed before turn-ing to topics of lesser import. Her back pain was easing, and she felt relieved that the conversation had returned to a manageable place. She was no coward. She had borne others' tears and rage at God. But a messy squabble with herself as partner was not at all congenial. She had put the balance back. She would pray with and for Marilyn. Both were careful to refrain from gossip in the spiritual-direc-tion setting; the set of those who chose such support was small, and many knew each other. Still, there were allowable facts--some-one's new job, an elderly sister's passing. And, after the intense discussion of the inner life, it was consoling to take in the mellow light and the full attention, each from the other. When they had finished the tea, and the candle wax threatened to spill on the table top, Marilyn moved to go. Connie helped her with her coat, saw her out into the cold air. The street was quieter now and a single star, maybe a planet, winked above the streetlights. She closed the door and went back to her direction room to turn off the light and blow out the candle. The wax had leaked onto the table into a viscous pool. "Ride the question," she repeated softly aloud to herself. She had been pleased to hit upon a phrase Revie~v for Religious that seemed to help her directee, but, as she turned it over in her mind now, looking at the empty room, it sounded trite, facile. The dialogue with Marilyn echoed in her mind, and a sensation rip-pled quickly, like the hint of an unpleasant duty she could not quite remember. She stepped away from the room with unusual haste and headed for the community recreation room and her favorite TV program. When Connie got to the community room, Sarah was watch-ing a public TV program--something about endangered species-- with the intensity of a graduate student. While she made eye contact with Connie, she held up a forefinger to postpone conversation until the program seg-ment ended. Connie sank into the chair and waited. She did not mind. It was more inter-esting to observe Sarah than to watch the parade of facts on the screen. She could easily see in the woman the ardent girl she had taught thirty years before, and, in her unsettled state of mind, that girl seemed to inhabit the room again. Sarah's field was biology, and she brought her expertise along with boundless energy to a nonprofit agency that monitored the environ-ment. Connie studied her with detached affec-tion. What was it that made Sarah so interesting? The combination of ambition and idealism, thought Connie. She was the perfect nun for our time. Connie mused about the effect of her own ministry. She had joined Sarah and the others in the brownstone house the year she finished her term as novice director. It had been her initiative to work free-lance in spiritual direction, and the community con-firmed' her choice. Her clients found her by word of mouth. She spent her day much as she had with the novices, in a disciplined but unhurried rhythm of prayer, study, and client appointments. It was Sarah who persuaded Connie to get a paying job two years ago. Some of the sisters in her own house had argued against it, but Sarah persisted. She pointed out to Connie that she com-plained about being the one to answer telephone solicitations and wait for plumbers. Sarah, the realist, reminded the community that their income base was shrinking, since the elderly sisters far outnumbered the younger wage-earners. Connie began to mind She could see in the woman the ardent girl she had taught thirty years before. November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction not having even a modest paycheck to present for the running of the house, and the quota for the retired sisters' care. The only thing she did not tell Sarah and the others was that she was tired of not having tales to "tell at supper about the outside world they inhabited each day. What could she say about spiritual direction? In that field there were no general issues, no little anecdotes, to report, only secrets of the heart whose value was discovered as the directee conferred it. So Connie took a job as the secretary in a little Catholic school in the Bronx. She bolstered the idealistic young man who was prin-cipal and lent an ear to the parents who rushed through with for-gotten lunches and umbrellas. She now had tales for the dinner table with the community, and savored even more the evenings of direction. She did not allow herself to miss the easy pace she had once enjoyed. She was often tired. She worried intermittently about losing weight, especially when Sarah inaugurated a new restric-tion in the community diet. She gave up insisting that they buy whole milk: it was not worth the commentary on cholesterol. But these were small .annoyances, predictable, familiar. If the occa-sional ache or pain pressed itself too deeply into her conscious-ness, her mind might leap to the future for a moment. But the pain subsided, or was integrated into what she chose to put up with. It was against her principles to measure herself by a worldly standard. She gazed at the TV for a bit, savoring the comfort of her (avorite chair until the program finished and Sarah pressed the mute button. "How was your day?" Connie asked. "Really productive," Sarah answered brightly. "I spent the morning editing that junior high 'natural city' curriculum. Jake did a great job with the project and I told him so. Then I had a meeting with the Friends of the Harbor committee. Giuliani's guy stopped in. Nice person actually, said he would continue to press our concerns with the mayor. He sounded sincere, but we'll keep the pressure on anyway. Peter was pleased." "Peter?" "Grossman, the earth sciences professor from Bronx Community College, that one who chairs--" "Oh yes, I remember him." Connie made it a point to keep up with the cast of cha[acters that peopled Sarah's offbeat job. "Did Jake's wife have the baby yet?" Review for Religious "Three days ago! I thought I'd told you. Mother and daugh-ter are doing fine." Sarah described the particulars of the birth in detail, then trained eager eyes on Connie. "How was your day?" Connie's mind returned to her session, where a seasoned nun had suggested that religious life would become a thing of the past. It was an abstract idea, after all. The common room she shared now with Sarah was perfectly real and stable. The house had been paid for. "Connie, your day?" Sarah's voice called her from her reverie. "Anything wrong?" "Wrong? Oh no." She hesitated. "Do you think about the future, Sarah? I mean our community. Do you think there will be nuns living in this house in twenty years? Youngish nuns, enthu-siastic like yourself, women who believe in prayer, the vows? Some of my directees"--she tried to be deliberately vague--"a few think our way of living is a thing of the past." Sarah frowned. "It could be, you know. Let's face it. No one has joined the community at all in the past five years, and those of us in it aren't getting any younger. It could be. But, hey, God our Mother will bring to birth something new. Birth, growth, decay, matter recycle into new growth. It's a universal process. Why should we escape it?" She reached for the TV wand."Do you want to watch anything else?" "You've thought about this?" "Oh, it crosses my mind now and again. Shall I turn this off?." Sarah waved the remote again. "Sure." Connie could see that Sarah was preparing to leave the community room, and a wave of desolation passed over her. She longed to call out, "Please don't go, yet," but she knew perfectly well such a request would startle Sarah. "She'd probably think I'm having some kind of attack," Connie thought. "What reason could I give for the need of her presence?" Nothing came to her. Sarah was at the door now, turning back, her gaze objective and ldnd. "You O.K., Connie?" "I'm just fine," Connie answered quickly. "Sufficient for the day is the trouble thereof." Sarah was satisfied. "Sleep well, then." "You too." Connie was alone now in the familiar room, and hothing could threaten her. Soon her strange moment of panic would pass, and she would move to her usual routine, fold back the newspaper, November-December 2000 Moore ¯ A Spiritual Direction enjoy the silence. She had an honorable job. She loved Sarah, and the others with whom she lived and shared an uncomplicated love of friendship. She scanned the headlines, then tossed them aside to read the Arts page, a book review, but she struggled to concen-trate. "Loneliness has no hold over me," she thought. Loneliness and solitude were the same companion in different dress, the bite of one and the consolation of the other alternating throughout her days. But the mood of release she sought at the end of the day still eluded her. She focused on the gratitude she must render for the events of the day, and recalled a grandmother who had come to the school to deliver a forgotten lunch. In her mind's eye she could see the weary black face transformed with smiles when the child hove into view. But, when the memory dimmed, a keen discomfort reasserted itself. She pushed through her rote evening prayer, "Now Lord you may dismiss your servant in peace, for my eyes have seen your sal-vation. A light of revelation to the Gentiles and a glory for your people Israel." Simeon, welcoming his life's end, having seen the object of his heart's desire. "He was lucky," she thought. The prayer did not seem to help at all. She turned off the light in the common room and made her way out by the light of the street lamp filtering through the blinds. She turned toward the kitchen. "A nice cup of tea," she thought. "It will clear my mind." She made the tea. She measured out her usual two spoonfuls of sugar, tasted it, then furtively added a third. She sipped it slowly and regarded the clock, whose subtle whine could be heard in the silence. "I tell my directees to face their fears. And so must I," Connie concluded. "What was it, then, old age?" But she dismissed this quickly. Maybe prettier, fitter women, yes, even nuns might struggle with this, but she had never known herself that way. She had long ago accommodated herself to aches and wrinkles. Nor was it fear of death. Not yet. Her mother, her aunts, stout women all, had lived into their nineties. "I probably have a few decades in me," she mused. What had Marilyn said? "It's over." That was the phrase that had ripped her, as if a web of equilibrium she hardly knew existed was torn, and its sundering had discovered a category of feeling she could not recognize. "Now, Lord, you may dismiss your servant in peace, because my eyes have seen your salvation." Simeon's words came back Review for Religious again, with the picture of the bearded sage, smiling and content, holding an infant whom he knew certainly to be the savior. Who did he think he was? "I'm jealous of him," she thought. And, since the habit of honesty was well established, Connie began to name the struggle. The child Simeon held had just been named Jesus, newly circumcised, accompanied by proud parents. She was jealous of Simeon's proximity, his luck to be in the right place at the right time. She was envious of the consolation of touch, the embrace that illuminated him, at once revealing the true iden-tity of the child. But most of all she was jealous of his certainty. As a young idealistic woman, and through all the vicissitudes of the years, she had fallen back on the certainty that she was doing God's will. And, just as the meeting with a newborn child had transformed Simeon from a bumbling old man into a prophet, so she had thought her lifestyle would transform her. She looked around the kitchen slowly, scrutinizing the cabi-nets, the fridge. Stalling. The fear she felt was not provoked by the encounter with Marilyn, but rather unmasked by it. Fear, raw fear, as when a young child is lost in a crowded arena. Connie placed both hands on the teacup and concentrated on the warmth that spread to her palms. She recalled, with effort, that she was an adult. But, slowly, understanding came to her. What was threatened was certainty and specialness. The fear in her belly suggested that she had bartered for those goods with the austerity of her lifestyle and her vows. Yet she herself had taught the basic truth of spiri-tual direction so many times: All that is not love must be rooted out. She could not blame anyone or anything external for her new situation. She sat thus at the kitchentable for a long while, and the tea, untouched, grew cold. By and by she simply admitted that an inner battle was just beginning; she might as well go to bed. Fear would come and go, and grief, too, must attend the process. She lay in bed, listening to the faint sounds of traffic, making an effort to yield to sleep in order to be ready for the next day. But, as she was poised on the mysterious shelf before consciousness falls away, a phrase floated up from the well of memory, a saying she would work with for months to come, "Though a bird be tied to earth by only a thread, still he cannot fly." November-December 2000 a witness response DENNIS j. BILLY Contemplative Religious Witness: A Redemptoristine Monastery At the end of each academic year, I leave my work at the Alphonsian Academy in Rome and spend the summer months as an author in residence at Mount St. Alphonsus, the Redemptorist retreat center in Esopus, New York. During my time there, one of the responsibilities I share with the other members of my community is to celebrate Eucharist at the nearby Redemptoristine monastery of Our Mother of Perpetual Help. This small community of contemplative nuns devotes itself to being what their 18th-century Neapolitan foundress, Maria Celeste Crostarosa (1696- 1755), called a "living memory" of the Holy Savior. My close contact with the sisters there has helped me appreciate more deeply the contemplative dimension of my own vocation. It has also helped me see the intimate relationship between the Redemptorist and Redemptoristine callings, two very different lifestyles-- one apostolic, the other contemplative--deeply devoted to a common charism of proclaiming "plentiful redemption" in Christ. Dennis J. Billy CSSR, a frequent contributor to this review, may be addressed at Accademia Alfonsiana; C.P. 2458; 00100 Roma; Italy. R~view for Religious Spousal Love As a community of women entirely dedicated to contemplation, the sisters at Perpetual Help Monastery maintain a spirit of separation but openness to the world around them. They follow the norms of papal enclosure as laid out in church law and interpreted by their Constitutions and Statutes, but do so with a keen sensitivity that their contemplative vocation places them at the very heart of the local church. In the spirit of Vatican Council II, they have also renewed their way of life to be more in keeping with the spirit and charism of their foundress. In doing so, they have attempted to adapt the contemplative life to the exigencies of North American culture while at the same time taking care to maintain the significant countercultural and eschatological witness that religious life in general and the contemplative life in particular seeks to convey. The result is a small but dedicated group of women religious whose lives are deeply immersed in the mystery of Christ and his body, the church. Verbi sponsa, the recent Vatican instruction on contemplative life and the norms of papal enclosure, describes cloistered nuns as becoming, with the Virgin Mary, "the 'living memory' of the church's spousal love" (§1). I could not read these words without thinking of the special meaning they would have for the Redemptoristines at Esopus and throughout the world. Mary's close.relationship to her Son places her in a position of humble service toward all who turn to her. "To Jesus through Mary" was the way St. Alphonsus de Liguori (1696- 1787) liked to express Mary's role in the economy of salvation. Everything she does is meant to lead us to a closer, more intimate relationship with her Son. Her loving and heartfelt fiat in Luke's Gospel reminds us that it could not be otherwise. Her response to the angel reveals a deep trust in God's trust in her. She became the Mother of God because of her spousal relationship with God, which was itself a gift from God to her and, through her, to all the world. When seen in this light, to be with Mary a "living memory of the church's spousal love" leads quite naturally (perhaps it would be better to say "supernaturally") to being a "living memory of the redeeming Christ." Each remembrance is a single dimension of a To be with Mary a "living memory of the church's spousal love". Ly-95---2 November-December 2000 Billy ¯ Contemplative Religious Witness much larger reality: you cannot have one without the other. Keenly aware of this connection, the Redemptoristines at Esopus proclaim their spousal love for their risen Lord at their daily Eucharist, where he eats with them, drinks with them, and caresses them with the gentle, calming breeze of his Spirit. A Eucharistic Community It is often said that something is not fully experienced until it is remembered. If this saying is true, then the Redemptoristines' desire to become a "living memory" of their Lord must foster a deeper experience of Jesus' presence in their hearts and in their midst. One need only consider the deep spirit of prayerfulness that fills their daily celebration of the Eucharist to see that this is so. These simple celebrations tap into the hidden life of contemplation going on in the deepest recesses of their hearts and reveal the height and depth and breadth of the paschal mystery. The daily Eucharist is the center of the sisters' lives. It immerses them in the mystery of God's love which their lives espouse and puts them in intimate contact with their risen Lord. The Eucharist reminds them of the "eucharistic quality" of the cloistered life itself (see Verbi sponsa, §3). Separation from the world enables the sisters to be present t6 the world on a much deeper level. It enables them to share not only in Jesus' life of kenotic self-offering, but also to join him in his eternal act of thanksgiving to the Father. This close connection between the Eucharist and the sisters' contemplative vocation touches the very heart of the redemptive mystery. It affirms Jesus' ongoing presence in their community and gives meaning to every dimension of their largely hidden life of prayer. The sisters' daily remembrance of Jesus is possible only because of Jesus' continual remembrance of them. They seek to be a living memorial to the living memorial he has left them in the Eucharist. They, more than anyone else I have met, take to heart Jesus' words "Do this in memory of me." In this light, life in the Redemptoristine cloister at Esopus takes on the threefold dimensions of banquet, sacrifice, and presence that characterize the mystery of every Eucharistic celebration. Being a "living memo~ry" of Jesus, in other words, means seeking to give nourishment to others (banquet) through a humble offering of self (sacrifice) in the name and in the company of Jesus, who is "Emmanuel, God wi~h us" (presence). The Review for Religious Eucharist, in other words, not only is the summit of their lives, but permeates everything they do. Without it, there is no way they could continue or even survive. From Death to Life I once had the occasion to experience this eucharistic quality of the sisters' lives in a profound and beautiful way. Sister Mary Regina, one of the sisters in the community, was nearing death after a long-drawn-out battle with cancer. This was happening at the very time I had been scheduled to lead the sisters in their annual ten-day retreat. After learning that Regina's death was drawing near, I fully expected the retreat to be canceled (or at least postponed), since the sisters' hearts were heavy with sorrow and their schedule was already overloaded by the "round the clock" attention Regina's condition demanded. I was ~urprised, therefore, to learn that the community wanted the retreat to go on, despite the added strain it would put on them. I was even more surprised (but also delighted) when, on the first day of the retreat, the prioress asked if it would be all right to celebrate Mass in the infirmary so that Regina could attend from her sickbed. That Eucharistturned out to be the last Regina would ever share in--at least on this side of death. The breaking of the bread took on special significance as we celebrated in the presence of one whose life was ebbing away. The nearness of death brought a special solemnity to our celebration. Regina's silence added depth to our words; her gaze, a quiet calm to our troubled, questioning hearts. The knowledge that she would not be with us much longer affected the way we prayed. Everyone in the room seemed to have one eye fixed on the Lord and the other one on her. And that was the way it should have been, the way the Lord himself wanted it. This was Regina's moment. With her community around her, she was free to be herself before her Lord. Firmly fixed on the host, her eyes told us in a quiet, nonverbal way that Jesus was with her in a way he had never been before. So it is, I believe, with all of us at or near the time of death. Each one of us must one day drink from the same cup. Now it was Regina's turn. Separation from the world enables the sisters to be present on a much deeper level. November-December 2000 Billy ¯ Contemplative Religious Witness Near the end of Mass, I looked around the room and experienced that sense of communion that can only come from hearts united by their common yearning for God. As my eyes moved from face to face, I could sense the pain that the community as a whole and each of its members was experiencing as a result of Regina's illness and imminent death. I could also sense the deep love that bound them to each other and, at this special moment, to Regina. In the midst of the sadness, my gratitude deepened and gave way to a deep sense of peace. The Lord was with us, and that was all that mattered. I closed my eyes and imagined myself in the upper room. The Heart of the Church Contemplatives, we are told, live at the very heart of the church. On this day I was grateful for this brief glimpse God had given me into the heart of a contemplative community. There the simple mysteries of life and death are recognized, pondered, and celebrated. There human existence is plumbed to its depths and experienced in all its wonder and heightened fragility. There the restlessness of the human heart forages in the darkness of divine mystery. There God is allowed to be God and is welcomed, however he chooses to come. Very few of us ai'e called to live as contemplatives in the heart of the church. Those who hear the call and respond to it often find that they have been driven to it by the relentless pursuit of a passionate divine Lover. Happiness would elude them anywhere else. Only there, in the cloister, can they give themselves exclusively to God with all their heart, mind, soul, and strength. Their hidden life behind their monastery walls is the visible reminder of what they have left behind--and journeyed into. So essential is it to the good of the whole that it recedes, almost by necessity, to the background of life's numerous surface activities. Like the heart itself, it is never seen, rarely heard, seemingly still, but always pumping. The heart, one might say, is an appropriate metaphor for monastic enclosure itself. Some of the most vital activity in the entire body takes place within the narrow, confining chambers of the heart. These otherwise empty cavities are formed by the inner contours of the heart's muscle fibers. The constant expansion and contraction of these tissues forces the blood through the chambers Review for Religious and creates enough pressure to make it flow throughout the rest of the body. In a similar way the empty spaces within the cloister are visibly shaped by the rules of monastic enclosure which, firm yet flexible, allow the life of the contemplative community to distinguish itself from the rest of Christ's body in order to perform for it a special function. Here the all-important apostolic dimension of the contemplative life comes to light. The contemplative community plumbs the depths of the Spirit so that the life of the Spirit may flow more freely to all the members of the body. Here the law of inverted magnitudes operates in full force. The contemplative community confines itself in time and space in order to open itself up to and move more deeply into the sacred. This simultaneous movement ("juxtaposition," if you will) of contraction and expansion is at the center of the contemplative experience. Although not everyone is called to live a life of monastic enclosure, all of us are called to foster a contemplative attihade toward life. For us to do so, this dynamic .movement of physical withdrawal and spiritual expansion must somehow come into play for each of us. Active and Contehaplative I began these reflections by stating that my contact with the Redemptoristine community at Esopus has given me a deeper appreciation of the contemplative dimension of my vocation as a Redemptorist, missionary. I also like to think that, in some way, the appreciation has been mutual, giving rise in them to a deeper sense of the apostolic dimension of their lives as contemplative religious. We share a single charism which, although expressed in drastically different lifestyles, brings to light the plentiful redemption wrought for us in the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. Contemplative religious, we have seen, live in the very heart of the church. The Redemptoristines, to my mind, do much the same for the apostolic mission of the Redemptorist congregation. Both orders, after all, share common origins and embrace the same motto: Copiosa apud eum redemptio ("With him there is plentiful redemption"). To follow the Lord in his work for the poor and most abandoned (as Redemptorists try to do) is closely tied to being a "living memory" of the risen Lord (as the sisters try to be). Each order focuses on a different dimension of the one redemptive mystery and, for this very reason, is intimately related to the other. Noventber-December 2000 My experience at Esopus has taught me that contemplative religious can best contribute to the apostolic mission of the church by simply being themselves and living whatever Rule they follow with patience, humility, and deep compassion. In doing so, they reveal the depth of their humanity and remind us of the intimacy we are all called to share with the divine. The eucharistic quality of their lives enables them to celebrate the present moment-- whatever it may bring--by sharing the gifts of self-offering and sensitive personal presence. Their life of solitude places them at the very heart of the church's life and ongoing mission. Their enclosed life offers the world a countercultural and eschatological sign of what is still to come, yet somehow already mysteriously present in the deepest recesses of the human heart. Like the Redemptoristines at Esopus, contemplative religious are called to lose themselves in the mystery of the divine in order to find themselves in the face of the very next person they meet. They plumb the depths of human experience in order to move more deeply into the sacred and live in intimate spousal union with their divine Lover. All of them are living reminders of the passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. All are visible expressions of the church's living memory of what took place in the person of Jesus Christ and takes place today in his body, the church. Theirs is a message for all times, all places, and all circumstances. Those who hear it will recognize the need to foster in themselves a contemplative attitude toward life. Those who do not will miss a unique opportunity to peer beneath the surface of life and behold, as never before, the innermost treasures of the human heart. Review for Religious ANDRI~ MAUREEN SOETE A Vowed Response to the Postmodern World Tphosetm choadrearcnte wriostrilcds asryem bpetionmgs s, taunddie rde aalnitdie ps roofb oeudr bsyo -sccailelend-tists, sociologists, anthropologists, philosophers, and theologians. All seek to understand the reality, foresee the consequences, and arrive at some satisfactory description and response. Since I am not a theologian, scientist, philosopher, or any of the above, I do not claim to understand this reality, much less propose responses. What I offer is simply my own response as a woman religious, specifically a School Sister of Notre Dame. The Situation of Our Age Postmodern issues have been touching us and coming into our consciousness for some time now. Our world is rapidly chang-ing, and what we once thought were objective, unchangeable real-ities are in fact changing. The "way to be" and the "way to do" for the present generation seems so different from our way. What can all this mean to SSND sisters and associates at this time? This time of change may feel like a breakdown. The world has become so different that we may not like it and may question Andr,~ Maureen Soete SSND has ministered in Japan for thirteen years. This article is the address she gave to an assembly of Japanese and North American School Sisters of Notre Dame in Kyoto on 9 January 2000. Her address is 11 ol Kawarada-cho; Matsugasaki; Sakyo-ku; Kyoto 606, Japan. November-December 2000 Soete * A Vowed Response the direction in which it is heading. Envisioning ourselves living in this new age, we may have the feeling that we do not fit, for what we understood as reality is being challenged. This is not just the usual generation-gap experience that we have all probably experienced from one side or the other. This phenomenon has been observed by many since the first hints of it in the 1970s and is obviously a real cultural shift. The choices for different lifestyles, the questioning of what we considered permanent values, and the challenges to our thinking are in some ways unnerving. We may catch ourselves longing for the good old days--the secure structures, the way students "used to be," and the way convent life was. It almost tempts us to choose to respond by retreating--by going back. These times are being described by the word chaos. Some of the chaotic things that people observe and study are political, eco-nomic, and social oppression; poverty, starvation, and unemploy-ment; the oppression of women; the ecological crisis; nuclear threat; secularism, materialism, and the failure of churches to renew themselves and inspire belief. Chaos causes a great deal of anxiety, but it also provides us with the moment and the call to rediscover our real story and our deepest roots. How Our Foundress Would Respond As followers of Mother Theresa Gerhardinger, we can ask ourselves how she would manage in this age, how .she would respond if she were alive today. We know that our answer would have something to do with our charism. What is it that she passed on to us that is ageless? What is the changeless essence that will survive these times and even give us the hope we need to go on? When we think of Mother Theresa responding to her time and day we think of a strong woman of prayer, a woman of God, a woman in touch with the reality and needs of her day, a woman animated and energized by the conviction that women can change the world, a woman who knew that, if people can change, the world can cMnge too. But at the root of all these images of her was her sense of God's desire and call "that all be one." She longed for the oneness of all in God. She was a woman willing to strug-gle for unity on every level. She could see unity in diversity, for she believed in the rights of individuals and the respect due to each person. She learned the Review for Religious lessons essential for real unity--lessons of love, respect, appreci-ation, tolerance, and trust--first from her own parents and later from her mentors Bishop Wittmann and Father Job. These were her models, inspiring her to foster the same values among her sis-ters and her society. It was her commitment to unity and her drive "to make one" that gave her tireless energy for mission, and could give us the same tireless energy. The Postmodern Age The academic world has come to use the term "postmodern" in an attempt to name this period of the world's history because this is the period in which people are reacting to all that is false and untrue, all that has not worked in our familiar modern age. In some way the choice of the name "postmodern" is like calling the butterfly a "postcaterpillar." "Postcaterpillar" might be a suitable name during the period when we observe that the caterpillar is no more, that what was once the caterpillar now seems dead or half dead, changing unaccountably. But once we see the beautiful creature with bright wings emerge, flutter freely, and take flight, we find ourselves calling it a "butterfly." Similarly, because of the lack of clarity about the future, schol-ars describe the present reality by noting changes from the earlier condition.When all of the characteristics of this age become clear and show some coherence, it will be time to give the new period a name. The world may not reach that point in our lifetimes, but I hope that all of us want to be a part of the creation of the new name. We can do that by appropriately influencing, shaping, and creating some of the characteristics that will emerge. I suggest that a principal characteristic must be unity. That same oneness that was Christ's mission and Theresa Gerhardinger's mission must be our mission too. Failure of the Modern Age The modern age promised us that by science and technology, by dividing the whole, dissecting and labeling every part, and con-trasting one thing with another, it could understand and solve the problems of our world and probe the depths of reality. It promised that the world would be controlled and developed and perfected, and that human beings would reach great heights. But science November-December 2000 [--~2 ¯ Soete ¯ A Vowed Response Our prosperity and plenty come to us on the backs of the poor and oppressed. itself has had to admit that the mysteries of the world are far beyond such probing; that our scientific advances have actually destroyed much of our world and have led us to live in fear of some scientific developments; that actually, in spite of all of our sci-entific progress, we have missed opportunities to expand and develop our spiritual and human potential and have inst(ad created horrendous human misery. MI of the human misery in the world today is a sign that these former beliefs are not working. When I think of the oppression, poverty, ecological recklessness, uncontrolled materialism, and other problems of our day, I can understand why a new generation rejects our old answers. When I hear dogmatic pronouncements from our churches or from our governments about how things should be and see that those very pronouncements bring about more division than unity and hope alnong peoples, I can understand why some of my own young nieces and nephews reject them as incomplete, irrelevant, without meaning in their lives. It is probably true that there have always been famines, always children abused, always conflicts among religious groups, always people oppressed and exploited and murdered--but we have not always known about them with such immediate clarity. Now, thanks to advances in technology, we do. We are informed immediately about what is happening around the world. And we know now what the prophets and economists have been telling us for a long time, that our prosperity and plenty come to us on the backs of the poor and oppressed. And now the poor and oppressed know that too. We can see all of the "signs of the times" on our nightly news programs. It is up to us to read them carefully, interpret them honestly, and respond accordingly. If society is not organizing itself so as to be inclusive of all citizens, but chooses rather to be exclusive, then the developments in the world around us must sig-nal that we are going in the wrong direction. If our lack of respect for our environment cries out to heaven and to us in its misery, if our land is no longer fertile, our water is befouled, and our air is poisoned--if we really see and recognize this, we must know that we are going in the wrong direction. Review for Religious If our neglect of the poor and downtrodden causes our edu-cation and healthcare systems to fail, and if our competitive cul-tures make the lives of many people miserable, then all of that neglect and competition must be the wrong direction. If the signs tell me that life the way we have thus far organized it is not work-ing, that nothing succeeds, that my actions effect disaster for oth-ers, I am obviously moving in the wrong direction. After recognizing all of this, what do we do? We must make choices in response to these signs. We can choose to be "the tired ones" who give up to let someone else lead the renewal. We can choose to be "the selfish ones" who create only our own security and pleasure. Or we can choose to be "the hopeful ones" who will look for new possibilities for ourselves and for the world. I want us to be the ones who choose to be hopeful. I think we must con-tinue to believe that human beings hold the potential to create a world that works for all peoples. Our Vows as a Response I think that as vowed religious we might bring new dimen-sions to the thinking about solutions to world problems and could radically affect outcomes--not by seeing ourselves as an elite group distanced from our neighbors by some holy and private choices, by mysterious vows of poverty, celibacy, and obedience, but rather by remembering--and letting ourselves be reignited by--the zeal with which I think we all made our first vows. I mean the per-sonal hope that we would change the world for the better, that we ourselves would bring with us the presence of Christ, that by sharing our love, faith, and hope we would make Christ visible and bring all the world to oneness in God. What happened to that most wonderful zeal and enthusiasm? I think that we religious need to ponder deeply the meaning of our vows and the witness our lives can give, must give, in con-trast to various trends and news events. I think of instances of environmental pollution, of trials for war crimes, of the terroriz-ing of ethnic and religious groups, and of the mother of a young child who could kill another woman's little girl. We seek to be effective in demonstrating hope and bringing it into our world. In a world where millions (including helpless children) suf-fer from the lack of such essentials as food, clothing, shelter, medicine, and education; in a world where people use their wealth November-December 2000 Soete ¯ A Vowed Response to produce more wealth so that they can live in a style that uses up the goods of the earth; in a world where people want more and more and give less and less to the laborers who produce the goods; in a world full of people who throw away and waste without even a thought--in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to use only what we need and to share everything we have. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who looks at us, our lifestyles, or our closets notice our choiceto do with less and our willingness to share? Would they be edified, stand in awe of the way that we are keeping our promise? In a world where groups of human beings look upon other groups as lower and with great intolerance seek to get rid of them; in a world where "ethnic cleansing," ways of death, become a way of life for some; in a world where nationalism means that free-dom to be intolerant of the differences of other races or peoples-- in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to love inclusively and to take on Jesus' own reverence and concern for all people, excluding no one. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who looks at us, at our way of being with the people with whom we live, at our way of being with the people at our place of ministry, notice our love, tolerance, and respect? Would they be edified and stand in awe of the way we are keeping our promise? In a world where the strong and influential make decisions for the weak; in a world where whole groups of people are not consulted about matters that affect vital areas of their lives; in a world where people are murdered because they disagree--in such a world I have promised, we have promised, to search for God's will and the right direction through dialogue and conversation, con-sultation and collaboration with all concerned. Are we keeping that promise? Would anyone who watches how we lead or partic-ipate in groups of students or teachers or coworkers notice our collaborative style or the way we listen to every person? Wotild they be edified and stand in awe of the way we are keeping our promise? What Then? I have spoken about our vows, emphasizing them as three promises because the term "vows" can sometimes be spiritualized and focused only on our commitment to God. In thinking about them as promises, I had a sense of a great possibility. I began to see Review for Religious that what we promise is more like a radical way that all human beings need to choose if we are to create a world where all people can live with dignity. I Wonder what might happen if we shared these choices of ours more openly among ourselves and witnessed to them more radically with our associates and with our partners in ministry. I am not so sure of our next step. I am not so sure how this small core of friends and others like us might have a good impact on our society and our world. But I think that somehow we can--and I challenge ourselves and others to come alive with that potential. "Striving for Unity" is our charism. We are supposed to be masters of it by now. Why, in our Japan Region alone, if we add up all of our years of religious life, we have more than three thousand years of our SSND lifestyle! I hope that we and others may gather together everyone's good insights and with them create for ourselves an exciting and real-istic dream as we step forward with God into this third millennium. Many of us will probably not be around when the next era gets its name, but--just as we prefer the word "butterfly" to "postcaterpillar" when thinking of the little creature's potential--would we not want the concepts of oneness, tolerance, collaboration, acceptance, and respect to be part of the name given to the next era? Are there initiatives for us to take, or can we at least support and encourage the wonderful people around us who are already dedicating their lives to this conversion and transformation of the earth? Is this not what we want to use our energy and ingenuity for? Is this not a way that we could use our positions as educa-tors and as ministers? Is this not worth the offering of the rest of our lives? We have promised to use only what we need. Are we keeping that promise? November-Decen~ber 2000 LAWRENCE F. BARMANN Mary Ward: Centuries Her Scroll examples from the past Today, amid questions about effective evangelization in the 21st century, about leadership and ~uthority in the Catholic Church, and about women's fuller participa-tion in these efforts and echelons, there is much that can and should be learned from Mary Ward at long last. During her lifetime four hundred years ago, she experi-enced much suffering and failure, but her full contribu-tion to the church and the world seems now to be only beginning. For religious in the United States and else-where who may know little or nothing of this extraor-dinary woman, I hope this article may provide a brief but warm introduction. The recent book I will be draw-ing from and citing is an excellent place to make fur-ther acquaintance with her goodness and truth. I refer to Mary Ward: Pilgrim and Mystic by Margaret Mary Littlehales IBVM) Mary Ward was an English gentlewoman, well-con-nected by birth, and related to many of those who were executed for their part in the ill-conceived Gun Powder Plot of 1605. She was born in Yorkshire in 1585, three years before the defeat of the Spanish Armada and four- Lawrence E Barmann is a professor of American studies and theological studies at Saint Louis Univ, ersity. His address is Humanities Building; 3800 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63108. Review for Religious teen years after Pope Pius V's bull Regnans in excelsis made techni-cal traitors out of all English Catholics who claimed allegiance to the pope by inviting them to dethrone Queen Elizabeth. So mar-tyrdom for the faith, or at least willingly accepted hardship for the ability to practice it, became the very atmosphere in which Mary Ward grew to adulthood. Such an atmosphere is often inducive to quick spiritual maturity, and in Mary Ward's case it certainly was. By the time she was sixteen, Mary Ward had developed a strong prayer life and the conviction that God intended her for the religious state in some form. Her parents thought otherwise, and Edmund Neville, heir to the earldom of Westmoreland, became her suitor. After Mary had gently rejected him, Neville became a Jesuit; and at twenty-one she persuaded her father to allow her to go to the continent to try her vocation to religious life. In 1606 Mary arrived at SaintoOmer in the Spanish Netherlands (now northern France), where English Catholics escaping persecution in their homeland had been migrating for decades. Through the advice of misguided confessors, she entered a Poor Clare convent, only to realize within a year that this was not where God intended her to be. In 1609 she returned briefly to England, where she seems to have gained some light about God's choice for her. Upon returning to Saint-Omer with a small group of English women about her own age, she set about doing for women's education what the Jesuits were doing for boys among the emigr~s. She called her community the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary, and her specific intention was "to train English girls from Catholic families to be wives and mothers or religious, but all to be apostles for the faith in England." She was convinced that women were quite as capable of edu-cation as men, though she thought they did not need precisely the same courses. For Greek and Hebrew she substituted modern lan-guages, and for physical training, dancing. Moreover, she set about having her own followers trained to teach such things. In the patri-archal world and church of the 17th century, this was considered wildly innovative and thus suspect; and so the church authorities, who alone could approve her work as a religious institute, were to make Mary pay dearly for such innovation. Once, in 1617, after hearing a Jesuit priest comment on the work of her schools that, "when all is done, they are but women," Mary remarked calmly but with conviction: "There is no such dif- November-Decen~ber 2000 Barmann ¯ Mary Ward ference between men and women that women may not do great things . And I hope in time to come it will be seen that women will do much . What think you of this word 'but women'? but as if we were in all things inferior to some other creature which I suppose to be man." Mary Ward's convictions about this and much else were drawn not primarily from books and debates, but from her intense relationship with God and from his grace working through her wonderfully balanced and prophetic personality. As the schools grew and young women increasingly wished to join Mary Ward's community, she needed to settle on some rule of life. By 1611 already about forty women had cast their lots with hers. Both the local bishop and her confessor tried to force her to adopt either the Augustinian, Benedictine, Franciscan, or Carmelite rules. To these urgings she could only respond that "they seemed not that which God would have." These "English Ladies," as they were now commonly called by their supporters (or "Jesuitesses," by their detractors), could not have adopted any of those earlier rules for women and continue to do the work to which they were called; all four rules as they were applied to women in those days required canonical enclosure. Finally Mary Ward had her answer, and it was to lead to incredible suffering for the remainder of her life. To the papal nuncio in Cologne, Monsignor Albergati, she explained: About this time, in the year 1611, being alone in some extraordinary repose of mind, I heard distinctly not by sound of voice, but intellectually understood, these words: "Take the same of the Society"; so understood as that we were to take the same both in matter and manner, that only excepted which God by diversity of sex hath prohibited. These few words gave so great a light in that particular institute, comfort and strength, and changed so the whole soul as that it was impos-sible for me to doubt, but that they came from Him whose words are works. Mary Ward's conviction that God intended her to adopt the Jesuit Rule to her institute of religious women and to do her spe-cial work in the world rather than in a cloister was what 17th-cen-tury western Europe obviously needed if it were to remain at all Catholic. But it was a conviction far in advance of the convictions of most of the male authorities in post-Reformation Rome. Furthermore, the Jesuits had managed to incur the jealous wrath of the secular clergy in England, and these latter pursued Mary with calumnious accusations simply because she intended to estab-lish a female religious congregation based on Jesuit principles. Review for Religious These calumnies found a ready hearing in Rome. The Jesuits them-selves were ambivalent about her institute, sometimes being extremely helpful and sometimes joining the enemy. In 1622 Mary Ward finally met the Jesuit general, Mutius Vitelleschi, who was deeply and permanently impressed by her. Henceforth the Jesuit general would instruct his men to be supportive of Mary's work and gracious to her, short of such involvement as might lead to a sort of second order--something St. Ignatius Loyola had strictly for-bidden. Meanwhile Mary's institute had established schools not only in Saint-Omer, but in Liege and Rome, and would soon have houses in Naples, Perugia, Munich, Vienna, Pressburg, and elsewhere. Mary herself, always of delicate physical constitution, went back and forth across the Alps, mostly on foot, frequently in winter and in the midst of the Thirty Years War, in order to strengthen and encourage her followers; while at the same time she worked tirelessly to gain the necessary support of bishops, the Roman curia, and the pope, for the approval of her institute. The number of high-placed clerics who opposed her for reasons that had nothing to do with reli-gion, or even good sense, always outnumbered those who sup-ported her. The bishop of Vienna, for instance, wrote to Rome in 1628 to complain that the English Ladies had opened a school there without his peymission (though they had the emperor's per-mission and he had even given them a house and funds) and that the girls in Mary Ward's school had actually performed publicly in a comic school play! With the Catholic religion collapsing in central Europe, a bishop's jealousy of his rights against the only Catholic ruler of any weight in the region would ultimately prevent the Catholic education of young women in the empire. Of popes with whom Mary had to deal, Urban VIII, who would condemn Galileo at Mary Ward's conviction that God intended her to adopt the Jesuit Rule to her institute of religious women was what 17th-century western Europe obviously needed if it were to remain Catholic. November-December 2000 Barmann ¯ Mar~ Ward about the same time that he condemned Mary Ward, was the most duplicitous. She first had an audience with Urban in 1624, in which she pleaded for approval of her institute and in which Urban smiled and smiled and totally misled her about his intentions. Eventually he ordered the suppression of all of her houses and the dissolution of her institute, and this merely on the basis of English clerical calumnies and calumnies spawned by the hurt pride of ambitious continental clerics. Mary herself was eventually imprisoned as a heretic in a Poor Clare convent in Munich, by order of the Roman Inquisition. There she nearly died, though she so impressed the resident Poor Clares that they knew she was anything but a heretic. Meanwhile, her followers were being systematically driven from their houses and were mostly on the verge of starvation. Having at length been released from prison, Mary set out at the end of 1631 for Rome in order to clear her good name for the sake of what she hoped might be the future of her institute. Kneeling at Urban's feet she burst out, "Holy Father, I am not nor ever have been a heretic." At which the pope interrupted, "We believe it, we believe it; we need no other proof." He also allowed the institute to continue (under private vows) in Rome and under his protection. In 1637 Mary Ward set out again for England, though it would be May of 1639 before she actually got there. She sought a letter from Pope Urban to give to Queen Henrietta Maria to gain the queen's support for her institute. The letter Mary received speaks of her as "one much esteemed in Rome both for her well-known qualities and piety, which will without doubt cause Your Majesty to see and hear her." This was the same Rome which, only half a dozen years earlier, had imprisoned her as a heretic and decreed the destruction of her life's work. The queen did receive Mary gra-ciously, but within a year the country would be in the throes of political ttirmoil that would end in civil war and the execution of the king. Without completely abandoning her hope of establishing a school in London, Mary went north to Yorkshire in 1642, and there she died at Osbaldwick, a short distance from the city of York, on 20 January (old style) 1645. After her death Mary Ward's institute did in fact flourish, and finally, in 1977, after a wait of 366 years, the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary was able to realize Mary Ward's original insight and founder's charism by adopting the Jesuit Constitutions, and with the blessing of the Jesuit general, Pedro Arrupe. Margaret Mary Review for Religious Littlehales's study of Mary's Ward's life reveals many things. It reveals the costliness, but also the great happiness, of completely abandoning oneself to God. It also demonstrates that, within the external church structure, official authority can be quite wrong, but probably less so in proportion to the genuine humility of its wielders. Mary Ward's life demonstrates incontrovertibly that God's intended purposes are often achieved through the near annihilation of the human instruments of that achievement. Christians should not be surprised by this, for such was the case with God's own Son. Contemporary religious, both men and women, can find great encouragement and inspiration in the life of this saintly English woman. Dorothy Day did, and she even titled her own autobiog-raphy with a remark Mary Ward once made as she pondered what lay ahead of her as a young woman bent on seeking only God's will--"the long loneliness." Note 1 Margaret Mary Littlehales, Mary Ward, Pilgrim and Mystic, 1~8Y- 164~ (Tunbridge Wells, England: Burns and Oates, 1998). Pp. 272. £18.95. Patrimony my patrimony is a deity unknown whose name I cannot pronounce communicated to me in stuttering speech, in fits of temper and in weeping, in so many questions unleavened by answers in silence and in absence by those struck dumb and those afraid to speak Sefin Kinsella November-December 2000 STAN PARMISANO St. Catherine's Letters: Human Love, Gracious Authority One level of St. Catherine of Siena, perhaps her deepest, is revealed in her Dialogue.' But this great work, whether in the original or in proper translation, is strange fare for many mod-ern readers. Its subject matter--mystical union with the Trinity in and through Christ--is high and heavy and, I should think, attractive only to the relatively few seriously intent upon such union. Its language often includes words and phrases borrowed from the scholastic theology of the day, though Catherine's orig-inal genius keeps breaking through, giving new form to old mat-ter. The book is also rife with personification and allegory (Christ the Bridge, the Tree of Life, Vineyard of the Soul, and so forth)-- fun for the medieval reader, but dry and tedious for today's read-ership. Also, in the Dialogue Catherine is quite formal and impersonal. The lively, dynamic personality recorded in history is certainly there, but it has to be searched out, for it is hidden in the shadow of the great Truth she labors to expound. She herself is merely un'anirna in the mighty presence of her God. Her letters are a different matter.2 They are personal--writ-ten not by an anonymous "soul," but by the flesh-and-blood Catherine. Io Caterina rings throughout, addressed not to people in general, but to here-and-now individuals. The letters evoke wide and popular interest. They deal with Catherine's own life Stan Parmisano OP wrote about theology and faith in our September- October issue. His address remains Saint Albert's Priory; 5890 Birch Court; Oakland, California 94618. Revie'a, for Religiou, and visible experiences and with details about life around her, social and political as well as spiritual. Their language is not borrowed from or freighted with outmoded rhetorical devices, but is pleas-ingly spontaneous and informal, as alive today as in Catherine's own time. On the whole the letters are original. They are Catherine, in every vibrant word and phrase--simple, nuanced, various, alive with passion for the truth, and the truth in particu-lar situations. They are "unliterary," to be sure, for they were talked, not written, by our unlettered saint, but they are clear and coherent, direct and firm, though also tactful. Catherine sometimes digresses, loses the train of her thought, but she never really rambles on or gossips. She has little time for light conversation ("Let us run, let us run, for the time is short!"), and her central point is almost always clear and precise. Though each of her letters is unique, many of them fall into a common pattern. They begin with Jesus, and with Catherine as the slave of the servants of God--never, for Catherine, a mere pious formula, but always freshly genuine. Then she often seems to lose herself in the contemplation and exposition of one of the mysteries of faith, which, however, turns out to be pertinent to the subject of the letter. Soon she comes to the question at issue, and, if in the initial paragraphs she was high and spiritual, peacefully contemplative, now she is very much the active apostle dealing practically and in detail with earthy mat-ters. She ends with statements of love and concern for her corre-spondent, placing all in the hands of God: "Bathe you in the blood of Christ crucified. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love." The letters reveal the breadth as well as depth of Catherine's concerns, and her marvelous ability to adapt, with no compromise of ideal, to various situations and personalities. To a little niece she writes in gentle, childlike simplicity about the wise and foolish virgins in the Gospel and the lamps they bear: "Do you know what this means, my daughter? By the lamp is meant our heart, because a heart ought to be like a lamp. You see that a lamp is wide above and narrow below, and so the heart is made to signify that we ought always to keep it wide above through holy thoughts and holy imaginations and continual prayer; always holding in mem-ory the blessing of the Blood by which we are bought . I said . simple, nuanced, various, alive with passion for the truth, and the truth in particular situations. November-December 2000 Parmisano ¯ St. Catherine's Letters that a lamp is narrow below, and so is our heart: to signify that the heart ought to be narrow toward these earthly things--that is, it must not desire or love them extravagantly, nor hunger for more than God wills to give us" (letter no. 23). To Alessa, as to other of her women disciples, she sends prac-tical advice about the religious life, which is to be lived "both with and without moderation . For love toward God should be with-out measure, and that for creatures should be measured by that for God, and not by measure of one's own consolations, whether spiritual or temporal." And how manage this? "Make two homes for yourself, my daughter: one actual home in your cell, that you go not running about into many places, unless for necessity, or for obe-dience to the prioress, or for charity's sake; and another spiritual home, which you are to carry with you always." This last, she con-tinues, is "the cell of true self-knowledge," embracing both the knowledge of God and the knowledge of self, "two cells in one. ¯ and when abiding in the one you must abide in the other, for oth-erwise the soul would fall into either confusion or presumption. For, if you rested in the knowledge of yourself, confusion of mind would fall upon you; and, if you dwelt in the knowledge of God alone, you would fall into presumption" (no. 49). Still within the uncompromising truth and love of Jesus, but with some relevant adaptation, she writes in a much different vein to Sir John Hawkwood, the English soldier of fortune who was the scourge of the Italian city-states. She begs him to leave "the service and pay of the devil., and take the pay and the cross of Christ crucified." He is a soldier; let him remain such, but let him now become Christ's knight: "I beg you, then, gently in Christ Jesus, that, since God and also our Holy Father have ordered a crusade against the infidels and [since] you take such pleasure in war and fighting, you should not make war against Christians any-more-- for that is wrong to God; but go against the infidels. For it is a great cruelty that we who are Christians, and members bound in the body of Holy Church, should persecute one another." And she concludes abruptly but quite aptly with a subtle undertone of warning against his soldiering altogether: "I beg you, dearest brother, to keep in memory the shortness of your time." Her final words are as usual: "Remain in the holy and sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love" (140). To that formidable woman of the world Queen Joanna of Naples, who first sided with Clement, then Urban, then with Review for Religious Clement again in their rival claims on the papacy, Catherine writes in a similar manner, but with deeper sorrow and fiercer passion: "Dearest Mother--mother, I say, insofar as I see you to be a faith-ful daughter of Holy Church--it seems to me that you have no mercy on yourself. Ah me! because I love you I grieve over the evil state of your soul and body. I would willingly lay down my life to prevent this cruelty. Many times I have written to you in compassion, showing you that what is shown you for the truth is a lie; and the rod of divine justice., is ready for you if you do not flee so great a wrong. It is a human thing to sin, but perseverance in sin is a thing of the devil . Be merciful, ah, be merciful to yourself]. I say no more to you. Remain in the holy sweet grace of God. Sweet Jesus, Jesus Love" (348). She writes differently to Gregory xI than at a later date she would write to Urban vI. Gregory was weak and vacillating, and so in her letters to hi~n she exhorts him to be "manly" and firm in his high office of supreme pontiff: "Be manly in my sight, and not timorous . I, Catherine. write you in his precious Blood, desiring to see you a manly man (uomo virile) without any servile fear." And, when Gregory hesitates in his resolve to return to Rome for fear of being poisoned there, Catherine reminds him that there are other, more terrible kinds of poison; and at any rate there's as much poison "on the tables of Avignon . as on those of Rome!" (229, 239). Urban, on the other hand, from the start of his pontificate was already betraying that spirit of anger and vindictiveness that would end in personal revenge, violence, and mt~rder. One had written to Catherine after the election of Urban: "It seems that our new Christ is a terrible man." In her first letter to him, Catherine appears to be aware of this and shapes her words accordingly: "Next I beg you, and constrain you by the love of Christ crucified, as to those sheep who have left the fold--I believe for my sins-- that, by love of that Blood of which you are made minister, you delay not to receive them in mercy, and with your benignity and holiness force their hardness; give them the good of bringing them back to the fold, and, if they do not ask it in true and perfect humility, let Your Holiness supply for their imperfection. Receive from a sick man what he can give you" (291). Religious life is to be lived "both with and without moderation." November-December 2000 Parmisano * "St. Catherine's Letters She writes to William Flete and other hermits at Laceto a gem of a letter begging them to leave for a time the peace and quiet of their forest retreat and come to Rome on pilgrimage in support of Urban. She desires them so to lose themselves as to seek "nor peace nor quiet elsewhere than in Christ crucified." If out of piety they are loath to leave their solitary life, they must know that there are woods and forests aplenty in and around Rome! (326). To Raymond of Capua, her Dominican soul brother and dearest friend, she writes in every which way: tenderly, pas-sionately, in joy, in anger; now as a scolding mother, now as his obedient daughter, now reproving him for cowardice and want of faith, now exposing her own weakness and want of love. And, often uncomfortably for Raymond, always she wants him together with herself to die a martyr: "I tell you, sweetest Father, that, whether we will or no, the time we are living in enjoins us to die, so do not live any longer." (333). Catherine's Human Love This last suggests one of two facets of Catherine's personality that may prove especially problematic for the modern reader of her letters, namely, the quality of her human love. The spontane-ity, passion, naturalness, and totality of her love for the Person of Christ is beyond question: she is quite literally consumed, body and soul, with love for Him, who is mad (pazzo), drunk (ebro) with love for her. But, when it comes to lesser*folk, her native inclina-tions seem to be oversupernaturalized, and her love may appear forced and lacking in the milk of human tenderness and warmth and understanding. This would explain the extreme discomfort she experiences when ordered by the Lord to leave her solitary life and give to others the same love that she gave to

Issue 51.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1992. ; for religi.ous Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1992 ¯-VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 4 Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published bi-monthly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Telephone: 314-535-3048 ¯ FAX: 314-535-0601 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ° St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393. Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ 5001 Eastern Avenue ¯ P.O. Box 29260 Washington~ D.C. 20017. POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ° P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus mailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1992 Review for Religious for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Se~in Sammon FMS Wendy Wright PhD Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living JULY-AUGUST 1992 ¯ VOLUME 51 ¯ NUMBER 4 contents evangelizing and witnessing ° 486 Church of the Poor Juan Ram6n Moreno sJ reflects on the implications of seeing the poor as central for the identity of the church and religious life. 496 Women Missioners amidst Violence Annmarie Sanders IHM reflects the questions, fears, and chal-lenges facing foreign women missionaries in Peru. 504 School of Terror Roy Bourgeois MM speaks on behalf of the poor as he voices his concern about a particular military training camp called the School of the Americas. inculturating 508 Women Religious and the African Synod M. Gerard Nwagwu offers her thoughts on the evangelization of Africa in an article originally presented as the keynote address at the National Day of Celebration of the Nigerian Conference of Women Religious in January 1992. 519 Rerooting Religious Life in South Africa Jennifer Mary Alt OP reflects on how native African spiritual values might become better integrated into the religious-life vocation. 527 54O 545 living religiously Religious Life and Religion Albert DiIanni SM calls attention to the religious core of a belief in God and of our relationship with God which cannot be reduced to a personal~ social, or ecological morality. Detachment in Our Psychological Age Eileen P. O'Hea CSJ explains detachment as a way of freeing ourselves from our compulsive behaviors and opening ourselves to God's healing. An Ache in My Heart Bernard Seif SMC witnesses to the continuing call and direction of God in bringing forth new forms of dedicated life in the " church. 482 Review Jbr Religious focusing religious life 550 Religious Life in Church Documents Patricia F. Walter OP presents some aspects identifying religious life in conciliar and postconciliar documents of the magisterium. 562 The Ignatian Charism of the Sisters of St. Joseph Joan L. Roccasalvo CSJ shows how the Spiritual Exercises per-meate Jean-Pierre M~daille's Maxims of Perfection and so fire an Ignatian spirit for the Sisters of St. Joseph. 575 Envisioning Associate Identity Rose Marie Jasinski CBS reflects on the status of the associate movement in the light of the second national conference held 5-7 May 1991. 581 Musings about Vocations James E. Claffey CM finds vocation ministry a stimulant to a broader understanding of how God breaks into our history. 585 595 600 614 484 625 632 ministering Pastoral Leadership beyond the Managerial (XL*~ Matthias Neuman OSB stresses the role of spiritual leadership in the midst of ministry challenges. Scarcity and Abundance in Parishes Thomas P. Sweetser SJ compares the parish to a desert of scarci-ties, but at the same time a desert beautiful with hidden wells of life. Marian Community and Ministry Patrick Primeaux SM combines data from both the theological and businessomanage.ment disciplines to distinguish a Petrine and a Marian way of ministering and of living community. Three Images of Priesthood Henry J. Charles proposes the images of priest as collaborator, mystagogue, and holy man for a renewed understanding of priesthood. departments Prisms /~ Canonical Counsel: Involuntary Ex~laustration Book Reviews .l~uly-Augu.ct 1992 483 prisms History happens. We human beings can write our history books and, by emphasis and omission and sometimes by romanticizing, make as if we are mas-ters of our history. It may take only some seventy years for the rewriting of the Communist history of Russia or it may take five hundred years for the European discovery of the Americas to be reevaluated. But it happens. We say that Pope John XXIII made history when he called the Second Vatican Council. We are well aware that the church experienced, through the actions of the bishops present at the council, something that has been likened to a second Pentecost. For our own availability to the God of history, we need to return again and again to the happening of that first Pentecost and the subsequent events as recorded in the Acts of the Apostles. God's Spirit makes things happen, even when the very persons involved seem so little capable of being the crafters of history. Most recently Pope John Paul II has expressed his own desire to make history by his call for a new evangelization, partic-ularly occasioned by our entering into the third millen-nium. This call to a new evangelization holds the promise of another moment of this second Pentecost that came with Vatican II. It is history happening, in which none of us is the master or control-artist, but every one of us plays an important role--with the Spirit's direction. Evangelization--new evangelization--demands much of us all. A paradigm of evangelization and inculturation captures our attention anew as we reflect upon the events in the Acts of the Apostles. It means that no one can hold himself or herself exempt from the call of this second moment of the second Pentecostqthe call to a new hear- 484 Review for Religious ing of good news. This is not the time for new rules or the impo-sition of old ones--the Judaizers tried that two thousand years ago. It is the time for Cornelius, his wife, and household to invite Peter once again to proclaim the gospel so that new conversion on everyone's part can take place. It is the time for Peter to dream new dreams and hear God telling him that old restrictions do not apply in a new creation moment. One of the deepest meanings of Pentecost lies in the fact that all peoples heard the good news in a way that they could under-stand and respond to. It goes beyond the language barrier to breakthroughs involving customs, heritages, and rituals. In the Pentecost beginnings, Jesus Christ and the gospel message needed no inculturation. In the new evangelization as in the original one recorded in the Acts of the Apostles, it is not Jesus Christ who needs to be inculturated; he is already a confidant of people's hearts. It is his church that must be inculturated by being evan-gelized anew as well as by evangelizing others. The Acts of the Apostles--the story of the first evangelizing time--portrays the exhilarating and somber picture that inculturating a church does not come without cost--a cost which everyone must bear in lis-tening to ~hocking good news, in experiencing a certain amount of turmoil, in suffering the pain of differences expressed vigorously by people who serve or are served. John Paul II has said that "we need an evangelization that is new in its ardor, new in its method, new in its expressions." That ' is what we--always the disciples--must allow to happen to our-selves first: to be evangelized anew in order to be the new evan-gelizers. We need to rethink how to inculturate a church, not a gospel. If the original Jewish and pagan converts to the new Christian faith seemed to share little common religious heritage and ritual and yet, with struggle, came to form the Body of Christ, can we today not recognize the imperative of a new evangelization demanding the same kind of breakthrough for traditionalists, lib-erals, feminists, or whatever modern-day version an appeal to the party of Apollos or Paul takes? A new evangelization brings the excitement of discovery into our own lives and so into our church. Let the Spirit lead. It has happened; it will happen again. David L. Fleming SJ ~uly-Augu~t 1992 485 JUAN RAMON MORENO Church of the Poor evangelizing and witnessing Juan Ram6n Moreno SJ was one of six Jesuits mur-dered along with an employee and her daughter by Salvadoran military forces at the Jesuit residence of the Central American University, San Salvador, on 16 November 1989. He was widely known as a spiritual director, teacher, preacher, and giver of retreats and conferences and was the founder and editor of the spirituality journal Diakonfa. Besides holding other responsibilities, at various times he was novice director for the Jesuits of Central America, local superior, university professor, and president of the Panamanian and Nicaraguan con-ferences of religious. This article was first published in Diakonfa 7 (1978): 17-28 and republished in a collection of Father Moreno's writings, Evangelio y misidn (San Salvador: UCA Editores, 1990). The translation is by James R. Brockman SJ with the permission of UCA Editores. The footnotes are the translator's. The term "church of the poor" is meant to express a new awareness of what it is to be church, an awareness that is growing in force among Christians in Latin America. The following thoughts are proposed as a help toward under-standing the foundation and principal traits of this way of viewing the church. Church of the Poor and Vatican II The schema on the church elaborated by the precon-ciliar doctrinal commission brought together the ecclesi-ology traditionally taught in recent centuries, and the 486 Review for Religious that allow one to recognize in Jesus the hoped-for Messiah are that "the blind see and the lame walk., and the good news is proclaimed to the poor" (Mt 11:5), what should be the traits that make recognizable Jesus' church? Church Born from Below Vatican II has allowed us to pass from a church that becomes conscious of itself and is organized and structured fr0m within, from itself, to a church that seeks to understand and structure itselffr0m without, from the world that it has been sent to in order to make God's kingdom grow in that world. Nevertheless, the reality that the world is a divided world had not yet made its full impact on the council. Consequently, the challenges to which it more directly proposes to respond are those of a world seen too much from above, from the angle of the learned and the skilled, from the culture and the perspective of the dominant classes. But at Medellfn2 the Latin American bishops began to express in an inspired and probing manner the conflictive reality of our world. The cry of the impoverished majority of the continent found an echo. The church began to become aware of itself and to organize and structure its life and pastoral action not from an abstract world or from just any part of the real, concrete world, but from below, from the world of the poor, and from there to fashion itself as the true church of Christ. Church of the Poor One must not confuse church of the poor with church3'br the poor. A church for the poo~r would be a church that is constituted in a first step that is logically prior to its encounter with the poor and then, in a second step, seeks out the poor to serve and help them. But the church of the poor is a church that in its very con-stitution has the poor as its center. There is no doubt that the church, as the historical body of Christ, must place itself in the world to transform it and to make present in it the reign of God. It must be incarnated, that is, take a body, become a visible and acting institution. But the problem is, what are the criteria that are to determine its institutional shape? What body will it take? Faithful to the incarnational logic of Jesus, the church must take the body of the poor, incorporat-j~ uly-.4ugust 1992 489 Moreno ¯ Church of the Poor ing the poor, making the poor to be those who make up what is characteristic and determinant of its body, which is structured and takes visible form from the cause and the interests of the poor. Let us take a Gospel passage that graphically illustrates this, which is the particular way of acting of Jesus. I choose the short scene with which Mark begins his third chapter. He describes a Jesus situated within a determined sociocultural-religious con-text. But Jesus is situated in it concretely, and he is situated in a way which is perceived by one of the parties as threatening to its interests--"they wer~ watching him closely" (3:2)--and which provokes a conflict so sharp that "they plotted together to see how to eliminate him" (3:6). What is indicative is the place where Jesus is situated and from which he faces the situation: solidarity with the actual man, the man in his poverty, the man oppressed by his paralyzed hand and forsaken by the institution. He has him step into the middle of the synagogue. And he obliges the others, the representatives of the grand institution, to face up to their own presuppositions: Is it licit or not? What is more important, the institution or the person, maintaining the institution or free-ing a man from what concretely oppresses him? What is the cri-terion to act on? "But they were silent" (3:4). Jesus' reaction is, "Then looking at them with anger . . ." (3:5). Countless times the Gospels speak of Jesus' look--always a loving and compas-sionate look. Now he looks "with anger." At whom? At that group of wise, prudent men who are respectful of the institution. Why? Because they refuse to commit themselves to the man, they refuse to make a decision in regard to a poor person, they refuse to take a stand in a situation that questions their rigid institutional schemes. Jesus says, "Hold out your hand" (3:5). Jesus chooses the poor person, the man in a situation of concrete need. The institution is either at the service of human beings orit does not reflect the true God. The Gospels contain many even more radical expressions about the poor as the fundamental criterion for discerning whether we are following the path to God's kingdom. Perhaps the most awesome and disquieting is the words contained in Matthew 25:31-46: "Come, blessed ones of my Father, inherit the kingdom . . . for I was hungry and you gave me to eat. depart from me, accursed ones., for I was naked and you did no~' clothe me . " There is not much room here for sociological or 490 Review for Religious theological lucubrations about who are the poor that are spoken of and what is the determinant criterion for measuring God's nearness. Crucified Church As we can see in the example of Jesus, taking the side of the poor supposes having the courage to get involved in conflict. The history of the Latin American church since Medellfn confirms what has been true all through its existence: insofar as it empties itself of power and prestige so as to enter the world of the poor and be identified with them and their cause, it has also had to suffer their lot--crucifixion and death--and it has come to under-stand why it cannot follow Jesus without denying itself and car-rying the cross. It is because the immense majority of the poor are not poor simply because of nature, but because of other persons. In reality, the poor are the impoverished. Hence, their mere pres-ence is an accusation, a questioning; it creates conflict. The poor are a cause of division, a division whose theological meaning is apocalyptically described in the eschatological discourse I have mentioned: "He will separate one from the other, as the shep-herd separates the sheep from the goats" (Mt 25:32). Jesus him-self, poor and in solidarity with the poor, appears as "a sign of contradiction" (Lk 2:34); and when he takes his place actually at the side of the poor, he provokes conflict and repression, and he suffers death. For this reason the church of the poor is the crucified church, the church of the martyrs. It is so insofar as it is a church of the poor. As long as it preaches universal but abstract love, as long as it is a church from above, the world's powerful praise and respect it; they consider it their church. But when it begins to translate love into historical terms, when it begins to take the side of the poor and it plans and organizes its pastoral work with them in mind, then it begins also to be the church that is slandered and persecuted. If we look at this fact in the light of the Beatitudes (see Lk 6:22-23, 26) there is no doubt which one is the church of Jesus. Church in which the Poor are Evangelized The poor are the privileged consignees of the good news of .~ly-Aug'ust 1992 491 Moreno ¯ Church of the Poor salvation. That does not mean they are the exclusive consignees. Partiality is not the same as exclusiveness. Jesus comes to bring sal-vation for all. But he comes to bring it from the poor, and fi'om them he confronts the changes that must come about in the world; he makes specific what it means to be converted, what it means to become brothers and sisters. This is not a matter of mystifying the poor, as if they were the good and the rich were the bad. It is that objectively God's identi-fication with the poor, the defense of their cause, is precisely where it is revealed what God is, a God who is love that saves, love that creates a brotherhood and sisterhood of sons and daughters, love that makes all things new. And so it is from there that salva-tion is offered to all. The Beatitudes proclaim, not the goodness of human beings, but the goodness of the God who identifies with the little ones of the earth. The Acts of the Apostles describes for us a church that under, stood this very well and where for that reason the poor find their place in such a way that they cease to be poor: Among them no one was needy, because all those who pos-sessed land or houses sold them and brought the price of the sale., and distribution was made to all according to their needs (Ac 4:34-35). It is the very gesture of him who "being rich became poor for you in order to enrich you with his poverty (2 Co 8:9). Church in which the Poor Evangelize Us This is another of the traits that characterize the church of the poor. St. John declares: Everyone who loves . . . knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love (1 Jn 4:7-8). But those who from their objective condition teach the church what true love of God, Christian love, consists in are the poor: If someone has material possessions and sees a brother in need and yet closes his heart to him, how can love of God dwell in him? My children, let us love not just with words, with our lips, but with actions and in truth (1 Jn 3:17-18). The poor reveal to us what the demands are of that love which, because it is Christian, seeks efficacy and a real change in the conditions of suffering and injustice of the poor. They makd us discover who God is: the one who takes the part of the orphan, 492 Review for Religious the widow, the stranger, the one who becomes their goeL They make us understand the Jesus who has compassion, who casts out demons, who looks with anger. They reveal to us the demons that must be cast out today, what the sin is that today stirs up the Lord's anger, what it is that today negates brotherhood, that kills our brother or sister. It is from the poor we must learn what grace means, grace that is manifested in powerlessness, that makes possible the impossible, that bursts in as pure gift. In short, they keep on making us discover the Gospel in a new dimension. On the other hand, if the poor are the privileged consignees of the good news of the kingdom, that means they must also be privileged in understanding and interpreting what that good news signi-fies. The Gospel is understood through the lens of the poor and from their per-spective. Therefore, it is in them before all else that the Spirit becomes present, From the poor we must learn what grace means, grace that is manifested in powerlessness, that makes possible the impossible, that bursts in as pure gift. and from there the Spirit speaks today to the church. There is a hierarchical magisterium in the church, but it only makes sense if it is rooted in the reality of those poor who make up the church's rank and file. The good shepherd's sheep follow him because "they know his voice" and "he knows his own sheep" (Jn 10:4, 14). The hierarchy of the church of the poor is a hierarchy of service, not of domination. It is a hierarchy that knows its sheep in dia-logue and solidarity, that is ai~tuned to their concrete needs, their sufferings, their longings. Precisely for this reason, because it can hear and understand the people's silent cry, it is able to speak with a language that is recognizable, and in the hierarchy's voice the poor find their life, their cause, their hope, their own voice. The theological reflection of the church of the poor is done from below also, tuning in to 'the awareness and the feelings of the poor. Those poor have had their voice taken away--within the church as well--for so long that they have forgotten how to speak and must learn, to express themselves; but they must increasingly acquire a voice within the church. And that voice must be heard, because in it is revealed the Spirit of Jesus that guides the church. Thus will arise a church where things are considered, struc-at~ dy-./lugust 1992 493 Moreno ¯ Church of tbe Poor tured, and carried out from the perspective of the poor. It is they who say how the institution should function, what new ministries are required for a better service, what ministries and functions they need so that they themselves may be active participants within the church's life. Church on Its Way We must not forget that this church of the poor is also a pil-grim church, a church that must keep forming itself through hard-ship and conflict. I am not referring now to conflict with the powers of the world; I am talking about the world and the sin that are still found within the church itself, about conflict that arises from the church's limitations and from different models of church. The church's unity--that unity for which Jesus died--is eschatological unity, a unity that will come about beyond the church itself as fundamental gift of the kingdom that will burst forth into fullness. The church has a mission to go on building that unity--which is universal brotherhood and sisterhood--by attacking at the root what keeps that unity from being realized. That is not achieved by denying the reality of the conflict, but by facing up to the lack of love and Folidarity that produces it. The mere existence of the poor exposes that lack of love and sol-idarity- which is why there will be protest, conflict, and division as long as there are poor--and it reminds us that salvation, the fullness of God's reign, has not yet arrived. The Religious Life in the Church of the Poor What place do we religious have within this church of the poor that I have just described? The religious life arises as protest against the values and struc-tures of the world. It arises as a search for what is radical in the Gospel, for the "one thing necessary" (Lk 10:42), which tends to be obscured in a church tempted to become worldly, to stop being the distinct event that it ought to be within the world. With its special form of Christian existence, religious life ought to be prophecy that points continually towards the church's true mean-ing and calls on it, not to settle down, but to seek ever to go for-ward. That is the eschatological meaning of the vows, as they show us a beyond that urgesus to transform the present. 494 Review for Religious But what is the natural place for religious life to flourish? Where is the root that makes our life radically evangelical? If what I have said about the church of the poor is true, then there is no doubt that the poor are the place par excellence where the reli-gious life should be located in order to carry out its charism of prophecy. In point of fact, the Spirit is stirring up a notable move-ment among religious towards a real and concrete insertion among the poor. From there the Spirit provides light for a reinterpreta-tion of religious life itself. The religious vows are seen before all else as ,consecration to the Christ who is poor and identified with the poor, as vows that consecrate by freeing us from fixity and exclusiveness so as to form Christians who are available for all and approachable by all, but with an availability and approacha-bility whose universalness is shown precisely in being dedicated by preference to the poor and effectively committed to their cause. It means being detached in order to go where the institution can scarcely reach because of the difficulty and poverty of the condi-tions. Jon Sobrino expresses it very well as a going to the desert, the periphery, the frontier: to the desert, where no one is, where no one wants to go; to the periphery, where everything is seen through the lens of the powerless (not to the center, where the powerful are, where things are seen from above); to the frontier, where risks are greater and the task is harder, where there are no trodden paths because no one has trod them and the walkways are made by walking. What better way to fulfill religious life's prophetic function within the church than to help it read the signs of the times from that insertion into the world and struggle of the poor? What bet-ter way than to point out the new paths that the Spirit of Jesus is having us discover through the poor, in whom that Spirit becomes so specially present? The challenge offered us is, how to bring this about? To what conversion does the Lord call us as religious within the church so that we may help it become increasingly a church of the poor? Notes 1 The Documents of Vatican H (New York: The America Press, 1966), pp. 23-24. 2 The 1968 Latin American bishops' assembly at Medell~n, Colombia. July-August 1992 495 ANNMARIE SANDERS Women Missioners amidst Violence efforts of two insurgency groups, drug lords, and a military that violates more human rights than the groups it seeks to suppress. Through the country more than sixty percent of the people are living in emergency zones, and a great deal of these areas have been placed under military control. Many of the towns have lost their leaders, doctors, teachers, and development workers and even their police. Often only Catholic church workers remain, the great majority of whom are women religious. The situation has called us who serve here to a new way of liv-ing and ministering among the people and to a new spirituality. Following Christ and living Christian values can no longer be done as in the past. The reality in which our spirituality is lived out is now radically different. In speaking with various foreign women missionaries through-out Peru, I see that we struggle with many of the same new chal-lenges, are asking ourselves the same questions, and are recognizing similar patterns in our lives of prayer and relation with God. Our situation is unique because of the state of the country in which we work. The complexity of problems plaguing Annmarie Sanders IHM, a member of her congregation's vocation and formation team, has been in Peru since March 1989, She also works as associate editor of Latinamerica Press/Noticias Aliadas. Her address is Apartado 18-0101 ; Lima, Peru. 496 Review for Religious Peru does not follow any pattern in the history of other nations, and thus we have no precedent to follow. To understand our questions, fears, and challenges, one must better understand the context of the violence we face. Peru's two terrorist groups, the Maoist Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) and the Tupac Amaru Revolutionary Move-ment, hold as their primary goals the takeover of the country. So far their efforts since 1980 ¯ have resulted in 23,000 deaths, 5,000 disap-pearances and US$18 billion in economic damage. Sendero has declared its willingness to wade through a "river of blood" to expunge foreign influence in Peru and establish a peas-ant society. It rejects competition from the church, the state, and the private sector. The methods of the two groups include bombings, intimidations, blackmail, torture, and ruth-less murder. The terrorist groups are known to be linked with narco-traffic rings, and in return for the security which the terrorists provide coca traffickers, they receive an esti-mated $40 million a year. Although the current government of Although the terrorist problem has been present in the country for over a decade, only recently has the church been directly affected. President Albert Fujimori attempts to control the drug trafficking and terrorist situations, it also battles cholera, endemic corruption, frequent drought, eighty-percent underemployment, and a deep economic depression leaving 13 million of Peru's 22 million inhabitants in extreme poverty, a figure which has doubled in three years. The government must also contend with the Peruvian military and police forces, which, according to the Washington Office on Latin America, are among the worst violators of human rights in the hemisphere. The U.S. State Department's 1990 human-rights report notes "widespread credible reports of summary executions, arbitrary arrests, and torture and rape by the military, as well as less frequent reports of such abuses by the police." The United Nations Commission on Human Rights noted that in 1991, for the fourth consecutive year, Peru had the highest number of disap-pearances of all the countries in the world. Although the terrorist problem has been present in the coun-try for over a decade, only recently has the church been directly affected. Between the church and the terrorists there had existed .~dy-August 1992 497 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence an "understanding." Generally, when terrorists entered to take over a village, if church workers complied with terrorist expecta-tions they were left unharmed. The church work often had to be significantly curtailed,.'but the religious could remain as a presence to the people. The recent direct destruction of church projects and prop-erty; the deaths of Irene McCormack, an Australian Sister of St. Joseph, in Junin in May 1991 and of Zbigniew Strzalkowski and Michael Tomaszek, Polish Franciscan priests, and Alessandro Dordi Negroni, an Italian priest, in Chimbote in August 1991; and the attempted assassination in July 1991 in Chimbote of Miguel Company, a priest from Spain, changed the scene signif-icantly. More religious encountered terrorist demands that their works--especially food aid and development projects--be stopped, and many received direct threats on their lives. Rather suddenly priests and religious became direct terrorist targets. Sendero Luminoso proclaimed that the church was the enemy of the peo-ple and an obstacle to revolutionary triumph. As the Rev. Robert Gloisten, a U.S. missioner and a staff member of the Peruvian Episcopal Conference for Social Action, stated, "We have become a church under fire with no idea of what will happen day to day." For several years, denial of the serious-ness of the situation was possible. Life was carried on with a vague knowledge that terrorists were active in a few isolated areas; as long as their activity did not directly touch us, we could continue peacefully. Those days are past. ~ The level of awareness and acceptance of the reality of this sit-uation naturally differs for each person. Much depends on one's personal experiences. For example, Pittsburgh Sister of Mercy Rita Harasiuk, who works in the diocese of Chimbote, was jolted by the death of her three colleagues into a new view of the situation: Although I began seeing things differently with the attempted assassination of Miguel Company, it was really the deaths of the two Franciscans that affected me the most. The two, along with two mayors from nearby towns who were also killed, were laid out together in coffins--all open-- and one worse than the other. For some of us, it was the first time we had seen what a human body looked like after having been shot in the head with weapons designed to destroy and mutilate . When Sandro [Alessandro Dordi] was killed two weeks later, we could see that more killing might go on. That's when we really began to strug-gle with what our response to this situation should be. 498 Review for Religious For California native Teresa Avalos of the Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet, an incident directly involving her community played a significant role in making the situation more real for her and her sisters. In July 1991 a group of Sendero Luminoso ter-rorists entered Moho, where five of her community members lived and worked. They dynamited several buildings, executed six people, and ordered the townspeople to break into and ransack the convent. "This brought the fear of violence that is directed toward us much more into the open," Avalos said. Others of us have grown in our acceptance of the seriousness of the situation from our hearing such accounts by our colleagues. We stand in solidarity with them, aware that the problem is no longer isolated. An important task most of us have faced has been the admission of our feelings in the midst of such turmoil. Fear, nat-urally, is among the most common emotions, and, unfortunately, sometimes very difficult to accept and share with others. "We are all at different stages of being able to accept the real-ity, and some are still in a stage of denial," said California native Liane Delsuc of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur. "This leaves me often feeling alone and sometimes I don't want to share my fears because others don't feel them. I start to think--is it only me that feels this way? Does that mean I should leave? That I am not able to handle it? But I do not feel that is the case. So I look for people with whom I can more freely share because in sharing it I feel stronger and as if I can continue living this." The sharing has helped us understand the wide range of emo-tions we feel. "Reflecting with others enables me to sift through real fears and imaginary ones," said Pauline Maheux, an Edmonton, Canada, native of the Ursuline Sisters of the Chatham Union; "in sharing we help one another admit to our fears and face them." The emotions one feels get mixed up when one watches the sense-less killing and destruction of years of work. Feelings include shock and anger. Often what is hardest for us to accept is the distrust we now feel towards others since we know that we must be aware of terrorist infiltration into our parishes and workplaces. An important task most of us have faced has been the admission of our feelings in the midst of such turmoil. July-August 1992 499 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence Harasiuk received a shocking revelation of this after the funeral for the slain Franciscans. At the offertory two gifts were quietly brought in procession to the altar: the rope used to tie the hands of those killed and the blood-covered cardboard left on their bodies with messages from the assassins. "We later dis-covered that among the young people bringing the gifts to the altar were persons who belonged to Sendero." Our situation naturally causes us to reflect on death--that which we see around us as well as our own. "I think much more about the possibility of my own death," said French native Anna Ingett of the Sisters of Christian Education; "not that I think death will come in the next few days,,but I am more conscious of its nearness." Given this stark reality, we are constantly asking ourselves on personal, communal, local, diocesan, and national levels: How do we deal with this personally and how are we to respond as church workers? One of the greatest challenges we face is receiving accu-rate information about what is happening in the country. The media in Peru are severely restricted and often rely on third-party sources; great doubts remain. Although organizations such as the Religious Conference of Peru work hard to gather facts, the dis-semination of information is very difficult, given the lack many religious have of telephones and reliable mail service. Many reli-gious, however, felt aided by the Religious Conference's meet-ings and workshops on violence and also by programs dealing with situations and problems in the various dioceses. What seems most useful to us are open, honest dialogues with our community members and other religious working in our areas. Many of us have listened to the facts, tried to process our feelings, and then asked ourselves some hard questions: How much more of this can I take? Will I leave if one more religious or priest is killed? Can I live with this tension? Can I remain a sign of hope in what looks like an apparently hopeless situation? Once some sense of peace was reached about our presence here, we began reexamining why we are staying. Many of us, espe-cially those working the emergency zones, began looking at our work with very different eyes. "After the deaths here, most of us slowed down and started thinking, evaluating, praying, and talk-ing together about why we are here and what we should be doing," said Harasiuk, who has been working for ten years as a pastoral team member in Chimbote. She recalls a meeting of priests and 500 Revlew for Religious sisters where someone asked, "Do you think you should continue working as you have been?" Not one person said yes. Many pastoral workers have reduced their work to simple presence in their parishes. They no longer lead groups, distribute food and aid, or attempt to organize the people. They maintain a low profile and lead quiet lives of simple accompaniment. For Delsuc, who is principal in a Lima barrio of a Fe and Alegrfa School, one of forty-three institutes set up by the Jesuits to educate young people in Lima's shantytowns and in the provinces, the questions about work are many: "I wonder if we are presenting relevant, peaceful alterna-tives that will allow the people to respond with Christian values to the violence around them? I wonder if it would'be better not to be involved in a certain work and just live alongside the people? I wonder if our commit-ment to the people is valuable even if it brings death?" Many of our ques-tions must be left unanswered. But we recognize that simply by asking them we have allowed our lives to be changed. For many of us, before we could accept the change the situ-ation calls us to, we had to let go of the past. Harasiuk says that this was a common experience for the religious in Chimbote after the deaths. "Our grieving process was not just for persons, but for a whole way of life that is passing. This situation has taken away from us a freedo~n to move day and night without fear, to speak openly without worrying about what we say or to who~n we are talking." For Harasiuk this experience also helped her to evaluate her life and her activity and to decide what really matters. "So many of the things I had been involved in suddenly did not seem so important." Maheux, who has served as a pastoral worker for eight years in Chiclayo, had a similar experience. "The situation has enabled me to sift through what is of essence and what is truly insignifi-cant. Relationships have taken on profound meaning . . . to be nourished and cherished." The change in relationships extends for most of us also to I wonder if we are presenting relevant, peaceful alternatives that will allow the people to respond with Christian values to the violence around them ? j~t~-Aug'u~ 1992 501 Sanders ¯ Women Missioners amidst Violence our relation with God. Many have noted that prayer is more dif-ficult, little ecstasy is experienced, much more anger is expressed, fewer words are used, and often God becomes the scapegoat for all of Peru's problems. Christ, for many of us, reveals himself in new ways in Scripture. "I experience Christ more in his passion, where he ends up in the midst of violence, mistreatment, and ridicule but stands strong to his values and commitments," said Delsuc. Many seek a sense of consolation in their relation with God--an assurance that they are loved and that God is still in control. Many, feeling lost in the confusion of these times, turn to God as a source of wisdom. For Lia Finnerty, a Canadian Holy Cross sister working in Juli, prayer is now more integrally connected with what is hap-pening in the news and in her village. "My prayer is the time when I can try to integrate our reality with God's word and see how our community is touched by all that." That need to connect our prayer with the wider community and to pray with others is co,ninon among us. Many note that the desire for communal peti-tionary prayer is much stronger and that it is a helpful experi-ence to bring to God each day all that we see and experience each day. Ingett, who serves on a pastoral team in Sicuani, notes that her community's time of petitionary prayer is also a time for asking pardon for all that these women experience in their daily inter-action with the people. Living in the midst of so much violence and structural injustice has clearly revealed to many of us the anger and violence present within ourselves. "Sometimes it's so hard to hear that the police have attacked innocent victims or tortured young people," admitted Finnerty. "My first reaction is often a violent one, even though I want to be nonviolent." We all seem to struggle with the anger we feel and our desire to be compassionate, and we ask ourselves many questions about how we can be more nonviolent people. We are trying different approaches. Massachusetts native Carmen Foley, a Halifax Sister of Charity serving as a spiritual director in Lima, is looking at her interactions with others and her judgments and is trying to be more merciful in her attitudes. Avalos, a pastoral worker in a Lima barrio and formhr.vice-provincial of her congregation, is look-ing at violence in her speech and her reactions. Finnerty, a pastoral worker among the Aymara people, is returning to the Aymaran value of solidarity and community as a block to violence. Delsuc 502 Review for Religious is practicing communication techniques to become more skilled in conflict resolution. Probably most important for all of us, however, is an openness to learn from the Peruvian people, who seem to know better than any of us just what hope in the midst of crisis is all about. As Maheux concluded, "My greatest source of hope for the future is the women, men, and children with whom I live. Their faith-fulness to the daily struggle to just live--to being able to eat, to the one-day-at-a-time facing of tremendous obstacles--teaches me that justice, peace, and life will endure and win out." Coming Out one shall know as dawn disentangles morning from night if one's desert spell was purgation or vacation was awakening or escape when one emerges anointed in power or scorched and spent Andrea Wild OSF July-August 1992 503 ROY BOURGEOIS School of Terror write from the Federal prison in Tallahassee, Florida, where am serving a sixteen-month sentence for an act of civil dis-obedience to protest the training of Salvadoran soldiers on United States soil. As I look back, I feel my being here is no accident, but rather the result of God's grace at work in my life. Growing up in rural Louisiana, I was a Sunday Christian and gave little thought to issues of peace and justice. I studied geology in college with the hope of getting rich in the oil fields of South America. After college I became a naval officer and volunteered for duty in Vietnam, feeling it was. my patriotic duty to fight communism. There I met a missionary who, amid the war, gave me a vision of Jesus as a healer and peacemaker. I left Vietnam wanting to be a missionary and entered Maryknoll, whose work is in twenty-eight countries overseas and in the United States. I was ordained in 1972 and went to serve the poor of Bolivia. A slum on the outskirts of La Paz became my home for six years. In Bolivia, as in Vietnam, the poor became my teachers and challenged me to grow in my faith. I then returned to do educational work in the United States. My involvement with E1 Salvador began in 1980, after Archbishop Oscar Romero was gunned down at the altar and after four church women from the United States were raped and killed by Salvadoran soldiers. Two of the women, Maryknoll sisters Maura Clarke and Ita Ford, were friends of mine. Their death forced me to confront what was happening in this small Central American country. Roy Bourgeois MM writes that prison can be a good place to read Scripture, pray, and do ministry. His address is Register No. 01579-017; PMB 1000; Tallahassee, Florida 32301. 504 Review for Religious After several trips to E1 Salvador, it became clear that the problem was not "communism" or "subversion" but hunger. As is the case almost everywhere in Latin America, the wealth, power, and land of E1 Salvador are in the hands of an elite few. While these live in huge mansions where they are waited on by servants and enjoy frequent vacations and shopping sprees in the United States and Europe, most Salvadorans live in dehumanizing pover.ty and die before their time. The poor, once told that their suffering was the will of God, now know better as they gather in small groups to read and reflect on the word of God. They now real-ize that their poverty and suffering are the result of exploitation, greed, and irresponsible stew-ardship of God's creation. In May 1983, five hundred Salvadoran sol-diers arrived at Fort Benning, Georgia, to undergo U.S. Army training. At the time, I was speaking at churches and colleges in New Orleans about the injustice of U.S. military aid to E1 Salvador. I felt it was no time for business as usual, so I went to Columbus, Georgia, the home of Fort Benning, and began meeting with local residents. After two months of meet-ings, talks, and prayer vigils, three of us decided to enter Fort Benning at night, dressed as U.S. Army officers. Armed with a.high-powered cassette player, we climbed a tall pine tree near the barracks that housed the Salvadoran soldiers. At lights out, we tuned the cassette player to its highest volume and played Archbishop Romero's last homily, given in the cathedral the day before he was assassinated; in it he called on the military to stop the killing and lay down their arms. We were arrested, tried for criminal trespass ~and impersonating military officers, and sen-tenced to eighteen months' imprisonment. After serving my term I sought a few months of silence and solitude at. a Trappist monastery, then returned to the pulpit and classroom. On 16 November 1989 six Jesuit priests, their coworker, and her fifteen-year-old daughter were brutally murdered in E1 Salvador. According to a U.S. Congressional task force sent to El Salvador to investigate the massacre, five of the nine soldiers arrested for the slayings had been trained at Fort Benning. Today, hundreds of Salvadoran and other Latin American soldiers are being trained at Fort Benning's School of the Americas. The The problem was not "communism" or "subversion" bu t hunger. .y~dy-August 1992 505 Bourgeois ¯ Scbool of Terror School of the Americas (SOA) was located in Panama before mov-ing to Benning in 1984. Since 1946 this training ground for Latin American soldiers has quietly readied some 45,000 officers and enlisted men for right-wing Latin American governments. Manuel Noriega is a distinguished alumnus, as is General Hugo Banzer of Bolivia. In 1984, when the SOA was forced out of Panama, then Panamanian president Jorge Illueja described the school as "the biggest base of destabilization in Latin America." The foundation of the course work at the School of the Americas is low-intensity conflict (LIC), which, by military ana-lyst Michael Klare's definition, is "that amount of murder, muti-lation, torture, rape, and savagery that is sustainable without triggering widespread public disapproval at home." Students of LIC learn that the enemy is not just an opposing armed force; rather, the enemy can include anyone, armed or unarmed, who threatens the stability of the existing order. Hence, priests, teach-ers, health-care workers, union leaders, cooperative members, and human-rights advocates are among the victims of the School of the Americas. On 3 September 1990, ten of us--Vietnam veterans, Salva-dorans, a teacher, and members of the clergy--began a water-only fast at the entrance of Fort Benning to protest the training of' Salvadoran soldiers. When our fast ended after thirty-five days, our bodies were weak but our spirits remained strong. Miguel Cruz, a Salvadoran in our group who had been forced to leave his country because of a death threat, said, "We have the option to end our fast. However, the poor in my country do not. For them hunger is an everyday occurrence." On November 16, when we had recovered from the fast, three of us--Charles Liteky, a former army chaplain who had received the Medal of Honor for heroism in Vietnam; his brother Patrick, who had trained at Fort Benning's Infantry School, and I-- returned to Fort Benning to observe the first anniversary of the killing of the six Jesuits and the two women. After a prayer service, we entered the post, placed a white cross with photos of the eight martyrs at the entrance to the School of the Americas, and poured blood in one of the school's main halls. We wanted to impress on our country that we cannot wash our hands of the blood of inno-cent people killed in E1 Salvador by soldiers trained in the United States. We were arrested and tried. A jury found us guilty of dam- '506 Review for Religious aging government property. The Liteky brothers received six-month sentences, and I received sixteen months because of my previous conviction at Fort Benning in 1983. "Was it worth it?" I am often asked by friends and critics alike. Prison is hard and very lonely at times, even with the support of family and friends, who also suffer. My dad cried when I called home to tell him of my sentenc-ing. Yet I feel I did what my faith and the poor called me to do in the face of such violence, death, and suffering. As a Christian I feel I must try to relieve the suffering of the poor and integrate my faith in a loving God with action. It is indeed tragic what our silence did to the people of E1 Salvador over the past twelve years as our po!iticians fun-neled billions of dollars (hard-earned tax money) to a military regime that killed thousands of innocent people. ~ The recent peace accords in E1 Salvador now bring new hope, and it is a time for rebuilding after all the death and destruction. It is also a time for the hundreds of Salvadoran soldiers who continue their training at Fort Benning to go home--along with the troops from Guatemala, Honduras, Venezuela, Peru, Chile, Colombia, Bolivia, and other Latin American countries. I am convinced that we can relieve some of the suffering of the poor in Latin America by closing down the School of the Americas. It is a school of terror and should be shut down. While I am in prison, friends in Georgi~ are carrying on the peace-and-justice work. To learn more about our efforts, write to School of the Americas Watch; P.O. Box 3330; Columbus, Georgia 31903. Archbishop Romero said, "We who have a voice must speak for the voiceless." I pray and hope that we will speak clearly and boldly. As a Christian I feel I must try to relieve the suffering of the poor and integrate my faith in a loving God with action. j~dy-August 1992 507 M. GERARD NWAGWU Women Religious and the African Synod inculturating Following the initial enthusiasm with which our people welcomed Pope John Paul II's announcement of a special assembly for Africa of the Synod of Bishops,l an accom-modating attitude of tolerance for whatever might result from the event seems to have settled in. In such a frame of mind, any document coming from the synod will proba-bly be treated like any other Vatican document---it will be gratefully accepted and respectfully mentioned, but lit-tle else will follow. If, however, the document were to grow out of our experiences and be developed from our contributions, then its contents would have a better chance of being well received and more fully observed. The introductory chapter to the Lineamenta2 speaks of the period of preparation and celebration of the synod as the "tempus acceptabile," the favorable hour, the hour of Africa. This is the hour we have all waited for. It offers us a unique opportunity to bring about some of the changes and modifications religious life in Africa needs. It is a time for religious women in Africa to state our vision of commitment and involvement. This favorable hour con-tinues until the synod is actually celebrated and concluded, As part of this process it is important for us to raise issues and speak out about the problems that women religious encounter as they try to contribute to the work of evan-gelization in Africa. Indeed, for Africans this synod truly M. Gerard Nwagwu does much of her teaching at the Catholic Institute of West Africa; P.O. Box 499; Port Harcourt, Nigeria. 508 Review for Religious promises to be a "third Vatican Council" in what it could accom-plish for us. Consequently the initial period of intense preparation needs to be followed by a continued interest in the synod that fosters a receptive disposition of willingness to adopt its directives. The next generation of religious is likely to question how we made use of this opportunity, criticizing chances wasted and applauding those utilized. The older generation in their turn will be less critical insofar as they have never experienced such an event during their active days and therefore cannot be blamed for not effecting changes. Our contemporaries themselves could point accusing fingers at us if, for all our ideals and foresight, we achie~ced nothing when the circumstances were most opportune. Accepting facts as they are can be a mark of virtue on occa-sion. However, if we were to do that in the present situation, it would indicate complacency and inertia exactly when the action of working toward objectives that will benefit our people is demanded of us. Accepting the status quo just when the church calls us to make a move could indicate a cowardice and portray a fear of "launching out into the deep waters and laying out the nets for a catch," as Christ challenged the Apostles to do at a point when all hope seemed lost.3 We need an openness among ourselves to help us discover our weaknesses, our duties, and our obligations of evangelization--duties that the Code of Canon Law itself demands of religious in canons 211 and 758. Aware of these challenges, we can begin searching for an effective strategy. The Lineamenta presents a good number and variety of themes for our consideration. In any of these themes, the African reli-gious woman-has a role to play, not simply because she is an African or works in Africa, but because her religious life is directly intertwined with the life of the church. Vatican II witnessed to the fact that at no time in history has the church lacked some form of religious life.4 Religious life, in other words, is a con-stant and inseparable feature of the church. This universally his-toric fact is no different on African soil. However, it would take us too far afield to dwell on all of'the proposed themes as they relate to women religious in general. Rather let us consider those that focus strictly on the life of women religious in Africa, their apostolates, and their relationship with the world around them. Presently, most of the countries in Africa have celebrated the centenary of the arrival of the early Catholic missionaries. The few July-August 1992 509 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod who have not will do so in the near future. Mmost everywhere the native indigenous clergy have assumed the direction of the particular churches, on both the diocesan and parish levels. Unfortunately the same cannot be said for all congregations of religious women in Africa.5 These factors and others highlight the growth of the church in Africa. Specifically, religious institutes are not left behind in the development. The momentous rise in the number of vocations to the religious life, especially in women's congregations, attests to this growth. Indeed the problem for many religious commu-nities is not so much trying to attract candidates but finding ways of adequately training and forming them in the spiritual and apos-tolic life. It is no wonder that foreign religious institutes endeavor to recruit girls from Africa to fill up their depleted ranks. Such recruiting, however, has been limited and conditioned by the authorities since it has often left a trail of disillusioned women who believed they were sent abroad for further studies, only to find that they were meant to supply domestic services. Though the road remains open for taking candidates abroad, yet some condi-tions must be fulfilled.6 The obvious growth of the church in Africa is one of the "signs of the times" that determine the form evangelization should assume in our midst. The evangelization that starts first with inte-rior conversion of hearts, matures to a personal witness of life, and finally develops into external commitments and service is the type that best suits the vocation of religious women. Before evan-gelizing others we must evangelize ourselves, for only after we have been converted can we support those around us.7 We shall be witnesses, yes, but only after an interior transformation of heart. Through such an authentic witness of the life of the evan-gelical counsels, we can make our own contribution to the new stage of evangelization required in Africa. With regard to reli-gious life, this first stage of evangelization involVes modeling to our people the values of total dedication and consecration to God with a hope of evoking a corresponding response from young women and men to embrace religious life. The second stage of renewed evangelization which suits our time is that of deepen-ing the faith of those who already believe and are baptized, We are already experiencing an influx of vocations, but how deep is their faith, how reliable is their commitment? Religious women, particularly, must ask probing questions, 510 Review for Religious admit the facts, and make worthwhile proposals. The point at issue is whether we realize that the effective contribution of women religious in the evangelization of Africa depends first on the genuine and generous commitments of our communities and second on the spiritual and apostolic formation we give our younger members. The vitality of religious life in Africa depends on these elements and on its being a true witness of the presence and love of God among our people. Such an objective compels us to examine some of the negative currents that undermine our abil-ity to evangelize our people in the manner referred to above. Primary among the negative currents is the wind of secularism that has blown through the world from the 1980s to the present day and has begun to register its presence in Africa. Some see it as materialism, others as atheistic humanism. Secularism, as Pope Paul VI has pointed out, views the world as entirely self-explanatory without any reference to God, who thus becomes unnecessary and is, as it were, an embarrassment. Secularism of this kind seeks to assert the power of humankind and leads to a situation in which God is ignored and denied.8 An allied expression is secularization. Where secularism is a theory and an ideology leading to denial of God, secularization is, instead, the fact and reality of experiencing life with a secular-ized mentality and attitude--that is, evaluating life from a worldly point of view. This, then, is the new form of atheism by which God is perceived to be less present, less necessary, less capable of providing a valid explanation of personal or social life experi-ences. In its undiluted form, secularization should not find a stronghold in Africa, given the characteristic spiritual vision of life within an African society wherein the divine permeates all aspects of life. However, what has invaded this sense of the sacred is the aftermath of secularization, revealed in such characteristics as superficiality, the desire for power and domination over others, autonomy and individualism, and a pleasure-loving orientation. Within our religious circles, when we lack an original experience of God and consequently fail to lead others to a similar experience, the evangelical counsels are confused or glossed over in various attempts to describe, them. We shall be witnesses only after an interior transformation of heart. j-~uly-August 1992 511 Nwag~u ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Poverty is explained away in the tendency to acquire and accu-mulate in the name of the congregation; chastity in the necessity of having the comfort, convenience, and satisfaction of personal fulfillment; obedience in the assertion of autonomy and individ-uality as marks of our uniqueness and originality. In the maze of such ambiguity, the question for religious women to answer is whether at the present stage of their religious experience they can lay claim to preserving in full the religious sense and charac-ter of their consecration. Where secularization has made its mark, it is difficult to be a witness of the Gospel message. Secularism holds out to us the values of the world and urges us to conform; the Gospel offers us the mind and values of Christ. If we examine our situation and find out that our choices are secular in character, it is important for us to admit it, and so be able to discover what strategy to adopt con-cerning it. The type of choices we make and the attitudes we have clearly show whether we are evangelized at heart or not. On a secondary level the way we treat each other and the interpersonal regard we nurture in our communities would truly show if the Gospel values were operating among us. For when we continue to make discriminatory preferences between persons or congregations, then our witnessing cannot be anything but counterproductive to the task of evangelization. When we are carrying out a common objective, what should matter is the appre-ciation of a sister as a religious and the virtues she possesses for her to be entrusted with an undertaking which she will accomplish in the name of all, not whether she is a member of one congre-gation rather than another, or whether she has occupied a position of importance in her institute, or whether she has important con-nections, and so forth. Evangelizing witness on the community level is likely to be rendered nugatory as ~vell if, instead of the communion and unity which religious life signifies, we have the division and disunity of uncoordinated activity. The difficulties occasioned by lack of cooperation and coordination are most often seen between dif-ferent congregations rather than between members of the same institute. How often have we witnessed the complaints and dis-enchantment of institutes whose services are unceremoniously terminated in a place in favor of another institute--especially when the institute that takes up the apostolate in question may be completely ignorant of how the first institute left the scene! Such 512 Review for Religious a practice is exploitive and appears to be based on the availability of women religious. Apart from the circumstance related above in which two con-gregations of religious women are made to be victims at the same time, division of opinion among institutes is certainly a question that needs to be considered if the challenges of our times are to be adequately addressed. The church regards women religious as experts in communion both because of the communitarian quality of our consecration and because of our natural tendency to bond ourselves closely to oth-ers. Our best field of operation, therefore, is to work for unity and communion within our African church in all its various components. Women have a great capacity for personal adaptation in the face of the varied and often unexpected needs of the real life of societies and churches. We are thus often in a better position to ensure not merely the survival but even the development of evangelization.9 A determination to form deeper and stronger bonds of solidarity and sharing between our various institutes is the best way to confront the changing political, economic, and social conditions of our times. Such operative and meaningful solidarity will happen if various congregations are able to evolve while each institute retains its unique identity and character. As Pope Paul VI told us,'° we are missionaries to ourselves at this stage of the evangelization of Africa. We Africans are cat-echizing and witnessing t6 our own people in our home missions. We are also undertaking the evangelization of other African coun-tries outside our homeland--not overlooking, of course, the invaluable assistance offered by our foreign missionaries. Taking into account the greater number of women .religious, these foreign missions are mostly operated by religious sisters. We must ask ourselves, therefore, whether there exists a corresponding mis-sionary cooperation between the various religious congregations whose members labor on these foreign missions, or whether mis-sionaries carry along with them to the missions the lack of coop-eration and perhaps rivalry which possibly exists at home. We need to remember the call of John Paul II as he spoke about the problems facing evangelization in Africa: secularization has made its mark, it is difficult to be a witness of the Gospel message. July-August 1992 513 Nwagcvu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Let all form one unity. Let everything be done to smooth and multiply the ways of mutual esteem, of fraternity, of collaboration. May anything that might be the cause of suf-ferings or casting aside, for one group or another, be ban-ished! May all be penetrated with sentiments of humility and of mutual service! For Christ! For the witness of the church! For the progress of evangelization!'~ With a unified front, we religious could more easily discover new approaches to problems that arise in the apostolate. These problems include the challenge of Islam and the determination of Muslims to spread the Koran from coast to coast by whatever means available. Carrying arms and matching violence with vio-lence is definitely not what the church expects religious women to accomplish in this regard. Neither is it possible to close our eyes and imagine that the friction and conflict with Muslims will even-tually ease off while we do nothing. We must, however, evaluate our strength and discover unobtrusive ways to reduce the threat of Islam for our people. In the face of such an offensive, the church has in the past usually adopted the practice of intensified prayer and a rigorous asceticism lived with generous hearts. Some apostolic religious institutes were founded to labor in countries of Islamic faith. But there are relatively few, if any, contemplative orders founded exclusively for the propagation of faith among Muslims. Such contemplative orders, which by their i~rayers, works of penance, and sacrifices labor to effect the conversion of souls, are crucial for the growth of Christian faith amidst the increased onslaught of Islamic hostility. It would be a welcome endeavor if the tendency our religious folk have to found new religious institutes is allowed to mature into communities that will pitch their tents among the Muslims of our country despite foreseeable opposition and even death. If such an inspiration of the Spirit were to happen, it would cer-tainly respond to the needs of the times. The challenge of Islam requires a radical religious decision. It calls for active institutes to reawaken their consciousness of the value and practice of the con-templative dimension of religious life. The Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes exhorts: The contemplative dimension is the real secret of renewal for every religious life. Being a reality of grace, it preserves in the religious the commitment to bear witness before the world to the primacy of a personal relationship with God. They can thus avoid the constant danger for apostolic work- 514 Review for Religious ers who often become so much involved in their work for the Lord as to forget the Lord ofalI work,~z Another area of concern is the proliferation of sects and evan-gelical movements. The increase in their adherents means that some other churches--the traditional Christian churches includ-ing the Catholic Church--are losing members. The sects usually direct their proselytizing toward those who are already Christians and offer them what they apparently cannot get from their mother churches. Again Paul VI sounded the alarm when he noted: It is well known that in some places the church in Africa runs the risk of the fidelity of its sons and daughters being subjected to dangers and struggles, and to being tempted by false teaching. Indeed, Christian faith must become some-thing interior like a personal possession of each individ-ual.' 3 In the face of such phenomena, congregations of women reli-gious can be of immense help to the church if they include this ground among their fields of apostolate for the second stage of evangelizing Africa. By identifying the reasons Christians are attracted to these sects and the group of Catholics that are easily influenced by them, they can develop a strategy for deepening the faith of those most affected. Often a shallow faith, which offers no reply to the vital questions of suffering and pain, poverty and misery, doubts and fears, insecurity and emptiness, sickness and death and so forth, is quickly abandoned for what seems a better way out of problems. Such defections occur where people seek a church that'proffers some human warmth and mutual con-cern, an experience the larger churches cannot easily provide.'4 Even if religious themselves do not minister directly to the sects and their adherents, they can train the Christian laity to assume their role of searching out and reevangelizing their brethren. Similarly, it is important to examine the variety of means of social communications available in order to determine the ones best suited for evangelization in Africa today. Every institute is able to evaluate the effect of each of the means on individual members and on the community. For while it is necessary to know what the world around us is saying through the media, we must not allow it to monopolize our attention and dictate our conver-sational exchanges. Growth in religious commitment does not follow from an indiscriminate and sometimes imprudent use of the mass media, or with the exaggerated and extroverted activism the 3~uly-August 1992 515 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod media can generate, or with an atmosphere of dissipation which contradicts the deepest expectations of religious life. The search for intimacy with God needs silence, never involving noise and confusion.~s Presently, however, our discussion on the media is not how much we adopt them in our communities, but how well we use them for evangelization. Since the various means are each an effi-cacious tool for communication, the message of faith can be divulged to millions of our people at the same time with their aid. What prevents us, for example, from publishing a magazine that focuses on African religious life? Other Christian groups take the lead in the use of media while Catholics lag behind. Sacred songs and music on the thousands of audiocassettes that flood the market are ahnost always produced by Protestant evangelical groups. In the past there used to be a festival of the arts for Catholic schools. Now the competitions organized for parish choirs do not seem to generate the same interest. When an institute chooses to engage some of its members in apostolates using more contemporary methodologies, the initial difficulty will be lack of trained personnel. Requisite educational competence is important; however, some religious superiors are reluctant to send sisters for further studies that take time to com-plete and cause financial constraint, especially in the face of past disappointments. All the same, such reservation should give way before the conditions of our times and the needs of the church, which demand specialized training in some fields of study. No field of study can be superfluous if it furthers the mission of the institute. And since evangelization is a common mission for all, then adequate preparation is necessary for its realization. We cannot meet our contemporaries handicapped. For priests and religious to grow in requisite skills and maturity, it is essen-tial for them to receive the type of formation usually done in cen-ters of study at the university level or in institutes of higher studies. Specialized studies undertaken by religious should be prompted not by a misdirected desire for self-fulfillment with a view to achieving personal ends, but with the sole intention of meeting the apostolic commitments of the religious family itself in the context of the needs of the church.16 In view of the renewed call to evangelize, some significant changes may have to be made in the initial stages of formation. This sensitive area touches the autonomy and identity of insti- 516 Review for Religious tutes. Nevertheless, some general criteria may be adopted on the intercongregational level while the exact details can be left to the creativity of each institute. A rereading of the conciliar guide-lines for renewal shows that there is no question of simple adap-tations of certain external forms such as the habit. There is question, rather, of a deep edu-cation in attitude and in lifestyle that makes it possible to remain true to oneself even in the new forms of being present--a presence as con-secrated persons who seek the full conversion of people and of society to the ways of the Gospel through personal witness and service.~7 The challenges presented to religious women by the forthcoming synod will demand prayer, discipline, and sacrifice. It will not be easy to effect changes because part of the pattern of life and action we have grown used to will have to be renounced. Though renun-ciation may be spiritually rewarding, it is never gratifying to the ego. All the same, the changes need be made. The "signs of the times" are ripe and they offer us incentives to renew and revise our pattern of life and to give a preferential treatment to the duty of evangelization. The traditional ministries carried out in hospi-tals, schools, and social centers remain important, but their rel-evance in meeting the people of our times and engaging them in faith encounters has diminished. Women religious who are solidly founded in faith and suffi-ciently prepared and who can use their feminine qualities of devo-tion, refinement, faithfulness, and patience and their great capacity to adapt to the unexpected demands of real life can transform sit-uations which would intimidate others who lacked the weapons of faith and culture. In conclusion, let us remember the call of John Paul II and our obligation to respond to his invitation: We cannot meet our contemporaries handicapped. You have lived a first great stage, an irreversible stage. A new stage is open to you. It is no less an exalted one, even if it necessarily involves new trials, and perhaps the temp-tation of discouragement. It is the stage of perseverance, in which it is necessary to pursue the strengthening of the faith, the conversion in depth of souls and ways of life, so that they will correspond better and better to your sublime Christian vocation.18 July-August 1992 517 Nwag-wu ¯ Women Religious and the African Synod Notes i The exact date for the synod has not been set, but observers do not expect it to take place before 1994 or 1993 at the earliest. ~" Lineamenta, General Secretariat of the Synod of Bishops, Vatican City, 1990. 3 Luke 5:4. 4 Lumen Gentium §44. s Some congregations of women religious still have nonindigenous administrative personnel. 6 This includes the establishment of a local community in the area, which in turn requires.that a diocesan bishop invite the institute in ques-tion to his diocese. 7 Luke 22:32. 8 Paul VI, Evangelii Nuntiandi, §55. 9 Sacred Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples, Dans le Cadre, The Role of Women in Evangelization, in Vatican Council H Postconciliar Documents, vol. 2, p. 322. l0 Paul VI, Inaugural Session of SECAM, Kampala, 1969. llJohn Paul II, Address to Zairean Bishops 3 May 1980, in Origins 10, no. 1, p. 6. 12 SCRIS, La Plenaria, The Contemplative Dimension of Religious Life, January 1980, §§ 2, 4, and 30. 13 Paul VI, Address at the 4th Plenary Assembly of SECAM, September 1975. 14 Paul V-I, Evangelii Nuntiandi, §58. is SCRIS, La Plenaria, §14. 16 SCRIS, Mutuae Relationes, §31 and §26. ~7 SCRIS, La Scelte Evangeliche, On Religious and Human Development, January 1981, §32. is John Paul II, Address to Priests and Religious, Zaire, 1980. 518 Review for Religious JENNIFER MARY ALT Rerooting Religi ous Life in South Africa the dialogue has been to develop a religious-life spirituality that would be less foreign and more of a special flowering and inter-pretation of African human and spiritual values. These values encompass all of human life. The spiritual is never seen as apart from the material, and people are seen as depending on other people, and therefore on the Divine, for life and meaning. Outside of their social relationships, individuals are less than nothing. If religious life became better integrated with native African spiri-tual values, it would witness more clearly and bring greater hope to South Africa's strife-torn people. Religious life is not foreign to Africa. In fact, its cradle is to be found in North Africa in the early centuries of Christianity. Organized religious life took its conception from the life and work of the Desert Fathers and was rooted in the form of Christianity found among the rural tribal people of North Africa. This rural tribal Christian expression was eventually declared heretical and has since been known as the Donatist heresy.- St. Augustine, the well-known urban African, a man cut off from his Jennifer Mary Alt OP, a member of the Cabra Dominican Sisters, is director of the Catholic Centre for Spiritual Growth sponsored by the Southern African Catholic Bishops Conference. With her doctoral research in cross-cultural personality studies, she has worked with religious in developing an African religious spirituality. She may be addressed at the Catholic Centre for Human and Spiritual Growth; P.O. Box 53 505; Troyeville (JHB); 2139 South Africa. ~uly-August 1992 519 Alt . .Re~roo~ng Religious Life cultural roots, was chiefly responsible for the suppression of the Donatists. Early North African Christianity was predominantly rural. These rural Christians had been formed by their own primal reli-gion. This religion revolved around being in harmony with the spiritual in life. The Ancestors--important good people who had died and who then lived on in spirit in the living--were seen as important mediators of the spiritual. Life among humans was seen as essentially social, and people got their meaning and pur-pose from living and working in harmony with other people. To be in a group was part of life. Over fifteen hundred years separate us from these earlier times, and Africa south of the Sahara is in a different position today. Yet it too moves from a very strong primal religious back-ground. In parts of Africa, for instance South Africa, much of the primal past has disappeared, but the beauty of its spirit remains. Unless one pays attention to it, one will find it difficult to under-stand the modern movements in religious life in Africa. A primal outlook on life in terms of human values is'a profound way of looking at it. The work of the Divine is easily seen in it. The connectedness between this outlook and the teachings of Jesus is easy to recognize. Unfortunately, modern religious life has been presented in Africa south of the Sahara as something foreign and Western, as something that has nothing to do with African values. In fact, African values had to be somehow discarded as one entered a reli-gious order. Westerners find the intricacies of life in Africa very difficult to understand and, without ill will, have misjudged much of what they saw, dismissing it as primitive and pagan. It is exceedingly important for people entering religious life to realize the continuity between the values they were given in their families and the values outlined in their religious rule. African religious largely see religious life as divorced from their past, as something quite other. They see the rules and regula-tions of religious living as something totally new which has to be learned. Because of this the rules of religious life remain largely outside of them. The rules have little effect on their feelings and attitudes. The result is that religious life tends to lose its mean-ing and become more a drudgery than a life-giving program. There is a saying which is practically ubiquitous in Africa. It runs in South Africa: "People are made people through other 520 Review for Religious people." In Swahili a similar saying is: "I am, you are, and because you are, I am." This circular statement sums up the insight which Africans have about people depending on one another and the insight that without people the individual is nothing. This aware-ness of dependence and interdependence is a far cry from the individualism of the modern. Western outlook. Dependence on God is the source of all spir-ituality and is clearly discernible in the African outlook. Africa has a strong belief in the spiri-tual life. Death is seen not so much as an ending, but as a passing into a spiritual way of being. In Africa everything material has its spiritual equiv-alent. In fact, nothing exists without its spirit. It follows that religious life is seen as essentially for the purpose of bringing people into contact with the Divine in a special way. If this does not happen, then religious life for the individual tends to remain on a material and self-centered level. The religious vocation is a call to a special relationship with the spiritual realm. Religious with their vows of chastity, poverty, and obedience are marked as essentially different from others, for they are in a sense outside the primal group of family, clan, and nation. They live in an area of liminality in life and in this area make contact with the Divine. Everywhere in Africa the call to the spiritual is treated with great respect and reverence. The call is seen as mysterious and very important. It is not questioned. Take, for example, persons who discern that they are called to be a sangorna, to be one who understands the relationship between the material and the Divine and who is specially equipped to interpret rifts that occur between the human and the Divine, rifts that are seen as the cause of all mental and physical illness. Such calls will not be dismissed lightly, and people will undergo rigorous training to equip themselves for their special task as a sangoma. The religious call is seen in this context. It also comes from the Ancestors of the family, and therefore no one should interfere with it. The Ancestors will protect the person so called. Africans believe that when outstanding members of the family or the nation die, they join the living dead. They live on in spirit in another member of the family. As a human being casts a shadow, so each human in the flesh represents the spirit of an Ancestor. A parent 'People are made people through other people.' 3n-uly-Augus~ 1992 521 who first refused to allow a daughter to enter a convent remarked on her behavior: "I was fighting with the Ancestors." In Africa the spiritual revolves around the Ancestors, who mediate the Divine in life. The blessing of the Ancestors needs to be invoked in all circumstances. This ancient method of prayer might seem fundamentalist to a Western person, but it suits many people in the indigenous churches. They invoke God in all cir-cumstances: when getting up in the morning, at the beginning of all jobs--nothing, in fact, is done without prayer to the Ancestors. MI church services center on asking the Ancestors for blessing and healing of any rifts between the living dead and the humans in the flesh. Prayer then centers on the spirit of reverence and respect: through prayer, healing and forgiveness are brought to ordinary human relationships, and rifts with the Ancestors are healed. In this way the negative effects in our lives are resolved, and we become healthy again. Religious in this context are people who are especially moved by the spirit, in a charismatic sense. Prayer then is warm, spon-taneous, and real. But if religious life is seen by Africans as a bureaucratic organization in which material advantages follow the keeping of the rules, even though many of the rules may cen-ter on saying prayers; then it remains outside the person and will not lead to a true conversion of heart. Young people who enter often see a religious house as a house protected by God. They see religious as being protected by God, and the convent as a place of shelter from the storms of life; God will protect the people whom he has called. Many young people enter to be protected from the violence in the streets. Young girls come to escape being raped. Parents send children to convents in order to prevent .them from joining gangs. As people turn to sangomas (the spiritual healers) to protect themselves from the chaos around them, so they send their young girls to convents for the same protection. They feel that no evil can enter a reli-gious house. They also feel that God protects his religious from economic disaster. Young people and their parents see religious houses as places where people will be educated, fed, and housed; as places where the chaos of grinding poverty and ignorance will be kept at bay. Religious will be protected from thes~ material disasters. It is essential in these circumstances to help young people, through self-reflection, to an acceptance of their African values in 522 Review for Religious the light of the Gospel values. This helps to bring about a con-version of heart in which the person is moved to choose Jesus and break out into the wider world of other people and their needs. Young persons, in answering their call, answer it on behalf of their entire family and the Ancestors whom they embody in their life. Therefore, when young people join a religious order, they do not come as mere individuals with little significance. They come as deserving of great respect. They are not alienated people of no back-ground. They are not nobodies. God calls people through an entire network of relationships. Young religious who respond are responsible, therefore, for answering the call of the entire network. This gives the religious a great sense of sup-port and responsibility. To know that one bears the spirit of a beloved grandmother or grandfa-ther in one's life makes the path less precarious, less lonely, and more meaningful. Second, it gives the religious a great sense of dignity and worth. Religious need to respect their own call, and others must respect it too. Without this sense of reverence and respect, the young reli-gious fails to have any sense of liminality. Religious life then becomes more a question of obeying external laws which do not touch the heart and of obtaining an education. Instead of reli-gious life being a development or an exploration of the spiritual, it can become monotonous and meaningless. When the crises come, as come they must, the religious will not choose Jesus, but will make an easier, more selfish choice. A common saying in Africa expresses this lack of conviction and choice: "That person is a Christian by day and an African by night!" A difficulty inherent in the above outlook arises when a reli-gious wishes to leave the convent. Leaving is looked upon as a disaster: the religious loses her ties with God. Her relationship with him is broken. It is in the light of this broken relationship that all future troubles will be judged. The following example is typical: A young'sister left a religious congregation and then failed to pass her nursing examination. She moved to teaching and was equally unsuccessful. This was seen to be the result of leaving the convent, not the result of lack of sufficient talent. It is important to stress, therefore, that the divine call arises out of our baptismal God calls people through an entire network of relationships. j~ly-August 1992 523 Alt . Rerootin Reli "ous Life call. It is this call that must be answered, whether it is lived out in the context of religious life or not. In Africa, to be in a group is part of life. The richness of the human exchange in a community enriches the individual. The individual who is not included in this exchange is drained of life, so to speak. Group living is full of all that is human. Contentment, excitement, joy, happiness, and security are part of that living as are tensions, fears, suspicions, and disharmony. But the underly-ing attitudes of loyalty and respect can keep a group together through major emotional upheavals. In Africa, people truly live community. In the West, people tend to theorize and talk about community, but find it difficult to live it. Both lifestyles have their problems. In Africa, people are meant to live in harmony with one another and with the Ancestors. The individual is meant to enrich the lives of others and to be enriched in return. A religious group thatis not living a life filled With the Spirit will tend to exhibit the spirits of discord and chaos. In such close-knit and complex living together, the individual can feel very vul-nerable. Fear of one another, fear of authority figures, is a natural component of such living. Unless the group is living in the Spirit, fear instead of acceptance and warmth can dominate the group. Community life is held back by fear. Individuals will keep quiet at community meetings, for example. Many opinions which could build up a community are not stated. This can lead to seri-ous mistakes being made. Superiors can go unchallenged and do irresponsible things. Individuals who choose to live a life which is not in accordance with their vows are also left unchallenged because others are afraid to say anything. Those who have this fear feel humiliated and inferior; they grow depressed; in the end, tension shows itself as an illness. Such fear of disharmony, of expressing conflicting opinions, can cause great problems to social and group life in Africa. If disharmony and conflicts arise, the group tends to split and quickly polarize. This process is very evident in the histories of many of the African Independent Churches. African political leaders have generally chosen a one-party style of government in order to avoid disharmony. In so doing they have introduced a totalitarian system which in practice is marked by tribalism and greed. Modern urban societies demand that we learn to live with some disharmony and difference of opinion. In fact, differences of opin- 524 Review.for Religious ion can lead to positive growth, for without differences adaptation to changing times and circumstances cannot take place. In Africa the method of handling differences is for the entire group to°come together and to discuss fully the pros and cons of the different opinions. In these long conversations each person is listened to, and the conversation does not end until consensus is reached. This is like methods of conflict management in the West. The Gospel message of Jesus enhances and brings to fruition the message which Africa can give our world in terms of the interdependence of humans and their dependence on the Divine. The message of Jesus is close to the heart of the African experience of human living together. The message of the great religious founders like St. Benedict finds spontaneous resonance in Africa. The message of religious life, which strives to express the values of the Gospel of Jesus, is not much different from African value systems. The message of Jesus helps people choose less selfish values. In Africa, choices are made according to how a person feels. They tend to be made in terms of present time. A person might, there-fore, at one time choose some abstract Christian value and at another time choose against the same value. But people who are moved by the Spirit choose more responsibly. For instance, peo-ple might not feel like helping when help is needed, but if they are filled with the Spirit, they will go against that feeling and help nevertheless. Or, again, people may feel like getting revenge by not sharing, but if they are filled with the Spirit, they will share. The transcendent message of Jesus helps people to consider beyond this present moment. Christians need to think about the consequences of present actions: Would the future be better, more Christian, as a result of choices we might make now? Often enough, thoughtless pragmatic choices can bring immediate sat-isfaction in terms of money, goods, or pleasant feelings, but the long-term effects of these choices can be extremly destructive. Africa is full of examples of people who pragmatically and selfishly participated in their own destruction. Africans took part in the slave trade. African leaders have greedily plotted the economic ruin of the countries they govern. Tribal rural people have taken The message of Jesus is close to the heart of the African experience of human living together. AI~ o R~'ng Reli ~ou~ monetary handouts from the West, which have led to the destruc-tion of their way of life and to a dependency on further hand-outs. Other cultures can be less utilitarian and selfish by taking their heritage very seriously and protecting it. The Chinese, .Japanese, and Indians have not allowed Western materialism and individualism free access into their cultures, and they have been less enthusiastic in terms of cooperating with the West. Africa can be rather like Esau, who sold his birthright for a mess of pot-tage, because Africa does not appreciate the richness of its social and spiritual heritage for itself and for the world. The message of.jesus builds deeper trust. Christ has through his death and resurrection conquered death and despair. He is above all spirits. He is above all ancestors. There is no need for Christians to fear curses or sangomas or their neighbor. Life for Christians is secure because .jesus has already overcome the spirit of death and chaos. .Jesus speaks a message of love of one's neighbor and of one's enemy. Christians have to consider people who do not belong to their group or clan as nevertheless belonging to the family of .Jesus. Such "outsiders" are not objects, and they must be treated with love and respect. In this way the Christian message brings peace to the troubled area of ethnic and tribal violence--some-thing which has brought misery and death to many millions in Africa and has impoverished whole nations of people. If Christ's message is allowed to bring to fruition the values which the African people received from-God through the Ancestors, much that is unauthentic can be removed from African life even as its contact with the West increases. 526 Review for Religious ALBERT DI IANNI Religious Life and Religion Some recent discussions on "refounding" religious life in which I participated were passionate and at times ended in discord. Admittedly the groups involved were tired and overworked, but this was not the whole explanation. The heat manifested in exchanges about potential cures for the ills of contemporary religious life springs from a deeper source, from a basic disagreement about the nature of Christianity and of religion. When I first encountered the notion of"refounding" currently in vogue, I welcomed it as an improvement over "renewal" because it seemed to demand a deeper conver-sion and a more radical rebuilding. It brought to mind the Carmelite reform at the hands of Teresa of Avila and John of the Cross through an inventive retrieval of the spirit and discipline of the founders. Refounding seemed to invite us to set out once again upon a religious adven-ture demanding both great sacrifice and an engagement with the world that remained in some way separate from the world. Resistance to the notion mounted, however, with the repeated calls to identify "change agents" in the group who might encourage creativity in ministry and develop alternative community lifestyles. The more speakers lim-ited their discussions to talk about "delivery systems" for Albert DiIanni SM serves as vicar general of the Society of Mary (Marist). His address is Via Messandro Poerio 63; 00152 Rome; Italy. living religiously ~-uly-dug~_st 1992 527 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion change, namely, leadership models derived from anthropology and from corporate-reflection techniques borrowed from busi-ness psychology--the more they discussed only means--the more I felt I was being bundled down some primrose path. Before I discuss means, I want to discuss goals; before I accept help to move forward, I want to determine where I, where we, should want to go. This is possibly because I suspect that I do not want to go where some speakers want to lead me or that their advice about means carries some hidden freight about goals with which I do not concur. In a recent conversation about refounding, I found myself suddenly compelled to ask some strange, basic questions, not about religious life but about religion: What, for you, constitutes the heart of the Christian religion? What is its basic meaning or purpose? What engenders religion in the first place? Such ques-tions came to mind because I suddenly realized that our dis-agreement lay at a deep level, that we could not simply assume we would all answer such fundamental questions in the same way. This was not because anyone had expressly denied any belief which I held, but becaus{ they seemed to deflect or sidestep cer-tain ideas as old-fashioned or not in line with the particular action steps being recommended. The urge to ask fundamental questions comes upon me espe-cially when I sense that religion is being reduced to sociology, psychology, or even to morality, be it personal, social, or ecolog-ical morality. In fact, any tendency to reduce religion to morality fires me up more than sociological or psychological reductions because it is more subtle and plausible and thus more seductive. But let me put my own cards on the table. What do I believe is at the heart of the Christian religion? (I will ignore the eso-teric distinction drawn by some between faith and religion and the theory that Christianity is not a religion but.a faith.) Though Christianity like other religions is an amalgam of many compo-nents, I believe that its strictly religious aspect lies in its being an answer to the experience of human contingency and the con-tingency of the world. Most people at some time in their lives have felt wonder that the world exists at all and have faced into the void of their own death. They moved beyond the taken-for-grant-edness of the world and became frightened by the thought that nothing at all might have existed and no possibility of anything. They wondered if there were an ultimate meaning to life or if 528 Review for Religious humans were but a sport of nature. Christianity's central doctrine is that the world need not have existed and that it was the object of creation by a good God. A Christian believer is convinced that at the center of the universe is not a surd but a personal Love. The philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein was not a believer. Norman Malcolm, his former student and biographer, says that he could not be called a religious person, but that he was passionately interested in religion and always seemed close to the possibility of religion. Wittgenstein once produced two examples of what he consid-ered bona fide religious experiences as opposed to moral or aesthetic ones. He respected them even if he thought that in entertaining them he was running up against the limits of language. One was the experi-ence of uncanniness that the world exists at all. The second was the conviction he some-times had that, whatever might happen, he would be safe. Neither of these experiences points of necessity to the existence of some transcen- The urge to ask fundamental questions comes upon me when I sense that religion is being reduced to sociology, psychology, or even to morality. dent reality, but they provide, the experiential ground from which many people move to affirm the existence of God. In such feelings and experiences, the affirmation that God exists is existentially grounded, becomes more than an intellectual proposition, takes root, finds a home. The first experience is the sense that a fleet-ing world must be rooted in a stable fundamental Reality. The second bespeaks a trust that cannot be explained without the pres-ence of a loving center of the universe. My own thoughts about religion center on experiences of this type. Admittedly my idea of religion has strong mystical over-tones; it is our response to radical contingency and, in its most primitive and deepest meaning, has little to do with morality. Religion refers primarily to a "holy" space out of which we and the world spring and gives rise to the imperative that each of us become holy, living our life in and for God. Beyond this I know that religion and morality are intimately intertwined and that a religious or holy person must also be morally good. One can hardly be holy and evil. Holiness means in part being extraordinarily kind, socially just, honest, temperate, a ~dy-Augvmt 1992 529 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion peacemaker. Yet it cannot be reduced to the practice of these moral virtues. For it is conceivable that someone could be morally good, could follow punctiliously the rules of a moral system, fos-ter social justice, be chaste and kind, and yet not be a religious per-son. He or she could be moral out of personal taste, by temperament, for aesthetic reasons, or out of natural sympathy toward others, and not because of his or her relationship to God. Philippa.Foot, an Oxford moral philosopher and avowed atheist, once told a seminar group that she was such a moral person and that she refused to be patronized by being called an "anonymous Christian." A Christian religious person not only acts morally, but also sees the world in a new way--that it is dependent for its very existence on a transcendent reality and that this makes all the dif-ference. Because it is focused upon the transcendent, the Christian vision has specific ethical implications different from Enlighteflment theories which place the human person or freedom at the center of the moral endeavor. For the Christian the pri-mary response to the world is not that of owner and Promethean creator, but of humble and obedient creature; not an entrepreneurial relishing of power and freedom, but a Marian gratitude before God for all that God has wrought. From this Christian gratitude is born the imperative to love God and God's creation, to allow God to express the divine mercy through us, especially toward the weak and the abandoned. This Christian gratitude and its ethical implications are nourished and deepened through a close union with God in prayer. It is this vision, it seems to me, which should be at the heart of the life of consecrated religious. If they are to be prophetic, it is in this: that in their lives they point constantly to the tran-scendent moment of the universe and try to develop what it means. It is up to each group to decide how it will express this. Christian meaning exists in--and is to be found in--religious sis-ters, brothers, and priests when they are rapt in contemplation of God as well as when they are picking up dying persons from the streets. When people see one of them unremittingly engaged in both, they believe they are in the presence of a saint. Some contemporary Catholic lay people and members of reli-gious congregations seem to have lost sight of the transcendent pole of Christianity. Their model of Christianity has become what Charles Davis labels "pragmatic." The pragmatic version of 530 Review for Religious Christianity arose, he says, when "the Christian religion ceased to function mythically as an overarching totality . The emphasis therefore shifted to Christianity as a practical way of life or eth-ical system. This is still conceived in religious terms, such as the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood of God's children, the kingdom of righteousness . But all these expressions are different ways of formulating the moral imperatives gov-erning human existence." ~ Both conservatives and liberals have made this pragmatic shift in Christianity. Conservatives stress per-sonal and family morality and such questions as abortion and euthanasia, and progressives stress social justice, ecology, and women's rights. Future historians may judge that the Vatican itself, but to a lesser degree, has been drawn into what I am characterizing as an overemphasis of morality. They may well remember Pope John Paul II as the "morality pope" because of his repeated statements about both per-sonal and social morality. In practice if not in theory, love of neighbor and enemy seem to have taken precedence over con-cern about union with God. Today's heresies all seem to be moral heresies. Not many Catholics seem concerned about dogmas, about trinitarian, soteriological, or Christological errors. And yet the history of the early church reveals that this was not always so. (I am at times tempted to fashion a brand-new trinitarian heresy to spur people to think more about God and less about themselves!) In this excessive emphasis on morality, the modern church reflects our secularized times, the age that mistook the world for God. In the late sixties, a time noted for its air of revolution, our seminary faculty once gathered the seminarians for a discussion on the question: W'hat are the most important qualities for being a priest and religious today? Some suggested approachability, oth-ers learning and competence, still others kindness or some other human virtue. I was surprised that no one spoke of holiness--a sure candidate just ten years before--and I pointed this out to Someone could be morally good, could follow punctiliously the rules of a moral system, foster social justice, be chaste and kind, and yet not be a religious person. ~dy-August 1992 531 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion the group. One of the seminarians fixed me with a stare and said with an air of disdain: "Just be human, Father!" Recently I had the pleasure of interviewing Kiko ArgOello, the Spanish layman and artist who founded the Neo- Catechumenate movement, which offers a series of steps, a way, for modern Catholics to rediscover their baptism and be com-mitted to evangelization. I played the devil's advocate and asked whether his way (camino) of training lay people over a period of years did not produce an arrogant elite and end up creating more division than unity in parishes. His answer was in strict contrast to the seminarian's. He insisted that becoming a Christian today was not easy, regardless of what many priests trained since Vatican II seemed to believe. It did not suffice to simply shout the love slo-gan. Belief that God exists and that Jesus is in some way the son of God was difficult in a secularized culture. Besides, our world of drugs and violence, suburban adultery and abortion, euthana-sia and consumerism, was full of snares. It would not be suffi-cient simply to limit our preaching to a form of positive reinforcement. People had to be called to a public confession of their belief in God and Jesus, be brought to a felt need for con-version, be tested in their resolve, b~ supported by a tightly knit community, and be nourished by an adequate participative' liturgy. Needed, in his view, was a method, a way, a structure, a catechu-menate, 'to bring people squarely before their baptism and its implications for their lives. In so many words he was saying that it was simplistic for the 1968 seminarian to have said: "Just be human, Father." Yes, Christ is at work in the world wherever human good is being done, and we have to recognize and foster such work wher-ever we find it; but we must be aware, too, that fostering human-istic values and being a Christian are not in every way identical. Besides demanding that we be thoroughly moral, Christianity demands belief in many strange things, like the incarnation, the need for redemption, the resurrection, the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist, and the role of Mary. For a time in my adolescence, I wished I had been brought up neutral vis-~a-vis religion so that at the age of twenty-one I might consider all the major religions and choose among them without the prejudice of early Catholic training or brainwashing. But I know now that this is naive, for I have recognized that young people who have not been brought up in any religion end up by 532 Review for Religious having no religious sentiment or religiosity. They tend to remain religion-neutral, unable to make a choice in favor of any religion. George Lindbeck, a Protestant theologian, believes that, unless some religion is taught to us when we are young, unless we are brought up in some religious prac-tices, we might not even be capable of religious experience. This may be exaggerated, but I am sure it contains a grain of truth. One thing is certain: People are never brought up in a vac-uum of vision and values. If they do not absorb religious vision and val-ues, they absorb the secular vision and religion-neutral values of the movies and television. Especially in Europe several new lay Christian movements and reli-gious orders have been born in full awareness of this: the Focolarini, the Sant' Egidio community, the Neo- Catechumenate, the Lion of Juda, the Legionaries of Christ, and so forth. They all believe that becoming Christian in a secularized world is especially difficult and demands a way, a method, an entry through a kind of Christian subculture. It means leaving behind a lot of things that can seem very important from the world's point of view, but really are not. It demands kenosis, emptying oneself, in preparation for a radical decision in favor of Christ and God. Karl Rahner once declared: "A Christian in today's world will be a mys-tic or else he will not exist." And he went on to speak of mystagogy, the need of a method to lead people to see everything in God. I believe that one reason why religious congregations are in a mere survival situation today is that, in their admirable effort to take a positive view of the world, they have identified religion too strongly with a humanistic morality that tends to be secular-istic, individualistic, and overly egalitarian. History shows that almost all religious congregations enjoyed strong growth at their beginnings. They were exciting and attractive in part because they were new, but part of their attraction lay elsewhere. The early members had a sense of a religious adventure and cause larger than themselves which rendered them willing to forgo many personal rights and privileges.~They were members of what Besides demanding that we be thoroughly moral, Christianity demands belief in many strange things, like the incarnation, the need for redemption, the resurrection. July-August 1992 533 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion have been called "intentional" communities as opposed to various "associational" and "bureaucratic" ones that have come into exis-tence since Vatican II.2 They were quite unconcerned with self-expression and equality, not because they were naive and subservient (today's caricature), but because they were caught up in a higher religious vision that enhanced and focused their ener-gies for God and the church. Most religious congregations were founded for three main purposes, the salvation of the members, the salvation of others, and dedication to a devotion or a way of the apostolate. Their charism did not lie only in the third element but in all three. Their purposes were decidedly religious and eschatological as well as incarnational. Today the eschatological has been pushed aside by an incarnational theology interpreted too secularistically and humanistically. Transcendent themes have been toned down in favor of an emphasis on egalitarian rights, on a type of justice interpreted not only as equity but as evenness, a kind of unifor-mity without differences. Everyone knows that only in unity is strength. But egalitarianism, by its very definition, effects an atomism and separateness within a group inasmuch as it deems individual rights and desires more important than the group's religious cause and adventure. Such stress upon egalitarian and humanistic ideals is an ide-ology. It is one way--and only one way--of interpreting democ-racy and justice in society and in religious groups. To oppose that ideology is not to give up democracy but to give it another inter-pretation. This was brought home to me recently as I overheard a conversation between an Mnerican priest--a born-again egali-tarian- and a young female member of the lay Sant' Egidio com-munity in Rome.3 Describing how the community functioned, she mentioned that in her particular community, because of its makeup and history, only certain men and no women were asked to speak at the prayer services. The American priest objected that this was a grave error, that it was supremely important--as a sym-bol and sign to others if not for her personally--that women be allowed to preach in every community. She answered that the Sant' Egidio community did not approach questions ideologi-cally, but pragmatically. Some of the other communities did have women preachers, but because of its particular history and tal-ents, her group preferred not to have them and she was happy with things as they were. She explained that for the Sant' Egidio 534 Review for Religious group three things were of paramount importance: (1) prayer together over the word of God, (2) friendship or mutual support, and (3) work for and with the poor. All else must cede before the achievement of these goals. The American priest's voice rose as he insisted that she was wrong and that the American interpretation of women's rights was correct. But she stood her ground and deftly changed the sub-ject. We have come full circle. In the 1960s, after many years of repression and an exaggerated supernaturalism, we needed to stress personal free-dom and responsibility and a true equality among the races and sexes. We had to recognize our duty before God to take responsibility to build up a world of justice and peace. But this did.not mean that such concerns should come to prevail in reli-gious congregations and sweep all else away in their wake. Now that we have seen the shadow side of such emphases in religious life, we can bet-ter take stock and rediscover that our involvement with the world must begin beyond the world. While the psychological and political agendas were very important for religious life, neither of them was the "one thing necessary." Religious life should center upon that in Christianity which relates our lives to the transcendent. It is here that we must seek its prophecy. It is in reminding people of the divine enchant-ment of the world that it must be countercultural. It is upon this that reflection on refounding religious life must insist. In her arti-cle "Religious Life and the Need for Salt,''4 Joan Chittister asks the right questions regarding contemporary religious life. She wisely concludes that the project of encouraging self-expression in traditionally repressed religious has now been achieved. She says we must now move to questions about the group and how it can be prophetic in today's world. But her answers, giving her interpretation of prophecy, are still too much centered on ecology, social assistance, and human rights and thus, by remaining within a pragmatic model of Christianity, seem but another reiteration of the program of liberal politics. These liberal concerns are impor-tant and must be addressed by the church: the laity, the clergy, and the religious. But addressing such issues, in my opinion, is not going to be the salvation of religious life. Its problems do not 'A Christian in today's world will be a mystic or else he will not exist.' .July-August 1992 535 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Relig4on arise from a neglect of them. Religious lack, not moral outreach, but religious centering. They fail to realize what the poor them-selves realize and express in their popular religions, that our union with God through Jesus is central, that we must work at it, and that it is primarily in this that we will be countercultural. Which is more countercultural--to say we must strive to save planet earth or to say we truly believe that the dead are with God because Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference? I have made some hard remarks and asked some hard ques-tions, and I would welcome a dialogue about them. I am sure I have not expressed them adequately, but I am convinced that they contain at least a grain of truth. I am encouraged in uttering them by the swing of young people in both Europe and North America toward an interest in the mystical sense of religion. In the 1960s the young were caught up in the humanistic values of psychol-ogy and sociology, but today's youth exhibit a great interest in mysticism, religious cults and movements, apparitions and heal-ings, the afterlife; and even reincarnation and the satanic. Does this not indicate that they are experiencing a deep void of mean-ing in an anorexic and bulimic world where money, notoriety, power, individualism, and equality have become the primary val-ues? Does not this cultural change signal that secular humanism for all its ethical achievements has also been an impoverishment by reason of a dearth of religious imagination? Is it not a sign of the times when people living in sophisticated technological cul-tures begin to be attracted to religious beliefs interpreted in a most .simplistic fashion? I know the good responses to the distinction I draw within Christianity between morality and religion. Most will describe it as dualistic--for contemporary pundits the most damning of epi-thets. They will say, "You are separating things that are essen-tially linked." Love of God and love of neighbor are two aspects of the same thing. If you do not care for the person you see, how can you say you love the God you do not see? Those who love God should find their love's primary expression in their dedica-tion to caring for their neighbor, whether friend or enemy. Prayer is missionary and missionary activity is prayer--and on and on. Others will say that I give a false description of the present sit-uation of religious life; they will deny that those engaged in social justice and ecology tend to pray less and to be less interested in the transcendent, in sacraments, and in the eschatological. 536 Reviezv for Religious I know these rejoinders are partly true, but also that they are partly false. I know that the two aspects of Christianity, religion and morality, love of God and love of neighbor, are very closely intertwined, and I am aware of Karl Rahner's brilliant attempt to conjoin them.5 But I know too that they are conceptually distinct because I have seen them separated in the history of the church. At times the church has experienced the extreme of quietism, an overem-phasis on faith without good works, and other times the heresy of action, a hectic involvement in important works of justice and charity to the detriment of prayer and interiority, the soul of the apostolate. It is up to each of us to examine our life to determine where we are. But I am convinced that the problems of religious life stem only partly from a lack of adequate delivery systems and from ignorance about psychol-ogy, social systemics, and anthropo-logical models in an age of rapid change. I am convinced that their deeper source lies in the confusion between religion and morality and in an insistence upon moral-ity because of a loss of faith and interest in religion. If Christian religion is centered almost exclusively upon doing the moral good, upon promoting social justice and ecology, or upon fighting pornography and abortion, then what is the mean-ing of doctrines and dogmas? Are they but religious, accouter-ments? If so, why not be honest and simply drop them? What is the meaning of the redemption through Christ for a religion reduced to morality? What is the meaning of the Eucharist? Are these dogmas and sacraments only stimuli for action, stories and symbols subtly swaying us to do what is truly important: foster-ing the construction of a socially just and ecologically sound world, creating the. kingdom of morality? Is the resurrection just a story whose real cash value is all those smaller resurrections which can occur in a society, in history, or in each human life? How is a religious congregation which centers so strongly on morality to be differentiated from such groups as UNICEF or the Which is more countercultural - to say we must strive ~ to save planet earth or to say we truly believe that the dead are with God because Jesus rose from the dead and that this makes all the difference ? ~dy-Augzlst 1992 537 Dilanni ¯ Religious Life and Religion A life steeped in prayer will produce something we may have lost: a solid number of holy men and women whose life clearly is centered on God. FAO wherein men and women devote themselves to humanitarian causes at times for wages far lower than they could obtain else-where? I know that, since Vatican II, theologians including Rahner and Schillebeeckx have highlighted the thesis that Christ is at work in the world wherever good is. being done and humane causes are fostered. I am acquainted with the theories that the work of building up the kingdom of God is primarily a matter of our present life in the world, that salvation is not only after death but begins here, that the glory of God is man and woman fully alive. I am in sympathy with such emphases, but must also admit that they do not set me on fire; and judging from the vocation statistics of "progressive" congregations, I know that they have not stirred the young. For in my heart I suspect that such emphases are quite incomplete and were (in part) born of a loss of faith in the transcendent. For me Christianity centers not on us but on God. It demands a different vision of the world and reality, which generates a humble gratitude to the God who is responsible for all that is. One of Christianity's concerns is our inborn tendency to distort our freedom, arising from what Luther called the "in-curvedness" of our will. Christianity is about God and sin and the need for God's grace-ful hand to help us make proper use of our freedom. Christian religion must be about God and our relationship with God not only implicitly but also explicitly. It is from a union with God in prayer that light will emanate on how we are to relate to God, the world, and each other. And if a life is to be devoted to religion in a special way, if it is to be a consecrated religious life, it must be lived primarily in view of this relationship to God, not only in ideal but also in structure. It must be structured in such a way that the life of,the group abets in its members this concern about each one's relationship to God and gives witness of it to others. Such a life steeped in prayer will produce something we may have lost: a solid number of holy men and women whose life clearly is centered on God. If this proves true, young people will surely again be attracted to this kind of life, not so much because 538 Review for Religious it is relevant or more interesting than the world, but simply because religious life so construed and so lived is what it purports to be--religious. Notes ~ What is Living, What is Dead in Christianity Today? (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1986), p. 39. -' See Patricia Wittberg SC, Creating a Future for Religious Life (New York: Paulist Press, 1991

Issue 49.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1990. ; R[ vl~ w ~-OR R~-t ~G~OUS (ISSN 0034-639X) ~,, pubhshed b~-monthly at St Louis Unlver,,~ty by the M~s-soun Prov~nce Educational Institute ol the Society of Jesus: Editorial Office; 3601 Lmdell Blvd. Rm. 428; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Second-class postage paid at St. Louis MO. Single copies $3.50. Subscriptions: United States $15.00 for one year; $28.00 for two years. Other countries: US $20.00 for one year: if airmail. US $35.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address. write: R~vtEw FOR R~-:~.w, ous: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth. MN 55806. POSTMASTER: Send address changes tu R~:vw~:w vor Rv:~.~aot~s; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. ~1990 Rv:vt~.:w vor Rl.:Li~;~ot~s. David L. Fleming, S.J. Philip C. Fischer, S.J. Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Editor Assistant Editors Advisory Board David J. Hassel, S.J. Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. September/October 1990 Volume 49 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to Rv:\'~:w v'o~ Rv:w.uaot~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. I~mis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Eliza-beth McDonough, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. Box 29260; Washington, D.C. 20017. Back issues and reprints should be urdered from Rr:\'~:w roa Rr:~.~;m~s; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. IA~uis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. A major portion uf each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Suciety for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York. NY 10010. PRISMS. At the May meeting of the Advisory Board for REvIEw FOR RELIGtOUS, the members became engrossed in a discussion of the heritages-- Benedictine, Dominican, Salesian, and many others--that consecrated life fosters and should foster in the Church. Sometimes women and men religious forget their special call to be channels of their own spiritual tra-dition and practice. Religious life, signalized in Vatican II documents as belonging to the charismatic structure of the Church, continues to give birth anew to its members by the overshadowing of the Spirit. The particular spiritual in-sights and practices which establish each religious community become permanent gifts not only to the vowed members but also to the whole Church. The Church's recognition and approval is based on this prem-ise. Religious life plays a critical role in carrying forward the Christian spiritual-life traditions in the Church community. The Church expects in-dividual religious and religious families to give witness to their spiritual traditions. It is no surprise, then, that books and journals dealing with the spiritual life (such as REv=Ew FOR REUCtOUS) are so often the product of people living in this consecrated lifeform. In our times we are being made far more aware of the tradition of the Pauline Body of Christ, with the differing gifts of its members. One of the gifts specially present in religious life is its responsibility to hand on the spiritual-life traditions within the Christian community. Obviously God's gifts are never merely self-enhancing, and so religious life was never meant to be a caste apart or its own separate church. The gift of religious life within the Church only heightens the ways that Christians feel called to live out their following of Jesus in their own day--not only the members with a particular religious calling,.but also friends, cowork-ers, students, parishioners---in a word, all who are touched in some way by members of a religious community. This journal's very title could seem to restrict its reading audience to people following a certain consecrated lifeform recognized in the Church. But, as a matter of fact, from its beginnings almost fifty years ago, REvmw FOR REL~CIOUS has invited diocesan priests, bishops, and lay people to find in its pages the roots of our Christian spiritual heritage which nourish us all. The number of subscribers other than religious was small in the beginning, but has grown steadily, especially with the bur- 641 642 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 geoning of ministries and prayer groups in the Church after Vatican II. Articles in REvmw FOR RELm~OtJS will continue to focus on various Christian heritages which religious life helps keep alive in the Church. We hope thereby to provide for all our readers access to roots as well as to budding developments in the living of the Christ-life. The authors in this issue again are representative of our reading audi-ence. For example, Barbara Dent, well-known for her spiritual writings, continues her own experiential reflections on a prayer tradition deep in the Carmelite religious family. Father Richard Lamoureux, a.a., takes an "American" approach to an age-old Augustinian tradition of prayer. The diocesan priest Father Clyde Bonar uses the experiences of St. Fran-cis of Assisi to suffuse with faith the human experience of shame. Dr. James Magee, professor of gerontology, in his article "Planning an In-tercommunity Skilled Nursing Facility," tries to facilitate the working together of religious groups coming from various religious traditions. Perhaps at this time in history we especially need to grow in our ap-preciation of religious life as the purveyor of the Christian spirituality heritage. If we do grow in this way, the Church worldwide will become all the richer in its own life and mission. David L. Fleming, S.J. Moral Issues in Spiritual Direction Shaun McCarty, S.T. Father Shaun McCarty, S.T., teaches in the Washington Theological Union and is a staff member of the Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation. His address is Holy Trinity Mission Seminary; 9001 New Hampshire Avenue; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. My gracefully aging mother has acquired a certain Wisdom from the ex-perience of her years, yet she still seeks confirmation from her clerical eldest in matters of faith and morals! Vatican II suited her just fine be-cause, she says, "It said a lot of things I always thought!" On my weekly visits, she will often begin with, "Now tell me if I'm to think this way, but . " And then she will go on to comment on some issue she has been thinking about in the quiet of her "digs" in a condomin-ium for the elderly (which she sometimes thinks may be the only heaven she will get to!). On the issue of Church: "I go to church because I like to, not because I have to. But I can't see running in and out all the time. Especially when people need you. What good is it to go to church if it does not help you be a better person outside?" On prayer: "God's not just in church. He is (she is not fully feminist yet!) in my apartment too. And I do not think ! have to say a lot of prayers; God and I just have these talks when I say what is on my mind and he talks to me." On sev-eral occasions she has raised this moral issue: "Now tell me if I am wrong to think this way, but I think a lot of these rules that come from the Church are not God's. Most are man-made. Now I think God gave us heads to think ourselves. Not just run off and ask the priest what is right or wrong or wait for the Pope to tell us what to do or not do. If you ask me, I just think the reason people do that is because they are too damn lazy to think for themselves! Now is it wrong for me to be think-ing this way?" I ask her: "Now, Morn, don't you think the Church has 643 644 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 anything to say about what is right or wrong?" She answers: "Of course, but I'm choosy about whom I listen to!" I just smile, shake my head and assure her that she will probably escape ecclesiastical censure! Actually, she gives new meaning, life, and hope for the terms spiritual and moral life! 'Moral is one of those words laden for many with negative undertones ~uch as repressive, punishing, puritan, pharisaical, and the like. Spiri-tual often connotes an a_nemic and pious evasion of down,t0-earth~ d~ ~o-day living. Until we encounter both embodi_e_d_and~i0tegr_~t_ed_i_n~--~l ,rpeople like Mom ,hose lives and choices validate t~]~ch~i'~hg0i~nd prayer! rYOften, too, moral life and spiritual life are separated: the former re- .ferring to what is right and wrong; the latter, to what is good and beetler. 19 the ministry of spiritual direction, which aims primarily-at-'spiri~ual ~rowth, moral issues frequently arise and discrepancies become appa~ ~.nt either within the value system of the dii'ectee, between the dire~tee an~ Church teaching, or between the value systems of the d~rector and the~ dtrectee. What follows wall be an attempt to provide a frame.w~o_rk m which spiritual gu~des~can-tleal'w~th~moral-~ssues'and'grapple with such ~liscrepancies. ~I will first explore the meaning and relationships of some key terms ip.cluding moral and spiritual life, conscience and discernment. Then, I will consider the role of Church as teacher and the role of the spiritual director as guide in the formation of conscience, including some specific ~reas in which the director can be helpful. Finally, I will raise some dif-ficulties that can occur in dealing with moral issues in the ministry of s~iritual direction. ~Moral and Spiritual Life I.n the context of this article, spiritual life means graced growth in the~spirit, that is, in that dimension of human existence by which we are ~.open t~___.transcendent_ rove and drawn by the Spirit into intimate union ~.with God and communion with each other through, with, and in Christ. ~lokalli~ refers t0-th-~t ~i~e~ct of life that has to~do with. human C~h~0~ic~-s ~fi~eely~made~and~lowngl6ehav~ors~freely:embraced~that;-:under:grace, en- ~able one to pursue good, avoid evil, and~ herice, grow hurria-~ly. ,~ As moral theologians point out, unfortunately in the past, there tii~S ~.been and continues to be a split between moral and spiritual theology. Respected Redemptorist theologian, Bernard Haring says: Moral theology for the use of confessors and penitents was almost un- Moral Issues / 645 avoidably guided by the knowledge of dominion and control. Since such a theology, written mostly for controllers, could threaten the freedom of believers in the realm of things solicited by grace, it seemed best to leave out or bypass spirituality . ~ This resulted in a dual track for Christians: one for an elite who wanted to strive for maximum ideals in "seeking perfection" and the other for those who were satisfied to meet minimum expectations in "sav-ing their souls." Beatitudes were for the former; commandments for the latter. Not only was there a split between classes of Christians, but indi-vidual conscience also was divided into two compartments: one for moral norms, the other for "works of supererogation" (those above and be-yond the call of duty!). ~e dichotomies_are unfortunate. Moral and spiritual life are warp and w~i'~?oi;~ameTf:~l~i-U.~'~'~]i~fiaor~a~:~on focuses on an~ai-ea key to human, and therefore, spiritual growth--namely, that of choices that define a person more-thah anything else and behaviors that promot~ ~0~ih~. ;there is a universal call to holiness. To love God with all our hearts and to love others as Christ loves us is a normative ideal for every Christian. The choice is not between a "spiritual" life or a "moral" life. Whether intentional or not, every Christian is on a spiritual journey and summoned to be challenged by the beatitudes as well as by the com-mandments. Again, B. Haring: It is detrimental to the very fundamental norms of Christian ethics, but especially to the formation of a distinctively Christian consciousness, if the law of growth and the criteria for a deeper understanding of Chris-tian love are relegated to another discipline . But it should be equally clear that a distinctively Christian formation of conscience does not belong to those who specialize in "knowledge of control"! For it is at the very heart of salvation.2 The bottom line is that love is the highest common denominator of every moral act as well as the source and goal of all spiritual growth. ~Con~_s_cience ~I~n general, as a faculty of moral lif~-,-~ohscience is concerned with .~ ~ . ~.-:~ ~. . - ~ . .~- ,h~urfian cbOic6s of good or ewl. An ~nformed conscience is the final ar-biter of moral choice. It refers to that element in the experience of free-dom that makes one aware of responsibility and accountability for one's decisions and actions. The biblical term for conscience is "heart" in which God's will is written (Rm 2:15). Theologically speaking, it is "self-consciousness passing moral judgment.' ,3 In speaking of the dig- 646 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 nity of moral conscience, the Fathers of Vatican II described conscience as ". the most secret core and sanctuary of a man (sic). There he is alone with God, whose voice echoes in his depths."4 Conscience may be said to operate at three levels: ~(1) Fundamental level: This refers to th~ hiJFria--ff-~apacity freely t6 ~hoose a life-orientation towards God (the Choi~ce); _tp. p~_rsue .good(the Wight) and to avoid evil (the Darkness) with an awareness of respp.n__s_i~ ~ility and accountabilii'~At this level, one may be said to have a ge~n- ~ral sense of value.' A fundamental choice for the Light assumes that to be human is to have basic freedom and to have a radical openness to the mystery of God which, again, defines a person more than anything else. To take this option is to experience metanoia (change of heart) which af-fects the whole person (body, mind, and spirit). It is an invitation to turn over all of one's energies to God, to put one's life at the disposal of God, to be a disciple in loving service of others as Christ did and to live under the guidance of the Spirit in subsequent day-to-day decisions. It is in the light of this fundamental level of conscience that important life-decisions such as marriage, priesthood, and vowed life should be made. (2) Reflection/assessment level (individual choices): This level con-cerns day-to-_day choices of varying degrees of importance requiring a process of moral reasoning related to concrete situations.~It calls for re-flection, discussion, and analysis. I think it is what my mother means I~y "using the head that God gave us." Here one is concerned with spe-cific perception of value. At this level, there is room for difference, dis-agreement, error, blindness, distortion, rationalization, confusion, and cultural blindness. Consequently, it is primarily at this level that a per-son needs assistance from more objective sources including Sacred Scrip-ture, one's faith community, friends, confessor, and spiritual director. It is precisely at this level that conscience needs continually to be formed and informed. For that to happen effectively, a person needs humility so that conscience can "kneel at the altar of truth" to which conscience is always subject. It is at this level that the teaching Church as reposi-tory of the values of a faith-community, has an important but limited role as moral teacher and one distinct from that of spiritual director. More about this later. ~,~.(3)~Action level: This refers.to.the_moral judgment or choice of wh~t one believes to be right that brings with it a moral imperative to act. At C~his lev~e_l, a person exercises responsibility and accountability for actions ~and for the consequences of actions that conscience commands. A sign of responsible moral choice is growth in willing, compassionate concern/ Moral Issues / 647 action as opposed to willful, selfish action/inaction. In other words, genu-ine moral judgments and decisions find their completion and become enfleshed in moral deeds. pis:ernn~en~t i Discernment refers to the prayerful sorting out of interior movements ~expenenCe~d ~n-theprocess of tnakmg judgments and deos~ons to deter-m~ ne'wh~ch are of the Spent consequently resonant w~th the fundamen-taVl level-of c-~fiscie0.~e.-It presupposes a quest Of interior freedom as w~ll ~.ffs-careful attent~0n to the concrete particulars of a situation taking into i~onsideration subjective feelings as well as objective facts. It is possible to speak also of levels of discernment that bear some correlation with the levels of conscience occurring at: (1) the fundamen-tal (or core) level of faith, where a person becomes aware of God-experience in light of which one perceives that way of life where she or he can best express and pursue a fundamental choice of God and the good; (2) the reflection/assessment level of day-to-day choices of vary-ing degrees of significance and permanence made with a sufficient de-gree of interior freedom and in resonance with one's fundamental expe-rience of God; (3) the action level whereby a discerned judgment or de-cision is brought to completion by translating it into a concrete behavior that, if it is truly discerned, will bear the fruits of the Spirit. Relationship of DiScernment and Conscience Discernment is critical in the process of what lawyer-priest, R.P. Stake, calls the "evangelization of conscience" which entails the power of the Gospel to reveal to an individual the fact and the seriousness of one's sins.5 What discernment brings to the evangelization of conscience in:~ cludes: (l) a sharper focus on the subjective and unique factors at work,] for this person in this .situation (especially important at a time of accel-erating moral complexity and waning adequacy of objective moral norms and extrinsic moral authority); (2) a situating of decision-making within ff ~?a biblical tradition of both Old and New Testaments, especially in the letters of John and Paul;~(3) a rooting and contextualizing of the decision-r~ aklng process in a person's prayer and experience of Go~l; (4) a more ihtentional attempt to examine motivations to see from where they are ~commg and to where they are 'l~ading so as to create the conditions for greater interior freedom in making choices;~(-5) a nuancing of choicest-- not just of the good over the bad, the genuinely good over the supposed good, but also choices among goods; ~(6) in contrast to an excessive de- 6411 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 pendence on laws and authority as sources of moral judgment, discern-ment is conducive to ~clearEr focusing of responsibility four,the decision ~. 3. -- a~nd its cons~equ_e_n-ces on_ the pers_on making the de_.c~!s~on; (~7) ~n contrast to an individualistic and isolated process, a situating of the decision~ making process within the context of a person's faith commUfiity; (,8)~ contrast to a more exclusively rational and deductive approach (~s is often the case in the exercise of prudence ), ] serious~consideration of human affectivit~ as an important locus of grace~in human choice. , In testing the spirits oy measunng them against one s tunoamen-tal God-experience, moral judgments are more likely to be integrated with conscience as well as reinforcing of conscience at the level of one's fundamental choice¯ In short, discernment makes for a more prayerful, thorough, personalized, interiorized, and human process of conscience formation¯ Hopefully the discussion thus far makes clear that discernment is not dispensation from moral law, but rather an invaluable help in observing it. Rather than an "occasional exercise," discernment presupposes the cultivation of a "prayerful mode" and commitment to contemplative practice that can clarify one's vision and solidify one's dedication to truth¯ It is interesting to note that moral theologians today are showing a marked interest in a discernment approach to moral choice.6 ~,Role of the Church in Formation of Conscience ~The Church (understood as the e~n~ir'~Z~P~'o~le~f~G~d)~ qt preserves and hands down a faith-community's values, is an impor-tant, but limited agent in the evangelization of conscience¯ The teaching ~'Church is not a substitute for conscience; nor is its proper role one o~ ~Grand Inquisitor"; nor yet is it the ultimate arbiter of morality¯ Con-science is. But the Church is a privileged moral teacher and recognized ~leader that plays a significant role in thg~ilJp_mination of conscience. It d~es not create morality. Rather it helps people to discover God's de-sires for humankind which are written on the "fleshy tablets" of the hu- ~man heart¯ Not only does the Church embrace historically and cross-culturally an experience far wider than that of a single individual or cul-ture, but believers hold that the Church has special guidance from the Holy Spirit. Though the Church cannot be expected to address all the val-ues in every moral situation, it can provide norms against which people can measure their own moral judgment. Such norms protect values. Val-ues may be protected in different ways in different eras and/or cultures. Above all, the Church is eminently equipped to help form mature Chris-tian consciences that will enable people to accept responsibility for "us- Moral Issues / 6t19 ing the heads God gave them" in arriving at sound moral decisions. ~Role of-Sp~tual Director in Formation of Conscience ¯ ,Since:mOraVand~spiritual~life:should not'be d~vided~ the~d~rector ob7- ~o~s.~y ~ concerned w~th the moral choices of the directee. In the pro-cess of disce~ment, choices should be consonant with a fundamental choice of the Light and with the person's value system. Though neithe~ ~a represeatative 6fthe-teaching Church as such nor a moral judge of oth- .ers -Consc~ence~ ~n the role of spiritual dire&or, nevertheless ihe-dir~' t~r dbe~ have a responsibility to assist in the ongoing evangelization of conscience by way of enabling individuals to find their own way.- The director also needs to pay attention to his or her own blocks, biases, and unfreedoms that can arise from conflicts between the director's value sys-tem and that of the directee. The director's moral code is not normative ,for the directee. ~ spiritual director acts best as moral guide by being a witness to ~,(trut~hd pers0ndleXample Of integrity~- In addition, the director can help form consciences by appropriate interventions, pat~'e nt wa~t~ng," " compas-sionate understanding, and by maintaining a non-judgmental attitude, -~hde at the same t~me offering honest challenge. The most helpful in-tervention is attentive listening. All spiritual growth, including the evangelization of conscience, happens incrementally. This calls for pa-tience and attentiveness to the readiness of the directee in a~iving at her or his own judgments. It should be noted that self-denigration is one of the most basic moral issues with which many in direction need to deal~ Real or supposed moral lapse especially can deepen it, and this calls for compassionate understanding. Yet, good people are prone to subtle ways of rationalizing and, at times, need honest challenge. It is one thing to experience ambiguity in moral issues; it is another to refuse to wrestle with it] It is comfo~ing to remember that when difficulties arise, the same Holy Spirit who illumines discerning hea~s is also leading persons to moral integrity~ What specifically can a spiritual guide do to enable the formation of conscience? At the fundamental level of conscience, it can be assumed that the person coming for direction has made a fundamental choice of God and the pursuit of good. It would be important in making discerned moral choices that persons continue to refer back to the deepest level of their God-experience. In reference to a major life-decision affecting a per-son's deepest commitments (for example, to enter or to leave marriage, priesthood, vowed life), a director might ask: Has the directee spent shf-ficient time in serious prayer? Made a careful examen of motives? Asked 650 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 others for feedback? It is at the reflection/assessment level of conscience that most guid-ance is sought. :S~6'~ " a "ec o be ~i~fulz ~ (1 ) In assessing moral maturity: What is the quality of the moral rea-soning process of the directee in reference to this choice? Does the per-son have a sufficiently informed conscience? Where are the blind spots? To what extent is the directee open to outside input? Is she or he making efforts to inform conscience by some reference to moral norms? (for ex-ample, Scripture, norms of his or her faith community?) Has the directee already made up his or her mind and now is unwilling to be "confused with the facts"? Does the directee rely on authority and law for some directives she or he likes, but on a subjective process of "discernment" for others she or he does not? Who will be affected and how by this moral choice? (2) In clarifying values: What values seem important to the directee (as they become visible in choices acted upon as well as spoken of!) and in what priority are they held? Does the person have sufficient clarity con-cerning these priorities? What values does the directee perceive in refer-ence to the specific moral issue with which she or he is now struggling? Is there any struggle? In "grey" areas is the directee willing to strug-gle? Has the director grappled with the same issue and know where she or he stands at present? Is the director clear about his or her own value system? What unfreedoms in the director might significantly hinder fa-cilitating the directee's discernment? (3) In establishing a prayerful mode: Is the directee bringing the is-sue to prayer/discernment: sufficiently in touch with her or his experi-ence of God? seeking inner freedom? gathering sufficient data? attentive to affective responses as options are explored and data gathered? In re-flecting on and in assessing options, does the directee feel any incongru-ence or resistance within towards one or the other option? In deciding on the action level of conscience: Does the directee trans-late moral judgments into deeds? Is she or he open to accountability? Will-ing to take responsibility for his or her actions? What are the conse-quences of the directee's moral decision for others? For self? ~Difficulties Facing Directors in Dealing with Conscience ,Since consciences differ as people do, it .is tO be expe~.cot_eod_~that diffi- ~'ulties can arise indealing with moral issues. These include: ~(1) Difference in moral conviction: When there is a difference of moral conviction on an issue with a directee (for example, divorce, Moral Issues / 651 greed, tax fraud, contraception, sexual activity, and so forth), what is the moral responsibility of the spiritual director? Although a guide in the process of moral choice rather than a teacher of morality, a spiritual di-rector must make a judgment as to whether she or he feels so strongly about an issue as to be unable to help the person deal with it. The direc-tor might pose the question: Will my own strong conviction constitute a major interference in the direction process? What would be appropri-ate to share with the directees at this time concerning my difference of conviction? (For example, a director might be absolutely unwilling to help a person "discern" an abortion.) ~(2) Inadequate social moral consciousness of the directee: What can a director do to help a person broaden the horizons of a conscience lack-ing in social consciousness or with little sense of social sin? On the one hand, the director needs to respect the value system of the directee and to respect readiness for change. On the other hand, the working alliance between the two should also have provided for appropriate challenge as a help to growth. If social consciousness seems to need broadening, a director might: (a) suggest readings to provoke thought; (b) be attentive to possible points of entry for discussion arising from life experience re-ported by a directee that can be occasions of broadening social aware-ness-- for example, a chance brush with a beggar or a personal experi-ence of discrimination; (c) suggest firsthand exposure to situations of so-cial concern--for example, volunteering time at a shelter for the home-less; (d) at times of periodic assessment (for which a good working alli-ance will also make provision), an honest and direct, yet gentle challenge may be in order. ~)(3) Distress after moral lapse: Without unduly mitigating a healthy sense of guilt that helps a person to recognize culpability and move to repentance, a compassionate director can help minimize the debilitating preoccupation that often accompanies guilt. If a person is overly dis-traught over a moral lapse, a director can help by getting the directee to contextualize it, that is, to see it in relationship to his other fundamental option and to the rest of his or her moral life. Does it reverse the funda-mental optioh? Erode it? Not substantially affect it? In addition to sin, where has grace been experienced? How might the experience of moral lapse and its aftermath (for example, a lessening of spiritual pride) been an occasion of grace? Conclusion In dealing with moral issues in spiritual direction, we have explored the meaning and relationship of moral and spiritual life and seen that the 652 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 two should not be divided. Moral life has as one of its concerns a key aspect of spiritual life--namely, decision-making and its relationship to character formation. Discernment is not an alternative to, but an enrich-ment of moral decision-making. Both Church as moral teacher and spiri-tual director as moral guide play significant, but different and limited roles in the formation of conscience--the final arbiter of moral judgment which, in turn, must always remain open to ongoing formation. Finally, we considered some ways for a spiritual director to deal with difficulties that arise in dealing with moral issues. Hvopefully, both Church and spiritual director will provide teachi~g~ find guidance that will enable folks, as-Mom says, "to use the heads God !~ga,~ethem to think for themselves!" That might give both the terms moral and spiritual life better press! You know, as I think of it, my mother was and continues to be my first (and probably my best!) profes-sor of moral and spiritual theology! Exercise Can you think of a situation in which your moral judgment differed from that of a directee? One in which the directee's was in conflict with Church teaching? What did you judge as your own moral responsibility towards the di-rectee? How did this affect your ability to discern as spiritual director? How did you try to discern what you should share with the directee? What aided your discernment? NOTES ~ See B. Haring, Free and Faithful in Christ, Vol. I (New York: Seabury, 1978), pp. 2-3. 2 Ibid, p. 253. 3 K. Rahner & H. Vorgrimler, Theological Dictionary (Herder & Herder, 1968), p. 95. 4 "Gaudium et spes," (n. 16) The Documents of Vatican II, W.M. Abbott, ed. (New York: Guild Press), p. 213. 5 R.P. Stake, "Grounding the 'Priest-Penitent Privilege' in American Law," Con-fidentiality in the United States (Washington, D.C.: CLSA, 1988), p. 151. 6 For example, see Tracing the Spirit, J.E. Hug, ed. (New York: Paul ist, 1983), pp. 379ff. Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? Timothy Brown, S.J. and Harriet A. Learson Father Timothy Brown, S.J., is assistant professor of law in the Sellinger School of Business and Management, Loyola College in Baltimore, Maryland. Harriet Lear-son, M.B.A., M.A., is a senior management consultant, Right Associates, in Phila-delphia, Pennsylvania, and is a practicing spiritual director. Correspondence may be addressed to Loyola College; 4501 North Charles Street; Baltimore, Maryland 21210- 2699. In today's service-oriented society, one can hardly avoid the media's al-most daily reports about the issue of malpractice. Doctors, lawyers, psy-chologists, psychiatrists, and human service professionals are becoming increasingly liable and vulnerable to public scrutiny regarding their prac-tices, philosophies, and ethics. In an editorial in the Jesuit publication Human Development Father James Gill, S.J., a Jesuit psychiatrist, raised the question of licensing spiritual directors. He comments: Haven't we reached a point in the Church's history when a group of well-trained and experienced spiritual directors can come together and deter-mine what type and amount of preparation would entitle a candidate to be licensed as a spiritual director? For the self-confidence of the direc-tors, no less than the well-being of their directees, a board of examiners and a certifying process comparable to those maintained by clinical psy-chologists, nurses, and physicians should be created. These profession-als have, in conscience, set high standards for their performance for the sake of their clients. We who are given access to the deepest recesses of souls should hardly be less conscientious. I There has been an outpouring of lawsuits against Churches and clergy as a result of alleged malpractice in recent years. The term that 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 has been coined is clergy malpractice which covers a wide variety of torts and crimes including child abuse, paternity suits, and intentional inflic-tion of emotional distress. The constitutional questions, under both state and federal Constitutions, oftentimes deny a cause of action because of the First Amendment issue of separation of Church and State. A number of cases have come to the attention of the media in the area of clergy mal-practice. One of the most noteworthy comes from California, Nally vs. Grace Community Church.2 In this case, parents whose son committed suicide brought an action against a church and church-related counselors, alleging negligent coun-seling and outrageous conduct which ultimately led to the death of their son.3 I. Constitutional Issues in Nally Vs. Grace Community Church Kenneth Nally committed suicide after having become part of a re-ligious organization that his parents alleged suggested to his son that, if you kill yourself, you will go to heaven. His parents brought suit against the Grace Community Church of the Valley, a fundamentalist sect, lo-cated in Southern California. The parents sued the church and four pas-tors for malpractice, negligence, and outrageous conduct. They con-tended that the church's evangelical fundamentalist teachings "in-culcated in their son the belief that he had betrayed Christ's love and trust, and otherwise exacerbated Ken's preexisting feelings of guilt, anxi-ety, and deep depression with the knowledge that these acts would in~ crease the tendencies of Ken to attempt to take his own life."4 The church countered that the young man had been examined by five physi-cians and a psychiatrist after an earlier suicide attempt and that the coun-selors had arranged or encouraged many of these visits. A trial judge dis-missed the case after the close of the plaintiff's case, 5 and the case was appealed. The appellate court reversed the trial court's nonsuit of the negli-gence and outrageous conduct allegations against the Grace Community Church and several of its pastoral counselors. They held that the Church's counselors negligently failed to refer this suicidal youth to those authorized and best suited to prevent his death.6 Associate Justice Johnson writing for the majority began the opinion by clearing up the confusion regarding the issue of clergy malpractice: The court., does not view the causes of action discussed in our opin-ion to involve 'clergy malpractice.' Instead, we see them more accu-rately characterized as 'negligent failure to prevent suicide,' and 'inten- Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? tional or reckless infliction of emotional injury causing suicide'- which negligence and intentional or reckless acts happens to have been committed by church-affiliated counselors. In our view this case has lit-tle or nothing to say about the liability of clergymen for the negligent performance of their ordinary ministerial duties or even their counsel-ing duties except when they enter into a counseling relationship with sui-cidal individuals.7 The church appealed the ruling by the California Court of Appeals for the Second District. After eight years of litigation after the suicide of Kenneth Nally, the Supreme Court of California in a 5-2 opinion held that the "legal duty of care" imposed by the State on licensed praction-ers did not apply to the clergy.8 Chief Justice Lucas writes: "Neither the legislature nor the courts have ever imposed a legal ob-ligation on persons to take affirmative steps to prevent the suicide of one who is not under the care of a physician in a hospital. Imposing such a duty on nontherapist counselors could have a deleterious effect on coun-seling in general and deter those most in need of help from seeking treat-ment out of fear that the private disclosures could subject them to invol-untary commitment to psychiatric facilities."9 The California court notes the California legislature's recognition that "access to the clergy for coun-seling should be free from state imposed counseling standards." to Two other Justices agreed that the case should be dismissed but said the defendants did have a legal duty of care but that the evidence showed the pastors never breached it or contributed to the man's death. The Court unanimously dismissed the case. II. Spiritual DirectionmA Definition Whether spiritual directors should be licensed to prevent the kind of tragedy described in the Nally case is a question that is presently being debated by many in the field. Spiritual direction has a very broad con-notation. It can be defined as an interpersonal situation in which one per-son assists another person to growth in the spirit, in the life of faith (prayer), hope (difficulties), sufferings (trials), and love (the person's life in the Christian community). 1~ Spiritual direction may better be defined by what it is not, rather than by what it is. Spiritual direction is not pri-marily information even though it may be the occasion for sharing ideas. It is not primarily therapeutic even though there are times when issues of mental and psychological need get discussed. It is not seen as primar-ily advisory although in many situations good advice is imparted. Spiri-tual direction is viewed as primarily the opportunity to get clarification and discernment. How this gets accomplished is by discussing the prayer 656 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 life and spiritual life of the directee so as to shed some light on what is happening in the life of faith, hope, and love in relation to God. In spiritual direction, the directee tries to describe to a spiritual di-rector his or her prayer experiences. The subject matter of that discus-sion constitutes such areas as when prayer happens, how often, how, what actually happens in the prayer period, other daily life issues such as anxiety over family, job, day-to-day depressions, joys, consolations and desolations, issues of tolerance, patience, and possible manipulation of others. The director's role is to help the person to objectify those per-sonal experiences, to assist by asking appropriate questions in order to gain some clarity on the directee's personal issues. The spiritual direc-tor is interested in helping the directee in the life of prayer so that the relationship with God and the men and women with whom they live and work can become strengthened and enhanced. III. Basic Skills Required of a Spiritual Director At the Jesuit Spiritual Center in Wernersville, Pennsylvania a com-petency profile was developed in an effort at concretizing and articulat-ing the requisite personal qualities, knowledge, skills, and graces to do spiritual direction. Here are some of the standards that were established in that study: 1. Personal Characteristics/Qualities A. Living a vital spiritual life B. Being a recipient oneself of spiritual direction C. Docility to the Spirit D. Kindness E. Gentleness F. Psychological Maturity G. Initiative H. Having a broadly lived human experience J. Stability K. Respect for confidentiality L. Sociability M. Detachment N. Productivity 2. Knowledge A. Lived experience in the Christian tradition B. Christian Doctrine/tradition C. Sacred Scripture D. Christian mystical/ascetical traditions E. The Spiritual Exercises Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? / 657 F. Ecclesiology G. Grace H. Christology J. Vatican II K. Justice L. A psychological matrix (theory & language) M. Jungian Psychology 3. Skills/Abilities A. Intrapersonal (affective awareness) B. Discernment C. Listening D. Clarifying E. Diagnosing F. Prescribing G. Judgment H. Common sense J. Interpersonal Skills K. One-on-one L. Group M. Trustworthiness 4. Graces A. Spiritual freedom B. An ongoing call to this work by others C. Called by grace to this work D. Seeing the Gospel happening~2 IV. Ministerial Malpractice Malpractice refers to professional misconduct or the failure of one rendering services in the practice of a profession to exercise the degree of skill and learning normally applied by members of that profession in similar circumstances.~3 The traditional elements necessary to state a cause of action in negligence have beenstated by Prosser as: 1) a duty, or obligation, recognized by the law, requir-ing the actor to conform to a certain standard of conduct for the protection of others against unreasonable risks; 2) a failure on his part to conform to the standard re-quired; 3) a reasonably close causal connection between the con-duct and the resulting injury; and 4) actual loss or damages resulting to the interests of an-other. 14 Review for Religious, September-October 1990 The problem that the courts would face in trying to construe a duty, and then defining that duty in the area of spiritual direction, is in attempt-ing to define what falls within the parameters of the spiritual as opposed to psychological counseling. How would a court make some kind of de-termination as to whether a directee's problem is, in fact, a spiritual or psychological one. The reason that distinction is so necessary is to safe-guard and protect members of the clergy involved in spiritual direction. Father John English, S.J. has written that the distinction between spiri: tual and psychological counseling is oftentimes a fine one. He comments that "although it may be helpful for the director to distinguish between psychological and spiritual counseling, these realities are not distinct within the person being counseled. And the concern is always with the total person." ~5 There are occasions when a director can see that the real need in direction is no longer to facilitate growth in relationship with God but instead to move the person into a psychological counseling setting so that other issues in the directee's life can better be addressed. What are some of the occasions when someone should be referred to therapy? One spiritual director, Mercy Sister Maureen Conroy, R.S.M. regards three situations as clearly signals to refer. They are: 1) when a person experiences serious psychological and emotional disorders, including depression, severe neuro-sis, suicidal tendencies, psychosis; 2) when more time needs to be spent exploring a present life issue, such as a marital problem; and 3) when specific therapeutic skills are needed to explore the conscious and unconscious effects of past life expe-riences, such as sexual abuse or emotional neglect in child-hood. 16 The Supreme Court of California in the Nally case addressed the is-sue of referral of seriously ill directees. Regarding the duty as to "whether the court should impose a duty on defendant and other 'nonth-erapist counselors' (that is, persons other than licensed psychotherapists who counsel others concerning their emotional and spiritual problems) to refer to licensed mental health professionals once suicide becomes a foreseeable risk," the court said no.~7 In determining the existence of a duty of care in any given case, a number of factors were considered, including: "the foreseeability of harm to the injured party, the degree of certainty that he suffered injury, the closeness of the connection be-tween defendants' conduct and the injury suffered, the moral blame at-tached to (defendants), the policy of preventing future harm, the extent Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? / 659 of the burden to the defendants and consequences to the community of imposing a duty to exercise care with resulting liability for breach, and the availability, cost, and prevalence of insurance for the risk in-volved. ' ' 18 The court cautiously noted the inappropriateness of imposing a duty to refer in areas involving spiritual counseling because of the very na-ture of the relationship. So many times those relationships are informal, spur of the moment, and gratuitous. The foreseeability of harm may not always be recognized in a one hour session with a disturbed directee. The court concluded by saying that "imposing a duty on defendants or other nontherapist counselors to. insure their counselees [are also] under the care of psychotherapists, psychiatric facilities, or others authorized and equipped to forestall imminent suicide could have a deleterious ef-fect on counseling in general." 19 The California legislature has exempted the clergy from any kind of licensing requirement applicable to "mar-riage, family, child and domestic counselors, and from the operation of statutes regulating psychologists.' ,20 The court took note that the reason why the legislature has exempted clergy from licensing is in order to ex-plicitly "recognize that access to the clergy for counseling should be free from state imposed counseling standards, and that the secular state is not equipped to ascertain the competence of counseling when performed by those affiliated with religious organizations.''2~ V. The Difficulty of Devising Workable Standards For Determining Negligence Along with the difficulty the court recognized with arriving at some kind of workable standard of competency to be established in religious counseling situations, the Nally court also noted the added problem of identifying to whom the duty of duc care should be applied. It would be an immense task to define what exactly constitutes a spiritual direction relationship. Who qualifies as aspiritual director (only the ordained? mem-bers of religious orders?) as well as trying to resolve the issue of relig-ious diversity demonstrates difficulty in determining in what context the interaction is framed. There are all kinds of First Amendment issues in-volved as well. The court expressed the dilemma writing: "Because of the differing theological views espoused by the myriad of religions in our state, and practiced by Church members, it would certainly be impracti-cal and quite possibly unconstitutional to impose a duty of care on pas-toral counselors. Such a duty would necessarily be intertwined with the religious philosophy of the particular denomination or ecclesiastical teach-ings of the religious entity.' ,22 66{I / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 Establishing some kind of criteria of competency that a court could apply would always involve a state intrusion into the realm of religious doctrine and practice. The state would be put in the position of asking whether a particular religious practice was indeed being employed, a par-ticular teachin~g applied correctly, a particular style of spirituality or dis-cernment used properly. All these determinations entail a great deal of state entanglement in sectarian matters. In 1971 the Supreme Court in Lemon vs. Kurtzman,23 adopted a three prong test to decide whether a government activity violates the Estab-lishment Clause of the First Amendment. The test requires that: 1) The purpose of the action be clearly secular; 2) The primary effect of the action must neither advance nor inhibit religion; and 3) the activity may not result in excessive government en-tanglement with the religion.2a Any kind of judicial enforcement of some kind of standard of com-petency for spiritual directors would fail the Lemon vs. Kurtzman test on all three points. The effect of the government overseeing the practices of spiritual directors would more than likely inhibit some of the freedom required to explore, discern, and clarify issues in spiritual direction. The potential for excessive church-state entanglement in the area of enforce-ment of guidelines for direction is limitless. Any standard of care applied in determining qualified licensed prac-tioners in the field of spiritual direction would involve some sort of check as to whether the practice was in step with the religious criteria set forth in the religious teachings of the sect. At best it could be argued that some minimum standard of.training and competence to protect the public from religious fanatics, charlatans, or frauds might be established, but any full-fledged licensing would stifle First Amendment freedom and inhibit re-ligious practice. VI. Difficulties in Establishing a Standard of Care for Spiritual Di-rectors Looking at the Competency Profile of the Jesuit Spiritual Center, one wonders how a court would be able to determine what constitutes com-petency when the spiritual qualification requirements of directors include such characteristics as: 1) Living a vital spiritual life--a life of charity; 2) Habitual experience of individual prayer; 3) A life of Charity .toward all peop!e coupled with an awareness of the w~der needs of the human family; Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? / 661 4) An evermore intense interior experience; 5) An ever-growing delicacy of conscience; 6) Kindness--having and showing a benevolent readi-ness to intend the good of others; 7) Giftedness--honoring another's perceptions, judg-ments, and person; a non-defensiveness of spirit, pa-tience, and sympathy; 8) Psychological maturity--free from crippling emo-tional, mental, or volitional habits of a neurotic nature; 9) Sociability--the ability to interact with a variety of per-sonalities; 10) Knowledge--lived experience in the Christian tradi-tion; 1 1) Skills and abilities--interpersonal awareness of one's interior mental and emotional states; 12) Discernment--the experiential knowledge of self in the congruence of the object of choice with one's funda-mental religious orientation; 13) Judgment--the ability to form wise opinions, esti-mates, and conclusions from circumstances presented to the director; 14) Graces-spiritual freedom --without undue influence of disordered affections and attachments; 15) An inner suppleness of character.25 Looking over this list of characteristics needed to be a competent spiri-tual director one could see the difficulty that a court of law would have in trying to render a determination of standards which would meet licens-ing requirements. Courts are not in any position to evaluate the content of the prescribed qualifications. Aside from the obvious First Amend-ment problems found in making judgments on what grace, kindness, char-ity, and other criteria operative within the practice of spiritual direction are, licensing could discourage and diminish the gifts of both the direc-tor and directee. It is the view of the authors that licensing, evolving in the current secula¢ context, goes against the very grain of what spiritual direction is all about and could do a real disservice to those who enter into a direction relationship fearing lawsuits. It could also have a chill-ing effect on directees as well. There is something unique, healing, and very human about spiritual direction as a growth process if we view it as art, science, and discipline. 662 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 VII. Some Final Observations In reviewing the current legal opinions regarding malpractice in the area of spiritual and pastoral counseling, the authors present several ob-servations. --Licensing spiritual directors is clearly a prophetic question as pro-posed by Gill and is coming increasingly into its own time. The issues surrounding licensing are complex, profound in their implications, dis-turbing, and hopeful as we look at the work of defining the criteria for training, developing, and evaluating competent directors. --Defining what competencies are needed in a spiritual director in different schools of spirituality, religious groups and sects, and what con-tent needs to be included in their training programs producing such pro-fessionals is a challenge that is only beginning to be publicly addressed, discussed, or attempted. --In light of the current legal findings and opinions, spiritual direc-tors need to demand and seek training that is concerned with addressing issues of competency as defined by the required knowledges, skills/ abilities, and personal characteristics/qualities reflecting their spiritual tra-dition towards achieving competency in the training of spiritual direc-tors. --First steps would be for practitioners in the field to come together in a spirit of open inquiry, genuine unselfish concern, and humble aware-ness of the enormity of the task to be accomplished. Developing semi-nars and forming associations or professional forums could provide prac-titioners the milieu to discuss, study, and outline priorities and action steps towards the establishment of professional criteria and guidelines for training, developing, and evaluating spiritual directors. NOTES Gill, "License Spiritual Directors?" 6 Human Development 2 (Summer, 1985). Nally vs. Grace Community Church, 204 Cal. Rptr. 303 (Cal. App. 3 Dist. 1984). Ibid, at p. 303. 4 Ibid, at p. 303. 5 Ibid, at p. 303. Nally vs. Grace Community Church, 253 Cal. Rptr. 97, 1988. lbid, at p. 219. 8 lbid, at p. 105. 9 Ibid, at p. 105. ¯~o Ibid, at p. 105. Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth, Competency Profile. ~2 Restatement (Second) of Torts 299A (1977). t3 Ibid. ~4 W. Prosser, Law of Torts (1966). 15 j. English, Spiritual Freedom (1975). 16 M. Conroy, Growth in Love and Freedom (1987). 17 Nally vs. Grace Community Church, 253 Cal. Rptr. 97 at p. 106. Should Spiritual Directors Be Licensed? / 663 18 Ibid, at p. 106. 19 Ibid, at p. 103. 20 Ibid, at p. 108. 21 Ibid, at p. 108. 22 Ibid, at p. 109. 23 Lemon vs. Kurtzman, 403 U.S. 602. 24Ibid, at p. 60. 25Jesuit Center for Spiritual Growth, Competency. The Risk You take a risk when you invite the Lord Whether to dine or talk the afternoon Away, for always the unexpected soon Turns up: a woman breaks her precious nard, A sinner does the task you should assume, A leper who is cleansed must show his proof: Suddenly you see a hole in your roof And a cripple clutters up your living room. There's no telling what to expect when He Walks in your door. The table set for tea Must often be enlarged and decorum Thrown to the wind. It's His voice that calls them And it's no use to bolt and bar the door: His kingdom knows no bounds-~of roof, or wall, or floor. Marcella M. Holloway, C.S.J. 6321 Clemens Avenue St. Louis, Missouri 63130 Prayer as Desire: An American ViewI Richard E. Lamoureux, a.a. Father Richard E. Lamoureux, a.a., has been provincial for the Augustinians of the Assumption. His address is Assumptionist Center; 330 Market Street; Brighton, Mas-sachusetts 02135. The contemporary American artist Andrew Wyeth teaches us a good deal about prayer. Many of his paintings, depicting everyday objects--a bowl of fruit, a cookie jar, a cooling blueberry pie--invite a quiet, simple gaze. But it is not just Wyeth's spare, silent scenes that lead us in the direction of prayer. So many of his portraits are unconventional inas-much as they present the subject turning away from the viewer, appar-ently looking for something in the distance. Forrest Wall, shown in the Man from Maine (1951), turns his back to us and peers out a window partially visible on the right. Elizabeth James, in Chambered Nautilus (1956), does the same from her sick bed. What may be Wyeth's most famous painting depicts Christina Olsen (Christina's WorM, 1948) sit-ting in the field below her home, straining with all her might in the di-rection of the house as if she might return there on the strength of her desire despite the palsied legs that restrict her to the ground. Two of his most beautiful paintings are portraits of Jimmy Lynch. One (The Swinger, 1969) shows him on a porch swing looking off into the dis-tance; the other (Afternoon Flight, 1970) catches him similarly absorbed. What is it on the horizon that draws his gaze?2 This most American artist explores a dimension of our existence that I would consider to be a central ingredient in prayer. In what follows, I want to explain how longing or desire is at the heart of prayer and how desire has fared in our recent American experience. Finally, I will sug-gest a way to address the particular challenge that faces us as American 664 Prayer as Desire / 665 women and men of prayer. No one has explained better than Saint Augustine how desire is re-lated to prayer. Sometime at the beginning of the fifth century, Augustine received a letter from Proba, a Roman woman whose husband had just died.3 Her purpose in writing was to ask a simple question: can you tell me something about prayer that would be helpful? In his response, Augustine writes unexpectedly at great length about widowhood and then tries to explain how it relates to prayer. For example, he says to Proba: What characteristic of widows is singled out if not their poverty and deso-lation? Therefore, insofar as every soul understands that it is poor and desolate in this world, as long as it is absent from the Lord, it surely commends its widowhood, so to speak, to God its defender, with con-tinual and most earnest prayer (p. 400). Augustine very simply reminds Proba that her widowhood, that is, her experience of loss and especially her desire for presence once again, is a precious opportunity to learn about prayer. If you would want to pray, Augustine seems to be saying, begin with the experience of desire or longing. Augustine, then, defines prayer primarily as desire. Words and pi-ous activities, which we normally think of as prayer, are useful only to the extent that they intensify our desire for God. They are necessary, he writes, so that we may be roused and may take note of what we are asking, but we are not to believe that the Lord has need of them . Therefore, when we say "Hallowed be thy name," we rouse ourselves to desire that his name, which is always holy, should be held holy among men and women also . . . (p. 391). Desire then is synonymous with prayer. In relating the two in that way, Augustine teaches us three very important lessons about prayer. First, prayer is really very simple. It is as natural for human beings as desire is. And desire, as we all know, is a universal human experience. It is as natural for a person to pray as it is for a person to desire. And a person who desires is a person who can pray. Second, by defining prayer in terms of desire rather than in terms of methods or formulas or actions, Augustine more clearly situates it as a function of the human heart. There is little that is more personal to us or that we are more hesitant to divulge than our desires. And Augustine would have us understand that it is precisely in that most intimate and personal place that prayer is born and grows. 666 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 Finally, by relating prayer to desire, Augustine helps us to under-stand that we can grow in prayer, for taking our desires seriously is a stimulus to such growth. He develops this idea in his letter to Proba and most especially in the Confessions. To Proba he writes: God wishes our desire to be exercised in prayer that we may be able to receive what he is preparing to give (1 Co 2:9) . Therefore, it is said to us: "Be enlarged, bear not the yoke with unbelievers" (2Co 6:13, 14), (p. 389). Desire helps to enlarge the heart. Augustine would claim that by fan-ning the flame of desire, we will become more able to recognize God's gift when it is offered and to appreciate it to the extent that it deserves. In the Confessions Augustine explains even more clearly how tak-ing our desires seriously is a stimulus to growth in prayer and can lead to deeper faith and intimacy with God. These desires are a complex re-ality ["Who can unravel that complex twistedness?" (II, 10)4] But rather than shy away from the complexity, Augustine sets out on a long journey precisely to get to the bottom of those desires. He goes all the way back to his earliest desire for the milk from his mother's breast, then recalls the games of his youth, and also the longing for wisdom when he read Cicero. With anguish, he remembers the burning desires that char-acterized his early relations and the resistance he put up to other desires lurking in his heart. "My soul turned and turned again, on back and sides and belly, and the bed was always hard" (VI,16). Augustine's long journey through the labyrinth of his soul was marked by a painful experience of desires at war with each other, but even more so by a confidence that the battle waged in all honesty and with his friends would lead to a liberation of his deepest desire, one that he came to understand could only be satisfied by God. "Behold thou art close at hand to deliver us from the wretchedness, of error and estab-lish us in thy way, and console us with thy word: 'Run, I shall bear you up and bring you and carry you to the end' " (VI, 16). Augustine took all of his desires seriously, even those that troubled him and brought him to tears, because he believed that all of them were in some way, at times in some distorted ways, a path to the deepest craving of the human heart. He seemed sure of God's love and also confident that deep within his own heart was an enormous love for God: "Thou hast made us for thy-self." (Confessions I, 1). Those are convictions we all find hard to come by, but they are crucial for growth along the way of prayer. To summarize then and to make the point clearly: for Augustine prayer is not more complicated than giving free rein and full expression Prayer as Desire / 66"/ to the sometimes confused desire for God that God has placed in our hearts. As he writes in his commentary' on the first letter of St. John: "Love and do what you will." Or perhaps I can say: "Desire and do what you will." Now, that may sound simple, but there are a few complicating fac-tors, some of which Augustine was aware of. Many of the complicating factors, however, are particular to our own time and culture; they are the shadow side of the cultural qualities we cultivate in the United States. One of the recent most popular movies, Dead Poets Society, is a se-rious indictment of American culture. It tells the story of a private pre-paratory school in the United States in 1959, where faculty and student body alike hold in highest esteem the pursuit of successful careers and high social status. Along comes an eccentric poetry teacher, effectively portrayed by Robin Williams. He succeeds in opening a few sleepy, even blind eyes, urges his students to ("carpe diem") "seize the moment," and awakens them to the excitement of poetry. Dull, distracted boys be-come spirited young men full of powerful desires. They found their own secret society where dead poets--and dead students-~come back to life. The movie was successful, I suppose, because it touched a sensitive chord in our American hearts. Though we are reluctant to admit this, the movie helped us see that we might be dull people, men and women with-out longing, without desire. But you might object: "Doesn't every human being desire some-thing?" As I reflected on the movie, I came to understand that for a va-riety of reasons and in different ways desire has been drained from our hearts. I could see it happening in four or five different ways. At other times and in other contexts, I might present the following items in a much more positive vein, as qualities that are proper to us as Americans. But in the context of this discussion on desire, what might be consid-ered the merits of our particular American way of living and looking at things becomes a liability. 1) In our day, in this country, by hard work, ingenuity, abundant natu-ral resources and a little bit of luck, we have attained a level of material satisfaction that enables us to meet most of our needs. We acknowledge that there are unsatisfied needs in us, but we are also confident that the only kinds of needs we have are needs that we can eventually satisfy our-selves. And if it takes too long to satisfy them, we energetically look for and usually find other remedies; there are many "quick fixes" we can turn to. But then if all the needs are satisfied, what is there left to de-sire? I am not simply condemning American materialism, nor am I re- Review for Religious, September-October 1990 ferring here to the unrestrained pursuit of pleasure and sensual satisfac-tion. Instead, I am suggesting 'that the level of material security we en-joy may be having a subtle, debilitating effect on our capacity to long for less material goods. When the Israelites complained to Jeremiah that it would be preferable to return to Egypt rather than remain in exile, he urged them to stay where they were for Yahweh was with them. Instead, however, they returned to Egypt "where at least they would not hun-ger" (Jr 42:1~4). It is not pleasant to be hungry, but can we live without desire? We can call this sort of person "the comfortable self," and the "comfortable sell'' has few desires. 2) Today especially we seek to be creative and responsible members of the human race. We are inclined to set aside as somewhat irrelevant and escapist distractions those vague interior Iongings that apparently can never be satisfied: there is too much in the world to do and no time to lose. We tend to set aside the simple and less gifted i~mong us and have little patience for wasted time and effort. In Bonfire of the Vanities, Tom Wolfe would say that our ambition is to be a "Master of the Universe," and we are convinced we just might succeed. The "creative, functional sell''has little time or. need for vague longings and can realize his desires by rolling up his sleeves. 3) Psychology has helped us uncover, identify, and explain many of our desires. But Freud would also have us demystify these desires, re-duce them to understandable drives, and either "manage" them so they do not interfere or banish them completely. The "psychological sell" runs the risk of reducing desires to insignificance by denying them the possibility of any transcendent origin, significance, or purpose. 4) Dead Poets Society points an accusing finger at a society drained of desire and life. But I think the movie suffers from the sickness it is trying to identify. Note the poets that are quoted in the movie: they are almost exclusively what we call the romantic poets. Other sections of the poetry anthology used by the students are ripped out. No mention of Shakespeare or Homer, Milton or Hopkins. Why should we read poetry, according to this movie? For the excitement of it, I gather. The movie seems to say: it does not really matter what you give your life to as long as you feel passionately enough to give your life. I admire the passion, but it is a self-destructive passion, self-preoccupied, narcissistic. Really, in the end, no passion at all. The desires of the "romantic sell'' self-destruct in a beautiful, but tragically brief burst of flame. 5) Finally, a word about the "tolerant sell'' and what that, in its most recent form, has done to desire. In many ways I consider this to Prayer as Desire / 669 be the most serious attack on desire in our day, and I will discuss it at greater length.5 The founders of our country, acutely aware of the reasons for which Europeans came to these shores and the political struggle that led to in-dependence, enshrined the principles of freedom and equality at the heart of our Constitution. They did so in revolt against oppression in the coun-tries they came from, to assure that in this new regime each person would be free to profess and practice the religion of one's choosing or none at all. In order to assure that no one religion would be given ascendancy and that all religions would be considered equally valid. Such liberty and equality imply a prior commitment to tolerance. As Locke had earlier suggested,6 not only does tolerance forestall religious wars and oppression, it would seem to be synonymous with Christian char-ity. We should hesitate to tamper with a doctrine such as that of toler-ance, which has brought us many blessings, but there may be some side effects that need to be taken into account. If tolerance leads us to assert that all religions are equally valid, then it seems inevitable that at some point one will begin to wonder whether it is worth embracing this par-ticular religion rather than another., or any at all. Tolerance as the paradigmatic American virtue in religious matters erodes conviction and desire; it all too often leads to indifference and loss of confidence.7 Let me explain with a non-religious example. For one person, work-ing hard to provide housing for the homeless is an important "value"-- to use that word as we are accustomed to using it today. For another per-son, earning a million dollars a year and dining at a 4-star restaurant five nights a week is a "value" she or he would hold to with as much, per-haps even more vigor. In a society where tolerance is the paramount vir-tue and where there can be no criteria for ranking so-called "values," our social worker has no right to consider his "value" more important than that of the millionaire. I think that is the conclusion we have to draw, and my guess is that our "tolerant" selves would be reluctant to draw any other. In that case, I could easily imagine the social worker, returning home after a frustrating fifteen-hour day, and exclaiming in quiet desperation: "why bother?" If all "values" are equal, our social worker will begin to doubt the real worth of what she or he is doing and be drained of passion or desire for the cause being promoted. Tolerance is a great American virtue. It protects us from oppression and even allows us to be critical of the regime. But the brand of toler-ance practiced today also exacts a high price. It can drain our soul of all 670 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 passion. Without passion or desire, the "tolerant self' will find it very difficult to pray. The comfortable self, the creative self, the psychological self, the ro-mantic self, the tolerant self--so many ways in which desire has been disarmed. It has been disarmed or short-circuited. What keeps desire alive has been eliminated. Etymologically, the word "desire" with its reference to "sidera," the stars, suggests that without an object that tran-scends the self, desire that is not created by the self, or under its con-trol, or in any way dependent upon the self, desire quickly evaporates. I think the social and political consequences of diluted or disarmed de-sire have been considerable, but in the context of this discussion I want to draw attention to the consequences for our faith and our prayer as well. So, how do we recover desire? The question is an old one. It already appears in the Gospel. But, as I have tried to explain above, our American context leads us to pose it in a particularly acute way. It should not come as a surprise that since we Americans are closest to the problem that it is we Americans who have also hit upon a solution. I think that Alcoholics Anonymous and its 12-step program, begun in this country some fifty years ago, may be helping us rediscover desire and could be more helpful to those wanting to pray than any crash course on meditation.8 This may come as a surprising suggestion. But consider some of the more traditional methods used to foster growth in prayer. Among the early desert fathers and mothers, one popular and effective method (known in the Russian Orthodox tradition today as "starchestvo") is a practice whereby the novice reveals to his spiritual master all of his in-terior thoughts and feelings and humbly seeks help in discerning what God calls him to through these apparently confused experiences.9 Augustine himself sought to grow in prayer by telling story after story of how he pursued one way then another in search of happiness and peace. Ignatius of Loyola in the sixteenth century devised a system of spiritual exercises, whereby the one seeking to grow spiritually reveals the promptings of his heart to a spiritual guide who helps him interpret and discern the desires that will lead to growth. Ignatius even urged that his followers, members of his Society, regularly "manifest their con-science" to their superiors, much like the monks in the desert, in order to gain enlightenment. Those are the traditional methods of spiritual growth, but for some reason today for many they are not working, or we are not inclined to take them seriously. But many are taking the 12 steps seriously. One of Prayer as Desire / 671 the insights on which the 12-step method is based is the importance of recounting, at a meeting or to a sponsor, the story of one's desires-- desires for alcohol, for sex, for food, desires that have run out of con-trol, but also a desire, perhaps only a small spark at the outset, but a de-sire for sobriety. It is in the telling and the retelling of the story that the desires are sorted out, that the healthiest sparks are fanned into stronger flames, and that one begins to come to deeper serenity and happiness. Why does the 12-step program work? Because I begin to name desires rather than blindly accede to them, proudly condemn them, or run from them in fear. Because I acknowl-edge that a power greater than I alone guides human affairs, inspires hu-man desires, and fulfills the deepest among these: the desires I can sat-isfy will not bring peace to a restless heart. Because I acknowledge that in addition to that power other people are necessary to test my desires and help me keep the best alive. Because I know that helping others will intensify my own desire at the same time as it helps another. I cannot explain adequately in this context the effectiveness of the 12-step program. I am grateful to those friends and confreres who have given me some understanding of the 12 steps and for their own witness to the program's power. They could better make the point I want to make. Beneath the program is an understanding of life deeply consonant with the Gospel and, I would maintain, profoundly nourishing for one's life of prayer. Remember Augustine's words to Proba: Insofar as every soul understands that it is poor and desolate in this world as long as it is absent from the Lord, it surely commends its wid-owhood, so to speak, to God its defender, with continual and most ear-nest prayer (p. 400). Prayer is impossible if you start from a distorted understanding of the Gospel. As Americans, our comfortable self may be too sated to seek a Savior, our creative self may lead us to think we can save ourselves, our psychological self may convince us that the desire for a Savior is escapism, our romantic self may consider the desire an end in itself, our tolerant self may think open-ness and tolerance are identical with love. The Gospel, the writings of Augustine, and the 12-step program re-flect both more skepticism and more confidence about human nature than any of these false selves. They are not so afraid or angry with their hu-manness that they deny or disregard their desires, but they do not accept 672 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 that responding to the most pressing desires will necessarily lead to the greatest happiness. They are deeply confident that their deepest desires can be satisfied, but have surrendered the illusion that they can or must explain or satisfy those desires on their own. They, like St. Paul, refuse to judge and condemn themselves, and certainly not others, but they cou-rageously and unambiguously name the desire that has led them to dis-aster and they can say: "My name is Richard or John or Dorothy, and I am an alcoholic!" Many are seeking new ways to pray, and a 12-step meeting is hardly an ancient method. But if I were to suggest the practices of sacramental confession or spiritual direction as ways to grow in prayer, many would not take note. Something has happened to our traditional practices or our use of them that has made them seemingly ineffective. What I am sug-gesting is that the 12-step program with its emphasis on confession/ story telling, community, and commitment to service--is a contempo-rary method that I feel convinced can teach us how to pray. I cannot help but believe that God is attentive to the simple prayer of a recovering al-coholic, a wounded person full of desire, who speaks with the words of the psalmist: God, you are my God, for you I long. For you my soul is thirsting. My body pines for you like a dry, weary land without water. So I gaze on you in the sanctuary to see your strength and your glory, for your love is better than life. My lips will speak your praise, so I will bless you all my life. NOTES ~ A first version of this paper was presented as the keynote address for a Conference at Assumption College, Worcester, Massachusetts, entitled "Prayer--A Psychologi-cal Perspective." I am grateful to the organizers of the Conference, Dr. George Scar-lett and Rev. Edgar Bourque, A.A., for their invitation to address the Conference. 2 These paintings are reproduced in Davis McCord and Frederick A. Sweet, Andrew Wyeth (Boston: Museum of Fine Arts, 1970). 3 Quotations from Augustine's letter are taken from The Fathers of the Church-- Saint Augustine: Letters Vol. II (New York: Fathers of the Church, Inc. 1953). 4 Quotations from the Confessions are taken from the translation by Frank J. Sheed in The Confessions of St. Augustine (London: Sheed & Ward, 1984, original edition 1944). 5 Although many have discussed this notion, the most thorough and cogent discus-sion recently is in the book by Allen Bloom, The Closing of the American Mind (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1987). 6 See John Locke, A Letter Concerning Toleration, ed, by James H. Tully (Indian- Prayer as Desire / 1573 apolis: Hackett Publishing Co., 1983). 7 In J. Hector St. John Crevecoeur, Letters from an American Farmer, (New York: Fox, Duffiealad and Company, 1904, reprinted from the original 1782 edition), pp. 64-65, we read an eighteenth-century account of religion in America. After describ-ing in letter no. 3 the variety of creeds cultivated in the country, the author contin-ues: "Each of these people instruct their children as well as they can, but these in-structions are feeble compared to those which are given to the youth of the poorest class in Europe. Their children will therefore grow up less zealous and more indif-ferent in matters of religion than their parents. The foolish vanity, or rather the fury of making Proselytes, is unknown here; they have no time, the seasons call for all their attention, and thus in a few years, this mixed neighborhood will exhibit a strange religious medley, that will be neither pure Catholicism nor pure Calvinism. A very perceptible indifference even in the first generation will become apparent." 8 A good deal of Alcoholics Anonymous literature deals with prayer and spiritual-ity. The eleventh step explicitly encourages the practice of prayer and meditation ("We sought through prayer and meditation to improve our conscious contact with God as we understood him, praying only for knowledge of God's will for us, and the power to carry that out.") But the program can have even broader implications for the spiritual life. See "Origins of A.A. Spirituality" by Dr. Ernie Kurtz, The Blue Book, Vol. XXXVIII, Proceedings from the 38th Annual Symposium-June 16- 20, 1986 (January, 1987). Catholic writers and lecturers are beginning to discuss the spiritual potential of the program. See, for example, the recently released confer-ences of Father Richard Rohr, "Breathing under Water: Spirituality and the 12 Steps" (Saint Anthony Messenger Press Audiocassettes, 1989). 9 See B, Pennington, O.C.S.O., O Holy Mountain.t (Wilmington: Michael Glazier, 1984), p. 92. The Emptiness Within Barbara Dent Barbara Dent, mother and grandmother, has been for eighteen years a Secular Carmelite. One of her most recent books has been The Gifts of Lay Ministry (Ave Maria Press, 1989). Her address is Postinia: 7A Cromwell Place; Pukekohe, New Zealand. Ours is an age of space-consciousness and space exploration. These have induced an awareness of a limitless beyond that can be terrifying. We know that in space universe extends beyond universe in an infinitude of expanding galaxies. The immensity is beyond our comprehension. Ours is also an age of inner exploration of our own human psyche. Depth psychology probes level on level of inner awareness, submerged awareness, and non-awareness. These probings link up with that aspect of spirituality which mystically intuits the indwelling of the Trinity, the homeliness of God in us that Jesus spoke of and promised to his faithful followers the night before he died. Just as there is endless mystery in the outer universe, so there is also in the inner one. God dwells in us--if we long for him and prepare our spiritual house to receive him. Not only that, but he permeates our inner being further and further as we open ourselves to receive him. "How rich are the depths of God!" exclaimed St. Paul. And it is these very depths that merge with our own through the divine penetra-tion and the graces it brings. This is by no means always a consoling experience. On the contrary it can seem to hurl us into an abyss of unmeaning which is caused by our incapacity to understand divine meaning and purpose in all their in-finite inclusiveness. Only faith can cope with the apparent absurdity, and too often in this state we experience ourselves as lamentably lacking in faith. 674 The Emptiness Within / 675 In this article I examine and comment on this negative aspect of di-vine and human intermingling by using the concept of "the inner Void." Normally, we human beings fill our days and nights with the busi-ness of living, working, playing, and social interchange. This is the way it has to be if society is to continue and be dynamic. For committed Chris-tians this day-to-day living and doing is permeated with another dimen-sion- that of being-in-Christ. The more fully they relate mundane ac-tivities to loving and serving the Lord, the more Christocentric their lives become. The more they cleave to him, the more the Trinity enters into their inner selves through the purity of their intentions, so that they truly become temples of the Holy Spirit. A pure intention is one that is centered on what Jesus stressed must be our fundamental option--"God's will, not mine, because I love him with my whole being." Strangely, the intensity of such a single-minded love can lead not to a blissful sense of fulfillment, but to its opposite-- an experience of crucifying inner emptiness, a void of unappeasable long-ing crying out for a God who appears not to care or even answer. How much longer will you forget me, Yahweh? Forever? How much longer will you hide your face from me? How much longer must I en-dure grief in my soul, and sorrow in my heart by day and by night? (Ps 13:1-2). The ache for God, disguised as it may be in a multitude of ways, yet seems to be endemic to the human heart. In Christ's followers it can be-come so insistent that it rules their lives. After many years of loving, faith-ful service to this object of their desire, a paradoxical inner state is likely to develop. The searcher for the pearl of great price and the glorious lib-erty of the sons and daughters of God, though consumed with an intol-erable yearning for God, now experiences him as absent just when he is loved and longed for most. This is usually a sign of the call to a much deeper relationship with him, one that has a different quality from any that preceded it. We are drawn by the Spirit into this state of being when all created things have lost their power to compel or fulfill us. We have learned, often in bitterness and pain, that none of them can supply anything but a temporary and partial satisfaction. Behind and through them we have kept glimpsing their Creator, and now he fills our vision and summons us to come closer. We have begun floating in our inner Void, sure at last that only his love can fill it. 676 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 Aware that he is calling and drawing us, we want with all our will to respond, yet we remain thwarted. Yearn and strive as we may, we can neither reach nor receive him. Empty and grieving, we experience him as the absentee God, yet we have never in our lives been more free of sin and fuller of love than we now are. Why has this Void opened at the very time when we are possessed by love-longing for God? To anyone familiar with the inner depth reality of the subconscious and unconscious, the answer will make sense. The roots of our attachments to what God has created, and the causes of our persistence in letting them come between us and him, are still bur-ied deep within us. They fasten us down to where we are so that we are unable to soar in freedom to him. Though we have done all in our power, with the help of grace, to love and serve him, and though deliberate sin of any kind has long been eliminated from our living, the roots of sinful tendencies remain there hidden away, so that we are not even conscious of them. We cannot locate or name them, let alone wrench them out or dissolve them away. In our impotence and humiliation we gradually re-alize only God can do this through his own mighty love and the grace he pours into us through his Spirit. Only his action can gradually dilate our hearts so that they are able to receive more and more of what he offers. Only his grace can pene-trate into our subconscious to reveal what is concealed there. Only it can in various ways impel upwards into consciousness what is hidden. Only his Spirit of Wisdom knows and can reveal to us in ways we can accept what must be made conscious and purified if we are to enter into full un-ion with the Trinity. By invading our depths, the Spirit is not violating our free will, for God knows our longing for him is such that at last we are prepared to let him have his way with us, no matter how much it hurts. "Oh God, my God, for you my heart yearns, like a dry, weary land without water" (Ps 63:1 ). God's answer to our yearnings is to fill our Void with himself. This process is purgatorial. After death we pass outside time and space into eternity and infinity. If at this transition we are not already filled with God, our Void goes with us. No one has returned to tell us how God deals with it then, but traditionally the Church has taught the doctrines of purgatory (a cleansing process through which grace fits us to receive and behold God), and hell, where our Void remains just that forever. All those, known and unknown, who have become saints before they died, The Emptiness Within / 677 have had their Voids filled with God in this life. Some have left records of what their experience was like, and these indicate something at least of what they endured under the Spirit's ruthless but perfectly loving ac-tion. St. John of the Cross's testimony is probably the most authoritative, instructive, and detailed, After stressing that this state of purification is one of darkness and pure faith, he elaborates as below. "The Divine assails the soul in order to renew it and thus to make it Divine; and, stripping it of the habitual affections and attachments of the old man, to which it is very closely united, knit together and con-formed, destroys and consumes its spiritual substance, and absorbs it in deep and profound darkness. As a result of this, the soul feels itself to be perishing and melting away, in the presence and sight of its miseries, in a cruel spiritual death, even as if it had been swallowed by a beast (as Jonas was). (and) in this sepulcher of dark death it must needs abide until the spiritual resurrection which it hopes for. ". But what the sorrowful soul feels most in this condition is its clear perception, as it thinks, that God has abandoned it, and, in his ab-horrence of it, has flung it into darkness. It is a grave and piteous grief for it to believe that God has forsaken it . For indeed when this pur-gative contemplation is most severe, the soul feels very keenly the shadow of death and the lamentations of death and the pains of hell, which consist in its feeling itself to be without God, and chastised and cast out, and unworthy of him; and it feels that he is wroth with it" (Dark Night II, Ch. VI, 1 & 2). The intensity and pain of this inner experience of the Void will vary according to the strength and depths of our sin-roots, the greatness of our love and longing for God, our perseverance and abandonment during the process, the degree of holiness (or wedding garment splendor and soar-ing freedom) God intends for each sufferer. This purpose of his is, of course, hidden in the mystery of his endless love, of which the Void it-self is but one aspect. If the Void is endured until the process of cleansing and freeing is completed, we have been through and emerged from our own personal purgatory. We are united with the Trinity in what has been called "trans-forming union" ("I live, now not I, but Christ lives in me") or "the spiritual marriage." "Alleluia! The reign of the Lord our God the Almighty has begun. Let us be glad and joyful and give praise to God, because this is the time for the marriage of the Lamb. His bride is ready, and she has been able Review for Religious, September-October 1990 to dress herself in dazzling white linen, because her linen is made of the good deeds of the saints" (Rv 19:7-8). Our Void has been emptied of self and filled with Christ. What are some of the hallmarks of this emptying and filling of the Void, in the here and now? Here is a commentary on a few of the main ones. 1. Helpless Waiting In the Void we have no alternative but to wait. I think of Mary be-tween the annunciation and the birth of Jesus. She knew she had con-ceived and that the Christ of God was growing and developing within her, but the process was and had to remain hidden and secret. What she did not know was exactly what and who the child would prove to be. God was at work in her, and she was co-operating pas-sively, through her fiat, by letting it happen and trusting him about the outcome of his labors. She was "full of grace" and so the whole pro-cess was under the Spirit's complete control. Her personal contribution was to stay still and see what eventuated. Once the Void opens in us, we too, must wait while Christ is formed in us in his fullness. We continue to live and love as Christians, to serve God and neighbor in our work, personal relationships, duties and offer-ings, all aimed at renewing the temporal order and purifying our lives from self-love and self-seeking. We have been doing these things for a long time and had assumed we would be persevering in them in much the same way till death. We do persevere, but not "in the same way." For now the Void is there, and we begin to enter a new dimension and level of being. Gradually grace enlightens us so that we understand something of what still needs to be done in our inner depths to open us to God so he can penetrate further. At the same time we are shown how it is beyond our own capacity and resources to bring about such a self-exposure. A chasm of helplessness and poverty gapes within us. We realize that in our frozen immobility we are still able to act in one specific way. We can let God act, and stay passive ourselves. We can let him do the un-veiling and the choosing, for us and in us in his own way and time. Our role is to surrender and wait. And wait. And wait . Waiting is a difficult art to learn and practice in our frenetically ac-tive and materialistic age. Neither our environment, education nor life aims and circumstances have prepared us for it. Though we try, we go The Emptiness Within on failing, because we cannot help interfering with God in spite of our best intentions. Humbled, we learn that only grace can enable us to learn this painful art. Under its influence, we slowly begin to relax and be still, and our Void gently opens wider in faith, trust, and hope. We realize how im-portant patience is, how lost we are if God does not help us, how he does not and cannot do so unless we deliberately exercise our free will and let him. Here the active and the passive merge. As we go on waiting, our helplessness deepens into a sense of im-potence. We are rather like quadriplegics who must depend on others for most of their needs. If they are not to be consumed with self-pity and rage, they must turn the necessary waiting that forms an indelible part of their lives into an art. We ourselves are not waiting for other people to help us, but for God. "I waited and waited for Yahweh. Now at last he has stooped to me and heard my cry for help" (Ps 40:1). 2. Longing for God Thirst for God consumes us in this state. "As a doe longs for run-ning streams, so longs my soul for you, my God. My soul thirsts for God, the God of my life" (Ps 42:1-2). We are like "a dry, weary land without water" (Ps 63:1). When two lovers are parted, they long ardently and painfully for each other's presence. In the Void we experience God as an absentee God, even as one who spurns us. We are hopelessly in love with him-- we would not have been invited by the Spirit into this level of being were it not so--yet he seems to be denying himself to us, to be teasing us cru-elly on purpose. We know he is there, believethis is so, and in some indescribable, formless way even experience him as indeed with us, enfolding us, and yet we never seem to reach or catch sight of him. In his absence we have faith he is present, but this is no comfort. It is like being alone in a completely dark room, yet having an intui-tive awareness of another Presence with us in the same enclosed space. We cannot see or touch him or even hear his breathing. Yet, shiveringly, we are completely certain Someone is with us. Perhaps because of this strange certainty, our longing that is never appeased intensifies until it possesses us. This absentee yet ever-present God and Lover we experience as capricious, so that our longing is a form of bitter suffering, and often we have to struggle against feelings of re- Review for Religious, September-October 1990 sentment and hopelessness. We challenge him, "It is you, God, who are my shelter. Why do you abandon me?" (Ps 43:2). There is no answer, no comfort. The silence is absolute, our hunger unappeased. In the end, we become dumb. Our patience in waiting has deepened as our longing intensified. We understand the time for consum-mation is not. yet, for we are not ready. We see that our longing is a grace, given to us so we will more readily submit to an even more radi-cal emptying out. We have not yet reached that total nakedness o.f un-selfed love which will indicate our readiness to be clothed in Christ. We have yet to long for this for his sake, his honor and glory, the fulfilling of his incarnational aims, instead of for our own self-gratifica-tion, and our pleasure in our own "holiness." At last we understand that our motives need radical purification, for they are laced together every-where by tenuous, yet tough strands of self-love and self-will. All holiness is God's. Of ourselves we have none until we have put on Christ and can glory in his glory, and love with his love. Our longing is being purified till this is what we truly want above all else. 3. Loss of Meaning and Purpose Whether it is a cause or a result of the Void is hard to say, but one of the hallmarks of this state is loss of meaning and purpose on one level, and final regaining of it on another. The loss shows itself in our life situ-ation in doubts and disillusionments about our personal relationships, and our aims, activities, and ambitions to do with worldly matters. What preoccupied us and fed our drive in our work now seems taw-dry and not worth all this effort. We question its reality and its right to absorb so much of our energy, to demand and receive our concentrated attention. Has it the right to fasten us so securely to the daily grind when God's insistent call to another level of being is there in the background all the time, distracting us? Of what use is "getting to the top"? Winning that big increase in salary? Being treated with respect and deference as the one who "has it all at her fingertips," the indispensable manager and organizer? There are times when we ardently want to "throw it all away" be-cause it seems so fatuous. Yet we know we cannot opt out, for we have a spouse to be faithful to, offspring to put through university, the mort-gage to pay off, obligations to associates to fulfill, our own lifelong am-bition to bring to its triumphant peak, a whole life pattern to round off harmoniously. Somehow we have to learn to live with our growing awareness of it all as a mindless treadmill "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing." The Emptiness Within In the face of the Void, it lacks reality, but, nonetheless, must be at-tended to. The true reality is an indefinable something located in our inner emp-tiness. It is drawing us till we want to let go of everything else and reck-lessly jump into that abyss to meet its embrace. At this point some people have a breakdown so that circumstances force them to take a long rest from their life-in-the world obligations and ambitions. Others keep on mechanically, but their heart is no longer in it, and they feel nothing but relief when someone else replaces them or the time comes for them to retire. This disillusionment and lack of drive registers as a humiliating disaster, yet it may well be a special grace open-ing the way for us to concentrate on "the one thing necessary." Alarmingly, the problem increases, rather than diminishes, once we free ourselves enough for such concentration. It is like a slap in the face to discover that we cannot find "mean-ing" in the things of God either, though we dumbly and idiotically know the meaning is there somewhere, expressed in ancient Babylonian hiero-glyphics no doubt! (And no one taught us at school or in the boardroom how to interpret these!) Faced with the Void and its implications, we find ourselves unable to understand God's meaning and purpose in our own lives or those of others. His actions seem arbitrary and often absurd. In fact, a general senselessness defying the rational mind pervades the whole Void. We slither aimlessly about, till we remember the lesson about staying still and waiting. When we apply this perseveringly, we are able to accept that it is no wonder we cannot understand the divine meaning and purpose when it is infinite and eternal while we ourselves remain time and space im-prisoned. It is also perfect love and omniscient wisdom, while we are full of "lacklove" and distorted vision. During the years spent in the Void we slowly learn to rest in peace in God's incomprehensible will, to trust its apparent irrationality, to have faith in its aim to express his beneficent care of us in and through our life circumstances even when they appear to be nothing but "a tale told by an idiot," to hope doggedly in a future blessed by fulfillment in bliss-ful union with him. Our concept of life's meaning and purpose has changed radically as grace permeated those levels where our basic semi- and unconscious re-bellion and misapplied self-will lay hidden but potent. 4. The Darkness of Entombment Review for Religious, September-October 1990 In the Void we are in the process of dying with Christ and being bur-ied with him so that our life may be his life and we be hidden with him in God, our glory part of his (see Col 2:12, 3:2-4). When Jesus hung upon the cross, he was in a kind of void between earth and heaven: the vacant space left by total immolation for the sake of others; the blank of utmost loneliness and dereliction expressed through his cry of abandonment and desolation; the kenosis of the God- Man brought about by the complete surrender of his awareness of his God-ness, coupled with his immersion in his representative Man-ness--his slav-ery as sin-taker for us when he himself was sinless. In various degrees and ways we, his lovers and beloveds, are invited by him to enter into his crucifixion and kenosis with him so we may even-tually share his resurrection glory. We have to die to self by hanging there with and in him through the sufferings--physical, mental, psycho-logical, emotional, and spiritual that God permits to come to us, and that our own and others' sins and sinfulness bring upon us. After the crucifixion comes the interlude of the entombment before the resurrection can occur. The sense of entombment is an essential as-pect of the Void. If we think of Jesus' corpse lying still,, cold, and alone on the stone slab, we shall understand some of the basic elements of the spiritual state of those called to die with him in order to rise with him. There is the darkness of this stone cavern behind its stone door. No chink of light anywhere. It makes us feel our intellect has been blinded and we shall never understand anything about God again. Though we carry on with our daily lives more or less satisfactorily, we suffer a kind of sense-deprivation of the spirit, (Only those who have experienced this state of being will find meaning in this paradox.) One form of torture of prisoners is to lock them into a pitch dark cell where there is complete sense deprivation so that time ceases to have meaning, as does everything else. Entombed with Jesus, we are in a similar state because all the satis-factions and enjoyments that come to a human being through his senses of hearing, sight, smell, touch, and taste no longer have power either to distract or fulfill us. We have become one-purposed in our longing for God, and the senses cannot tempt us away from it with their promise of surface, ephemeral delights. Since we have renounced the lesser good for the greater, the Spirit obliges by paradoxically taking away their irrelevant enticements--in a spiritual sense. To express it otherwise, our senses and our bodies and The Emptiness Within/ all our material being continue to function adequately for the purposes of everyday life. However, in relation to the spiritual life, we have be-come numb and dumb to their joys, attractions and any urge to seek deep meaning and fulfillment through them. We have been brought to that State where we float in the Void of blind faith that none of our senses can affirm as a reality. We gaze upon God without seeing him. We hear his Word without understanding it. We taste his supportive love without any sweetness or consolation--as if our taste buds had been anesthetized. He is weaning us from all such reassurances by imprisoning us in this Void of sense deprivation. He means us to learn how to enter, unencum-bered, into the central mystery of his Being, spirit to Spirit. He has led us into the depths of the Night of Faith. In it, usually for years after painful years, we learn to lie down with the dead Jesus in the tomb. We learn to lie there patiently and wait in our nakedness. We learn what being still really means as we contemplate the Savior's unbreathing body--not with bodily eyes, but with spiritual ones of unquestioning faith and a love stripped of self-seeking. We are seeds fallen into the ground and undergoing the hidden meta-morphosis from which we shall at last emerge, essentially changed per-sons, into spiritual resurrection. 5. Loneliness The inner Void is a crucifyingly lonely space of nothingness. We shall probably find there is no one who can understand our state, except one who is also in it, or one who has endured it and emerged. The one in it may be able to offer sympathy and sharing. The one emerged can give reassurance, understanding, encouragement, guidance, support, and hope for the future. This is so only if she or he has some understanding of what the lonely one is passing through or has emerged from. Such un-derstanding is rare. The Void can have many guises, including those of mental, emo-tional, or physical breakdown. It is often mingled with factors associ-ated with these. It adapts itself to whatever needs to be purified in the particular sufferer, since it is always under the control of the Spirit. It is not easy, and almost impossible, to discover a fellow sufferer who is enduring the same searching trial in the same ways. A qualified, learned, compassionate spiritual guide who has had both personal experience of the Void and of supporting others immersed in it is a very special blessing from God--one that is seldom given. An es-sential part of learning to live at peace in the Void's faith dimension is Review for Religious, September-October 1990 that of being able to trust oneself blindly to the hidden guidance and con-trol of the Spirit coming directly instead of through an intermediary. The purification process includes enduring it alone with God--and an absen-tee God at that. The only sure and never-failing companion is Jesus in his passion, especially in Gethsemane and in his cry of dereliction on the cross. We can find here, in union with him, the strength and purpose to endure, to hang helpless and in agony in absurdity, giving oneself up out of love for his redemptive work, staying with, and in him gladly, for love of him, sharing his loneliness and comforting his desolation. This is anything but mere sentimentality, as anyone who has really done it knows. It is a genuine, self-obliterating response of "Yes" to his questions, "Will you drink of the cup I must drink of? . . . Will you watch one hour with me? . . . Will you take up your cross and follow ¯ me? . . . Will you give yourself with me for others? . . . Will you love my Father's will wholeheartedly as I do to the end? . . . Will you fol-low me wherever I lead? . . . Will you go down into the darkness and die with me and then wait with me in my tomb till resurrection morning comes? . . . Will you dare Sheol with me? o . ." If we agree to share his loneliness, we shall indeed be lonely, and in that desolation share the essential loneliness of all abandoned, help-less, despised, outcast, comfortless human beings whom he represented on the cross, as well as those lost in the black loneliness of habitual, sev-ering sin, or those immured in purgatory in this life or the next. We may have friends who love and try to comfort us, but this will do little to ease what is a loneliness of our very essence crying out for God. Only if they have been through it themselves will they be able to apply balm. In the ultimate there is only one who can fill the Void of loneliness with genuine fulfillment and it is God himself. He is busy preparing in us a place fit to receive him. All we can do is wait in faith, hope, and love that feel like unbelief, despair, and a numb indifference that will never be able to love again. "Out of the depths have I cried unto thee, O Lord. Lord, hear my voice!" 6. Awareness of Sin The Void strips away inessentials, leaving the emptiness of nothing to cling to but God--and in.bare, stubborn faith. Because the motes in our own eyes (our absorption in the secondar-ies of created things instead of the one primary necessity of God) have The Emptiness Within now been removed, at least partly, by grace, we see much better. One of the things we see with our new sight and in startling clarity is the re-ality of sin. Not so much actual sins--these are fairly obvious to discern and we have long ago trained ourselves to watch and guard against them in our own lives. No--what we now see with the eyes of our spirit enlightened by the Spirit is innate sinfulness. We become aware of its substratum in ourselves (those tangled "roots" I mentioned earlier), and in other hu-man beings we have to do with. We helplessly observe it issuing from us and them in all kinds of meannesses, envies, prevarications, self-delusions, self-loves, rationalizations. Squirming and humiliated, we face, with the help of grace, that, "This is me . . . that is the person I loved and revered so much . " If we do not take care, this pitiless insight will cause discouragement and fear in ourselves, and a judg-mental, condemnatory, disillusioned attitude towards others--even cyni-cism. The taste of this racial and personal basic sinfulness is bitter indeed. We want to spit it out and rush to grab something, sweet to gourmandize on and hide that vile flavor. We have been living all the time with a des-picable traitor within us, and till now we have never even glimpsed him. His cronies are present in all other members of the human race, and from them emanate the sorrows, sins, evils and disasters of living on this planet that has been tipped off its axis. Some of the penitential psalms now have for us as never before a co-gent, humbling, and intensely personal message. Paraphrasing a little, we cry with St. Paul, "Who will rescue me from this enemy within?" and reply with him, "Nothing else but the grace of God, through Jesus Christ, our Lord." We know now that we really do need a personal Savior, that we would be lost without Jesus, that an essential part of our Void experi-ence is acknowledging our personal, basic sinfulness for which the only cure is the grace that Jesus gives. We cry, "Lord, you came to save me-- because I needed you so much. I need you even more now you have shown me the truth about myself. Only show me what you want of me, and I will do it. I will do anything at all for you, my Lord and my Sav-ior, because you have rescued me in my great need." This time we really mean it, because we are so much closer to Truth itself. We have been given the grace of a genuine horror of sin because of what it did to Jesus, and still does to him suffering in his members. We long to help heal the wound of sin in his Body. We offer our per- Review for Religious, September-October 1990 sonal wound of sin to him, humbly pleading for the grace of healing. As never before we understand the cleansing power and action of grace, sac-ramentally and otherwise. We hunger for it, seek it, open ourselves wide to receive it. We become beggars for it. We learn what spiritual poverty really means, and again lie down with Jesus in the tomb, content to be naked, trusting in his Body and Blood to heal us of our grievous wound. We are learning what it means to be dead to self and alive to Christ and his members. In the inner Void the self becomes so tiny in the Allness of God. We do not lose our individuality, but we long for it to be absorbed in Christ, so that we become exactly that aspect of his extended incarnation and continuous passion destined for us by the Father. We pray for deliverance from all evil--for ourselves, and for every other human being. We pray fervently, for at last we have "seen" what naked sin and evil are, and what they bring about--the death of the Loved One. 7. We enter a state of Heroic Abandonment and Endurance. Our Void has opened up enough for us to receive the grace we must have to enable us to lie down in the Lord in a state of advanced inner stillness, trust, and hope. The Void's darkness begins to take on the faint glow of incipient dawn, the intense silence is broken by the first tenta-tive twitterings of birds as something soundlessly rolls away our tomb's stone door. The sense of being stifled eases and we draw deep breaths of sweet, cold, dew-drenched air. There is deep within us an awareness of wounds having been healed, of a terrifying emptiness having been filled with Someone, of Love himself annihilating loneliness forever, of a still, si-lent, crystalline joy, and blessedness welling up from deep, deep down, crying in exultation, "Abba! Alleluia! Amen!" Then we see a Person is walking like a king towards the light grow-ing and glowing every second in the tomb's open doorway. It is as if the light emanates from him, as if he is The Light. Wondering and worship-ping, we rise from our stone slab, gather about us the new white gar-ment we find there and follow the Light into the new day. There is no void of inner emptiness anymore. Christ risen and triumphant fills it with himself. Shame: A Barometer of Faith Clyde A. Bonar Father Clyde A. Bonar is a priest of the diocese of Orlando, Florida. He holds ad-vanced degrees in formative spirituality from Duquesne University and in political science from George Washington University. He has served as parochial vicar and administrator of various parishes. His address is St. Joseph of the Forest Catholic Church; 1764 S.E. 169th Avenue Road; Silver Springs, Florida 32688. Aristotle called shame "a feeling or emotion . a kind of fear of dis-grace."~ Interestingly, what one values and what one distains can pro-vide a source for these feelings of disgrace. This allows shame to become a barometer of faith. For the faithfilled person, lapses in living one's faith, for example, can be causes for shame. Conversely, one who scorns religion may find shameful any personal exhibition of faith in an Eter-nal Being. In this paper I shall examine the generic core of "shame" and re-late the experiences of shame in the life of Francis of Assisi (ca. 1182- 1226). Francis' well-known incidents with the lepers caused that saint feelings of shame. Notably, why Francis felt shame about the lepers dif-fered in the earlier and the later parts of his life. Because of that, Fran-cis becomes illustrative of how shame can be a barometer of one's faith. On Shame The Generic Core The core of the shame experience is a sense of exposure and visibil-ity. 2 First, shame is intimately linked to the need to cover that which might unwantedly be exposed. Experiences of shame involve the expo-sure of the peculiarly sensitive, intimate, and vulnerable aspects of the self.3 Something is to be hidden, dodged, or covered up; even, or per- 687 61~1~ / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 haps especially, from oneself. Feelings of shame included "I am weak" and "I am inadequate." The particularities of what must be covered to prevent exposure may vary widely and are individually determinate. For example, while a physical deformity caused Philip in Of Human Bondage4 to feel shame when his clubfoot was exposed, a deeper shame burned "in secret" as Dimmes-dale in Scarlet Letter saw Hester Prynne bear in public the blame for their joint carnal indiscretion .5 Socrates warns of the disgraceful shame of ap-pearing inept in the presence "of some really wise man.' ,6 Personally, for example, I have felt shame for the way I treated a traveling compan-ion during a three-day trip. Second, there is an intimate connection between shame and visibil-ity. 7 When Yahweh called to Adam after he and Eve had eaten the for-bidden fruit, Adam said: "Because I was naked . . . I hid" (Gn 3:11). In his phenomenology of shame, Jean-Paul Sartre claims that shame arises from the look of the Other. "Shame. is the recognition of the fact that I am indeed that object which the Other is looking at and judg-ing." 8 When another looks at him, Sartre comments: What I apprehend immediately., is that I am vulnerable, that I have a body which can be hurt, that I occupy a place and that I cannot in any case escape from the space in which I am without defense--in short, that I am seen.9 Everyday expressions repeat this connection between visibility and shame. We speak of being "shamefaced" or "hiding my face in shame" when others know our failures, inadequacies, or losses of con-trol. A Happy Blush Two other aspects of shame need to be kept in mind as we proceed: that the feeling of shame comes unexpected. That first and physiologi-cal manifestation of shame, the blush, highlights the involuntary and sud-den characteristic of shame. Helen Lynd is perceptive on this aspect of shame: Shame interrupts any unquestioning, unaware sense of oneself . More than other emotions, shame involves a quality of the unexpected: if in any way we feel it coming we are powerless to avert it . What-ever part voluntary action may have in the experience of shame is swal-lowed up in the sense of something that overwhelms us . We are taken by surprise, caught off guard, or off base, caught unawares, made a fool of. ~0 Shame / 689 In his illustration of the voyeur at the keyhole, Jean-Paul Sartre confirms the "immediate shudder" of being unexpectedly caught: "All of a sud-den I hear footsteps in the hall. Someone is looking at me!''~ Importantly, this self-consciousness contains a revealing capacity. Again, it is Sartre who captures this: "Shame is by nature recognition. I recognize that I am as the Other sees me." ~2 Shame carries the weight of "I cannot have done this. But I have done it and cannot undo it, be-cause this is 1.''13 The thing that is exposed is what I am. To "recognize" one's self is to be open to reformation, and there is the delight. Adrian van Kaam writes that "reformation implies a re-appraisal of formative and deformative dispositions, judgments, memo-ries, imaginations, and anticipations." ~4 If experiences of shame can be fully faced, if we allow ourselves to realize their import, they can inform the self and become a revelation of one's self. The question is exactly what personal disposition is revealed by the quick reddening of the blush, the sudden feeling of shame, this which involuntarily and unexpectedly just happens. Writing back in 1839 on The Physiology or Mechanism of Blushing, Thomas Burgess reported that the blush reflects "the various internal emotions of the moral feel-ings [so that one could] know whenever we transgressed or violated those rules which should be held sacred." He continued to point out that, given this "spiritual" nature of the "blush," it is "solely a moral stimulus that will excite a true blush.''15 That is~ it is our value system that is re-vealed by shame. For example, if I hold dispositions mostly congenial with the particular individual God designed me to be, a blush will reveal that there are also some uncongenial and not-reformed dispositions. Or, by contrast, if my fundamental orientation is that talk of God is mean-ingless I may blush at some scruples within my disposition constellation that would be more in agreement with faith in an Eternal Being. Among The Lepers The immediate question is what should not be exposed, what should be covered from visibility. Francis' experience with the lepers proves in-structive. In his "Testament" he wrote: The Lord granted to me, Brother Francis, to begin to do penance in this way: While I was in sin, it seemed very bitter to me to see lepers. And the Lord Himself led me among them and I had mercy upon them. And when I left them that which seemed bitter to me was changed into sweet-ness of soul and body.~6 This too brief statement includes all the elements of experiences of 690 / Review for Religious, September-October 1990 shame. Fallen Nature of Humanity By his words "While I was in sin" Francis refers to his youthful years. In his parents' home he enjoyed the easy life his successful father could provide. He was a most likable lad, clever, charming, smooth-talking, and insanely generous. Francis had a gift for business and seemed born to be a merchant like his father. The son enjoyed dressing with a studied elegance and entertaining at a good inn with the best of everything. Friends flocked around Francis when he appeared and played the troubadour with his Provencal songs. 17 One would say that Francis was reflecting the fallen nature of hu-manity common since the first sin of Adam, living in ignorance of the true transcendent nature of humanity. ~8 Caught in the competitive trade of the cloth merchant, his father taught Francis to live by that competi-tion. Escape in the exigencies and the excitement of being the business-man became a way of life, with questions of transcendence relegated to minor, occasional thoughts. Responsibility for being a faithfilled Chris-tian example for others was evaded, for the other was also typically the customer, who was to be sold something even if that meant a little de-ception and an excess of charm. Immersion in the sensual joys of life was a natural corollary in a society of, according to Pope Innocent III, "obscene songs, dances, and fornications." 19 Still, why was Francis affected by the lepers as he was? Other youths, his peers in cultural refinement and the easy life, would merely hold their noses when they smelled the horrible stench of the lazaretto where the lepers were confined, and unashamedly turn their horses a dif-ferent direction. But for Francis the human misery breathing death right into his face was incredibly disagreeable. And, the young clothier would experience shame when a wretched beggar would intrude.2° A clue to Francis at this early point in his life, while he was still "in sin," lies, I opine, in the phenomenology of shame. As we saw above, shame is an experience of the whole self: in moments of shameful expo-sure it is the self that stands revealed.2~ Existentialists state this force-fully: in the consciousness of shame, there is "a shameful apprehension of something and this something is me. I am ashamed of what I am . Through shame I have discovered an aspect of my being."22 The self that was standing revealed for Francis'was, in the terms of Adrian van Kaam, his foundational life form. The image of God deep within Francis was being exposed. Thomas Burgess, cited above, might say it was the internal moral feelings of Francis which were being ex- posed. As early as twelve years old Francis was struck in some special way by the elevation of the consecrated host during Mass. In the mud-dle of being dominated by his sensual and functional dimensions and his sociohistorical situations, the inchoate thunderbolt of the transcendent was there. But within the flamboyance and egotism of the sensuous and romantic party giver he appeared to be, Francis would feel shame when his more basic faith in God would protrude. His lifestyle hid from visi-bility the transcendent, as he took greater pleasure in identifying him-self as a prince of the world and knight of Assisi. As God's chosen who would become God's anointed, the young Francis would feel shame where others had no such self-consciousness. According to our paradigm of shame, what Francis's apparent life form, or way of being in his environment, sought to cover during these early years of his life was his foundational life form. When his "vul-nerability" or "inadequacy" was exposed, that is, his sensitivity to the sufferings of lepers and beggars, he felt shame at the "flaw," which was his deeper felt love of God, becoming visible through the cover of how he presented himself to others. Attuned to His God Francis was twenty-four when he stood in front of the episcopal pal-ace at Santa Maria Maggiore and stripped off his clothes in hot haste and threw them at his father's feet. God had seized him: the sinner faded to give way to the saint. But watching his second naked birth, the crowd fell silent, for this "erstwhile dandy" was seen to be wearing a hair shirt. "It was a hideous penitential device of horsehair for killing the instinct of sensuality and chastising the flesh day and night."23 The peni-tential hair shirt was a symbol for what had been happening for some time in Francis--the transformation from dissonance to consonance with the Eternal, a change from running away from God to running toward God. For our present emphasis, we might remember the words of Francis: "Bernardone is no longer my father," but Our Father who art in heaven. The words indicated his change. For Francis, shame is no longer from having love of God exposed within a life lived as a merchant, but henceforth the shame was in having any failure to love God exposed within a life of excited faith. Now, when Francis embraced the leper, as we quoted above in the words of Francis, "that which seemed bitter to me was changed into sweetness of soul." The contrast is sharp between the experiences of shame for Francis before and after his transformation. Upon encountering the so distaste- Review for Religious, September-October 1990 ful leper, "He slipped off his horse and ran to kiss the man . Filled with wonder and joy, he began devoutly to sing God's praises." He be-gan to render humble service to the lepers and "with great compassion kissed their hands and their mouths." Further, the lover of complete humility went to the lepers and lived with them. He washed their feet, bandaged their ulcers, drew the pus from their wounds and washed out the diseased matter; he even kissed their ulcer-ous wounds out of his remarkable devotion.24 Francis took the bold step of overcoming the conventional perception of what is attractive and what is repulsive by reaching out to love what re-pelled him. And the change in the source of shame was seen in other aspects of his life. When his pre-transformation apparent life form had dominated, Francis's selfish pride would tell him to feel deep humiliat

Issue 39.2 of the Review for Religious, March 1980. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration ~;ith faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The'editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned 'by the Miffsouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri, © 1980. By REVIEW t,'OR REIA(;~OUS. Composed. printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at ~;t. Louis. Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year: $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year. $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REvt~-:w t:o~ REt,~(;lOUS: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth. Minnesota 55802. D:~niel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read .Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor March, 1980 Volume 39 Number 2 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and hooks for review should be sent to Rt:vlt:w volt Rt:lA~;~o'us; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answer~ing should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Spirituality and Theology Alan Jones Father Jones, an Episcopal priest, is Professor of Ascetical Theology and Director of the Center for Christian Spirituality; 175 9th Ave.; New York, NY 10011. His last article in these pages, "Obedience in' the Conteinporary World," appeared in the May, 1978, issue. Non abundantia scientiae sed sdntire et gustare rein internam. (Saint Ignatius Loyola) Dogmatic and mystical theology, or theology and "spirituality," are not to be Set apart in mutually exclusive categories, as if mysticism were for saintly women and theological study were for practical but, alas, unsaintly men. This fallacious division perhaps explains much that is actually lacking both in theology and spirituality. But the two belong together. Unless they are united there is no fervor, no life and no spiritual value in theology, no substance, no meaning and no sure orientation in the contemplative life.' One of the g~'eat privileges of the sabbatical system is that it not only affords the professor an opportunity to follow a particular line of research, but it also enables him to "feel and to taste the inner thing" of his subject. When it comes, however, to the subject known as mystical theology, there is som~ dispute as to whether there is anything either to feel or taste! All I can say is that after my sabbatical, I have felt and tasted Something that might well be a subject. I feel defensive, however, on two fronts. The first is the enormity and depth of the subject itself. The second is the suspicion, odium, and contempt in which the subject has been held by some theologians over the years. The first problem is more easily overcome than the second, for every scholar in whatever subject must, at various times, be overwhelmed by his inadequacy to ' Thomas Merton, Seeds of Contemplation (1972), pp. 1"97-8, quoted in Andrew Louth, Theology and Spirituality (Fairacres Publication 55, 1978), p. 4. 161 162 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 19~80 / 2 plumb its depths. This gives me a certain comfort. The second problem, however, is of more practical concern and is~more difficult to overcome. The cleavage between theology and devotion is surely a fake one, although some fakes and frauds have a wonderful way of pretending to be real. The ugly breach (albeit based on a false dichotomy) between "the intellectual" and "the affective" over the centuries has done serious damage to both. Lo~,e is blind; the intellect is a cripple--so runs a classic image. In order for both to progress according to this. image, the intellect sits on the shoulders of the affections and guides them while the affections give feet to the intellect. In the same way, theology and spirituality belong together. Andrew Louth writes: So spirituality.[is] that which keeps theology to its proper vocation, that which prevents theology from evading its own real object. Spirituality does not exactly answer the question, Who is God? but it preserves the orientation, the perspective, within which this question remains a question that is being evaded or chided.Spirituality is necessary to theology to keep il in its proper vocation. The converse also seems .to be true, that theology is necessary to spirituality to keep, it to its proper vocation . The danger of a non- or un-theological spirituality is.that it will tend to become a mere cult of devotion.~ The immediate occasion of these thoughts which have been sitting in the back of my mind for some time was a casual remark in a letter from a dean of a seminary concerning the possibility of ~ colleague of mine doing some teachi.ng there,in the area of spirituality. In the middle of his friendly letter there was a well-aimed barb. While he welcomed my colleague's coming to the seminary, he was not sure that his faculty would r~egard Christian Spirituality as a discrete discipline. Now this is harmless enough. Fair game, one might say, in academic circles.' Still, underneath the joking there is a vein offseriousness. In other words, I take seriously the phony breach betweeri head and heart," between "theology" and "devotion." But 1 am even more concern~ed by the fact that this so-called bre~ch is thought to be real~ by at least some theologians. The idea has come abotit that the gap has always been there and always w, iil be. Of cohrse we have to bri~dge it occasionally, but this is usually done in the privacy of ou~" schizoid selves when we say one thing and do anotheL The gap, though,~ has to be obliterated, not just bridged, one way or another, and 1 would like to see it destroyed first in the intellectual realm itself.~ ~ ISOuth, op. cit., p. 4. o ' This is where both recent scholarship and the Christian mystical tradition might,.h~lp us. The books which set me. going on this subject were. R. C. Zaehner's Gifford Lectures for 1967-69, Concordant Discord (Oxford University Press, 1970), [this is a strange rag-bag of a book, polemical yet urbane, containing some brilliant insights]; William Johnston's The Inner Eye of Love (Collins,-1_978), which is the.first rece'ni attempt that I know of to argue for the recognition of mystical theology as "a discrete discipline"; Bernard Lonergan's Method of Theology (Dartbn, Spirituality and Theology One might start" by asking whether academic the61ogy itself is a,.discrete discipline. As Andrew Louth points out: ° Academic theology., needs some understanding of its own inner coherence to justify ~ . itself at all as an academic d~sophne, otherwise the several d~sclphnes ofwh ch t consists really themselves belong not together but to other wider disciplines." Without Jesus Christ as a principle of coherence th~ Old Testament just a collection Of semitic writings, the New Testamen a collec~tionof Jeffish and Hellenistic ~Je~vi~sh writings of the first century, and early'Christian doc.- trine a mere st'rand in the history"of ideas?ol~ Ithe later Roman Empire; s~irituality empha.sizes the "principle of coherenc, e" which holds together a seminary cufricultim. Theology serves spirituality .by rescuing it'from a chronic subjectivism. It is tragic when theology a~ad spirituality aredi'vided. Wird Christus Tausendmal zu Bethleh6~n geboren Und nicht in dir, du bleibst doch ewigli~h verloren. (Though Christ in Bethlehem a thousand t!mes was born But not in thee, in all eternity, thou art~forlorn.}6 ¯ ,Tr~ue, but,dangerous, "for without any, corre~cting influence the 'Christ born in me' will become the sort of Christ who can!be born in me. He will tend toAose the historical lineaments of the first-.centur~y~Jgw he was. He will lose his strangeness.He will cease to be the.one~who confronts us in his~sovereign individuality ~.A_c_a~emic the~ology, the dispassionate study of the witness of Jesus of.Nazareth, can provide~that corrective?'' ,This is why we learn Greek. "The strange language.is a symbol of t.he:~strangen~ss of thought that must be passed through before we can understand the GoSpels aright_.':a Longman, & Todd, l~70),~which' provides a method by which such a discipline Can be reestab-lished;:'~ and 'finally, Richard 'of' S(." Victor's" Benjamin' Mino'r~ Benjamin Major'and The Four Stages in the Mystical Ascent (in Clare Kirchbe?ger's Richard bf Stl Victor." Selected Writings on Contemplation, Faber and Eaber, 1957; also M~igne'.s~P,.L.CXCVI). The latter author I consider impbrtant as one who has managed to I~eal the breach between theology and devotion, even though the Victorines tended to side w~th Bernard against Abelard. All four books helped me r~discoVer the fact that there ts such~a subject as mystical theology! ' Lofith,~op. cit., p. 10. - '~Somemight, take exception to this since "the Old ~Testament revelation has an,integrity of its own, independ~ent of the New, as the flourishing Jewish religious c0mmuni~y of our time testifies. The Old Testament is the matrix of Christianity, and is essential for Christianity's identity and S~lf-definition whereas Chri~ianity'is ~n~t simiiarl~, essentiaj for Judaism" (fro~ Dr. J~.mes Carpenter's response to the first draft of this paper). I am in complete agreement with hi~ her~, bui m~' poini was not io disparage the Old Testafiaent revelation as far as Jews are Concerned, but simply to affirm that I cometo.the Old Testament in and through the light of the Christian revela-tion. Dr. Carpenter's trenchant and illuminating comments on the first.draft were helpful in my making this revision, and 1 gratefully acknowledge my indebtedness to :him. ~ Louth, op, cit., p: 10: " ~ Ibid., p. I 1. ~ Hoskyns Cambridge Sermons, 1938, p.xxiii. ,. ' ° 164 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 Let us first take a brief look at the roots of the apparent conflict:. The disastrous cleavage between theology and religiousexperience goes right back, of course, to the beginnings of the struggle to articulate Christian belief. The formal "break," which has never really been healed, came, I suspect, at~he time ~)f the Renaissance and Reformation. For me, though,°it is sym-bolized in the earlierconflict between Abelard ~nd Saint Bernard. Ts-hy sym-bolized, because it would not be historically accurate to in~,est these two men with the rigidqualities ! am ascribing to them. Abelard represents theology. He was the proto-scholastic, whose unchastened intellect led'to his ruin. Saint Bernard represents affective piety, the burning heart devoted to God in prayer. Even though Saint Bernard won the first battle of the'campaign, it was Abelard, i believe, who won the war. The conflict resolved itself in two systerris in the thi~ieenth century: that of Saint Thomas Aquinas and that.of Saint Bonaventure. But who has heard of Saint Bonaventure's system apart from those few who are either medieval historians or students of mystical theology? Now, l know that what It have 'written here is somewhat of a caricature. Abelard, ifi places, reveals "a remarkable balance between in-tell'ect and feeling;''9 Saint Bernard, at times, seems to be devoid of feeling altogether., In reality, though, there was no real victor. Theology,became merely the tool of.the roving intellect. Bernard enjoyed ~nly a Pyrrhic ,victory. Abelard representedsomething vital to the healthy development of piety, that is, a probing and critical intelligence. Without theology, devotion was to go its own way. Without devotion, theology was to dry up and become, in Zaehner's words, "the plaything of desiccated mandarins.'''° Louis M. Martz sums up the situation in this way: During the Middle Ages .the scholastics threw a deep s~hadow over the affective life, a shadow which led some, such as Thomas a Kempis and his Brethren of the Common Life, to renounce scholastic subtletie§ as the brood of folly and the bitterlfruit of that curios~tas which St. Bernard denounced as the father of sin." I do not want tO paint too bla~k a picture. Nor do I want to reject Abelard. It was not _all bad, and there w~ele some .6otable men who were both brilliant scholars ahd committed contemplatives, Jean le Charlier de Gerson (1363-1429) for example, of whom most people have never heard! He wrote a synthesis, On the Mountain of Contemplation, the power of which was.such that it was cited b~, Richard Baxter in The Saints Everlasting Rest (1653): "Read'this you Libertines, and learn better the way of de+otion from a Papist." '~ Dorothy Sayers, writing about the problems of understanding Danters ~ James Carpenter. ~ ,~ ' ~o Zaehner, op. cit., p. 280. ~' Louis L. Martz, The Poetry of Meditation, a study in English Religious Literature of the Seventeenth-Century (N. ew Haven: Yale University Press, 1954, revised 1962), p. 11.2. ~ Ibid., p. 169, quoted from The Saints Everlasting Rest (1650), part IV., Spirituality and Theology / 165 Divine Comedy today has three things to say whic,h are germane to the discus-sion in hand: , . first, theReformatio~, which tended to substitute an infallible Book f6r that of a liv-ing and infallible Chur~ch; fpllowed by the Counter-Reformation whic~h tended to make doctrine a more rigid, and inelastic thing--to objectify an~d pigeonhole it, and to take as one,may say, 'the poetry out of it.' Secondly, there was a growing obsession with scien-tific method, leading men to discount all values which whre not (in .the modern sense) "~scientific," so that no truth was held to be true if it could not be tested in the~labofatory. A third point., is the increasing segregauon of specialists in th6r own specialties, so that the scientist is not expected to study theology nor the ttieologtan to study scmnce, nor either of them to be an artist or a poet. ~ Dorothy Sayers' third point is, perhaps the most telhng from the point of view of this PaPer. Over-specialization has made ,us mistake the fake breach for a genuine one. We are like the heretics Farinata.' and Celvalcanti trapped in the same tomb in the Inferno, yet each oblivious iof the other's presence. It was not always so. For Anglicaris the seventeenth-century was a period when the basic unity between the cognitive and affective was affirmed. It can be seen in the Caroline divines and in the metaphysical, poets. The coming together of the intellectu~il and the affective is summed up in a characteristi-cally seventeenth-century word, sensibility: the union of thought and feeling. In the nineteenth centuWroyr,d s"w "o~rt h w a s c o n 'cerned with. developing the "feeling intellect." In Catholicism the split was formally repudiated during the Counter- ;Reformation and the establishment-of-seminaries after the Council of Trent with their curricula which divided theology up to include ascetical, ~mystical, and mor~l departments. I do not believe the repudiation went very deep, but there was, at least, some attempt to deny the gap.~Classical Protestantism, of course, had no u'~e for mysticism whatsoever, and it is interesting to find Richa~'d Baxter trying to justify papist practices of meditation to the puritans. Asceticism and mysticism of any kind suggested the terrible possiblity of earn-ing salvation. It smackedbf merit and not of grace. But how were the saints to grow in grace? Baxter tried to remedy the situaiion by producing the first puritan treatise 'on the art of methodical meditation to appear in England. Why did h~ want to see regialar meditation restored to puritan piety? Without meditation theology was mere theorizing. All the preaching, teaching, and reading is so much-dros~ if it be not internaliz~d,~if the inner reality is neither felt nor tasted. ~ | And why so much preaching is lost among us and profess rs can run from sermon to ser-mon, and are never weary of hearing or reading and yet have su~:h lariguishing, starred souls; 1 know of no truer or greater cause than their ~gnorance, and unconscionable neglect of Meditation." ~'Dorothy Sayers, Further Papers on Dante (Methuen, 1957), p. 88. " Martz, op. cit., p. 154. 166 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 Baxter was not entirely successful in persuading his puritan readers. Enthusiasm was the mark of the elect, rather than the practice of methodical mental prayeL This seems to be just as true today. All efforts at prayer and meditation wbre doomed to fail. One had simply to"w~it!on the mysterious opera~tions of the Holy Spirit. I m~ention this'because_the suspicions0concern-ing mys~ticism and mystical experience run very deep.-When ~hey are repressed they come out in some other form, as Baxter himself realized. The puritan was led "to' expect 0nly Enthusiastick Consolatiohs.'''~ The answer tO wild and pathological charismatic exi~eriences is a sound'~ syst.emati~ and mystical theology. That iswhy t6day, in the face of "religious experiences,'?we need to redevelop and rediscover criteria for judging them. I believe taking seriously ofl~e again th~ study of mystical theology will be a step ifi achieving this. , .~O_ften it has been believed that ~mysticism ~ran ~th~ot~gh Christianity li~e a streak of insanity in the family. Every generation or so a mad man appeared who had to be put away or ignored. This was the prevailing x~iew, for examlSle, of Brunner, who brilliafitly, if unconv'indn~gly, a~rgued the Protestant case againstmysticism. It was a Pelagian aberration, a neo-pl~itonic impurity sully-ing the integrity of Hel~raic ~eality. A wedge was placed between the so-called prophetic religions and the so-called mystical ones: MystiCal religion was passive, ihactive, .quietist, not interested in ~he, world ~nd its sufferings." Ironically, of course, prophetic experience in the Old'Te~tamen( as an im-mediate experience of the reality of God is my.stic~l. What was Moses if not a myStic? Nevertheless,~ the vtew has long prevatled that mystical and propheti~ r.ehglons were opposed to one another. Anghcans took th~s up just before and Well after the Second World War in the pursuit of wl~at ¢vas theft called "BiblicAl Theolo,.gy." Iremember my old profes.sbr, Alan'Richardso~, ~i~n- ~ sistin~ in his gen'tle way that Christianity was essentially ant~-mystical. ~Fh~ puzzl6d me greatly at the time since I had the tempe~rament which took mystic)sm as a given of human experience. Richard.sob, no doubt,~meafit mysticism in the Brunner sense (as essentially monistic add pantheistic), but Brunne~:'s hssessmen~ of mysticism ,~s so one-sided and limited as to be~ in the end, unconvincing. Mysticism's only real ally amon,_g P(otestant theologians, as far as I can make out, wag Tillich. Without theological" undergirdings, mysticism be6om~s, .in Richard Norris' marvelous phrase, little more than th'e building and furnishing of a private little "hacienda of the soul.'"' There has been no stern~ ~ritic, in the " Ib;id., p. 157. ' . '~ See his Bicentennial Lecture, "Hunting the Transcendent," unpublished, but available from the Center for Christian Spirituality. His iconoclasm with regard to spirituality is thorough. I think he gives, implicitly at least, what R.C. Zaehner asks of the theologian: i.e., "not a theology of the Death of God. but a theology of the death of self, the death of the human ~'person,' who is not only our old enemy, the ego., but also the ego~who has 'got religion' because:he thinks he has found the 'true' self." (Zaehner, op. cit., p. 208). ., . ,° Spirituality and Theology / "167 best sense, of mysticism/spirituality-- call it what you will -- than Dr. Norris. He has certainly helped and influenced me in moving towards a~more critical approach to the subject. His" own introductory lectures in Systematic Theology at theGeneral Theological Seminary of New York, (a course which I once shared with him) were undergirded by what I would call "mystical theology." His whole thesis revolved around the-uflcovering of the structure of a relationship between God and the world. Mystical theology is about nothiiigqf.it is not about that. ~ Nevertheless, there are enormous odds against developing a rigorous mystical theology. Traditions are hard to break. Anglicanism gets the worst of both worlds. From Western Catholicism it inherits the'ancient, if false, cleavage between tl~eology and devotion; from Protestantism, deep suspicions with regard to any systematic, disciplined devotional life. There is one final obstacle to look at before we examine the state of theology today and try to negotiate for the reacceptance of mystical.theology as.an object of serious study. It is the obstacle of a peculiar mind-set: hard, obdurate, pseudo-scientific, fundamentalist. By "fundamentalist" I refer not only to a crass literalism with regard to the Bible, but to a crass literalism towards all "facts." - It was not accidental to find, during my days as an.undergraduate; that the Christian fundamentalist students were often, studying~scientific subjects like zoology and biology: subjects of observation and classification. I believe.there is a kind of academic fundamentalism wtiich is just as infectious and insidious as a biblical fundamentalism. It tends to see" facts" as flat, o he-dimensional. This~fundamentalism finds it hard to acknowledge that there may be more than one level ot: truth, more than one way of looking at, reality~ Some early biblical critics, for example, were no less dogmatic in telling us what a par-ticular periscope signified than the fundamentalist. There is little or no sense, in this mind-set, of the value of symbols in pointing to the inexhaustibility of "facts." : Tobe fair, this mind-set goes with scientific technicians rather than with the ,brilliant scientist who, like Einstein,~can make intuitive leaps like the mystic. The best description I havre come across of this mind-set is that of Edmund Gosse °writing about the a~titude of his parents to the Bil~le. It should be remembered that his father, Henry Gosse, was a zoologist. It involved: a definite conception of the absolute, unmodified, and historical veracity, in its direct and obvious sense, of every statement contained within the cove~'~ of the Bible. Further, " - and for my fatli~r, nothing was symbolic, nothi.ng allegorical or allusive in any part of scripture. Both my parents, I think, were devoid of sympathetic imagination. Hence there wa.s no,mysticism about them. They went rather to the opposite extreme, to the cultivation oi" a rigid and iconoclastic literalness.'7 'Edmund Gosse, Father and Son (Penguin Books, 1907, revised 1970, pp. 49-50). 168 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 -Literalness of mind can attack the professor of any discipline, not least that of mystical theology. One has only to read Tanqueray and even Harton to realize how far the "~reification.of ideas" can go. Andditeralness is nowhere more dangerous than ~vhen dealing with "the anatomy of ~ouls." The question is, how do I harmonize (insofar as t want to) all my ex-periences, .all the bits and pieces of the self? I do not think it unreasonable of me to look to theology:.for guidance and help. My spiritual nourishment comes from all sorts of apparently strange places: the novels of Iris Murdoch, my downstairs neighbor banging away at the piano and singing at the top of his voice, our family meals, a stimulating lecture by a colleague, and a host of other things besides the more obvious,centers of Christian devotion. A rigid, literal mind will not help meointerpret and harmonize these differing experiences. Before'we mov~ on to examining what might be the structure and method of a mystical theology, let us look at.the study of theology as such. There has been a great deal written already about theological studies which suggests to me that mystical theology is being slipped in through the back door. Theology which is rooted in present experience or theology as biography suggest an ap-proach to theology-which sees it as a reflection on religious experience (which, to get ahead of myself, is William Johnston's definition of mystical theology). In other words, there is a tendency for theology to be experience-based. Theology is a living, reflective encounter with a living tradition, and not "an understanding which is~at several removes from, and well-insulated against, the reality of which the scriptures speak.'''8 1 think this is why there has been such a resurgence of interest in religious experiences of all kinds:=-some of them, it is true, dangerous and bizarre. The hunger, ,however, is'real enough. It is easy to see why the academic world so easily gets jaded, cynical, and tired. Frankly, we do'not have time to experience much, let alone reflect on it. Theology then becomes dealing with experiences always at second or third hand. A sabbatical such as mine provides an opportunity for what Charles Peguy called "pure reading." Pure readers are those "who read a work solely and simply for the sake of reading it or taking it in, to feed and nourish themselves on it as a precious foodstuff, in order to promote growthdn themselves, to promote their inner, organic~dignity, not at all to use it as something to work with, to promote one's social status in a secular society.'".9 Without this freedom to read and think for its own sake, the pleasure is sapped out of teaching. As R. C. Zaehner puts it, "The joy has turned into tedium, and it is the tedium that one is likely to transmit.''2° La chairest iriste, h~las!'" wrote Mallarme, et, j'ai lu tousles livres ("sad, sad, is the flesh, and 1 have read all those books"). Theology takes a certain amount of leisure, and leisure is ver.y expensive. It Trevor Ling, Buddha, Marx, and God (London: Macmillan, 1966), p. 197. Quoted in Zaehner, op. cir., p. 18. 2o Ibid. SpiritUality and Theology is, however, only meditative reflection that the mere curiositas which Saint Bernard railed against turns into astonishment and admiration. But admira-tion on its own will not do either.: Wonder needs an ihterpreter. Devotion needs theology, and that is why it simply~will not do to relegate mystical theology, to the rubbish heap, since_it_reappears in other._f.o.rms.(in-the-new jargon_~s ~f~co~t~xtu~al education and storytelling theology). Christian mysticism, insofar as it has been a mere interlope.r from Neo-Platonism,2' needs the severe censure of theology. When devotion is cut off from theology, curiositas does notomove towards admiration but to superstition. God becomes, for the theologian cut off, ,from devotion, a "pale, intellectual substitute for the God of Abraham, God of Isaac, God of Jacob"; for the mystic, God becomes either a crazed Oriental despot or To Hen, the great blob into which he longs to be absorbed. |n fact, the deeper one goes into the realm of mystical experience, the more vital is the critical eye of theological discrimination. Devotion to the point of ecstasy . can lead to a terrible moral indifference. Detachment can easily degenerate into disassociation and the wild inflation of the ego. The "1" that has beenJannihilated becomes "God"! In the Bhagav.ad Gita (18:7) we read: "A man who has reached a state where there is no sense of 'l',.whose soul is undefiled--werehe to slaughter [all] these worlds--slays nothing. He is not bound."22 This has tremendous social implications, as more and more persons long for just such an experience which annihilates the "I"~. and therefore annihilates moral responsibility. The rise in mindless acts of violence and un-motivated crimes points to a religious, as well as sociological disease. Depth p~ychology has taught us that we cannot help acting out our inner ¯ life, and it would be just as well if ~'e were to know something about.it. We might even learn to cultivate it,.not in the Norrisian sense of tending our own little "hacienda," but in the sense of cooperating with, and even co-creating of, our inner life. I cannot do this without the critical discipline of theology. But ~there is a further implication because, not only does the individual live out his inner life, but that same inner life eventually overflows and floods into social forms. The Church, of course, has been left out in the cold in that it has found itself largely bankrupt to offer alternatives to the hungry masses who feed on the spiritual, supernatural, ~ind often superstitious banquet provided by the ambient culture. Theology has done httle to ~nterpret these ~mpulses or ~ to help people develop a discriminating palate with regard to the various ¯ delicacies available. That some of them are deadly is beyond question. The mass suicides of the followers of the Reverend Jim Jones in Guyana point to the literal deadliness of some forms of "religion." So it is not simply a.matter 2, See Zaehner, op. cir., pp. 14Iff. ~ Ibid., p. 231. Zaehner goes on to give the modern instance of a totally unmotivated murder com-mitted by one whose mind is "still, pellucid, and free from occupation" (Andrew Gide, Les Caves du Vatican). 170 / Review for,Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 of academic niceties. A strong, critical seminary faculty could mean a matter of life and dea~.~th,_.It coul~ave a,.strong-i~iv-'~'~'ffd:-~-~-diating-r~l~, par, ¯ ti-c~larly when it looks as if we.might be victimized inside the Church, as well as~without, by new fanaticisms and enthusiams. =, The reader may have'been,frustrated by the fact that I have gotten this far without, givinga definition of what Imean: by mysticism (except as "religious experience"). Dean Inge gave twenty-six definitions in his Christian Mysticism of 1899. Iread.that book (which is not about Christian mysticism at all, but about neo-Platonism), .but since 1899 there,~have been significanli developments to,warrant our adding a hundred more,to~,the "~gloomy dean's" twenty-six. William Johnston. has recently struggled¯ with this problem of definition in. his The Inner Eye of Love. ~ ~ o~' If we go back to the Middle Ages we find that there is no distinction be-tween mystical theology and mystical experience, Jean Gerson (1363-1.429), whom we have already mentioned, writes: Theologia mystica est experimen-talis cognitio habita de Deo,per amoris unitivi complexum (Mystical theology is.~xperimental knowledge of God through the embrace of unitive love).2~ From this Johnston points out. that 'Christian "mysticism,is wisdom Or knowledge that :is found through love; it, is loving knowledge.'??' It is also ex-perimental, knowledge. It is not abstract. It is personal. And as we shall see later, w.hen we take a brief look at Richard of St. ~Victor; mysticism comes to fruition only when it reaches out in love towards others and towards the world, .in what we would call social action or outreach.: Now in my plea for the redevelopment of the mystical theology, I do not wish to imply that nothing has :'been done to reflect theologically,~about mystical experienceiin a systematicway. Roman Catholics have been trying to do"this since,the thirteenth-century, and I have waded through the treatises of Poulain and Pourrat, ,Tanqueray and Garrigou-Lagrange. The trouble witch these works is,that~they are pre-Freudian and pre-Jungian in outlook. It seems to me that it would be hopeless to try to develop a mystical theology today without relying heavily on the insights of these two great pioneers. °.Johnston claims that. the call to loving contemplation is given to everybody. It is supremely human activity. He also affirms that mystical ex-perience (if we go deep enough) is "a passage to'the¯ordinary.''2~ I certainly found this true in my short month as a hermit. It was, quite simply, a move-ment into the wonder of the ordinary. Johnston relies heavily on Bernard Lonergan's, Method in Theology in order to find a definition for mystical theology. As .Lonergan writes, "Method is .not a set of rules to be followed metiEulously by a dolt. It is, a, framework for collaborative creativity.''~ Lonergan is searching for a "transcendental method" which seeks to include not only what is thought, See Johnston, op. cir., pp. 19ff. ~'.lbid~, p. 20. ~ Ibid., p. 37, Lonergan, op. cir., p. xi. Spirituality and Theology / 171 heard, and reflected~upon, but also who it is who thinks, hears, and reflects. Theology seeks a .place where we emerge as persons, meet one another in a common concern for values, seek to abolish the organization of human living'on the basis of competing e~oisms and to repla(e it by an organization on the'~iasis of mhn's pdri;eptiven~ss and intelligence, his reasonableness, and his responsible exercise'of freedom.2' ." ":' L~onergaii"goes o~'i0 define th.$o_Jl.qogy as "refl,ection on religion,"~while Johnstbn ~defines mystical theology_as reflection on mystical~experience. "M~,s'ticism is the experience{haystical theology is reflection on thig~:ex-perierice." 2s We need the latter to combat the ~endency to~anti~-in~elle~tua.lism today, particularly in areas where religidus exl~erience~is coficerned.'"We need," sa~'s Johnston, "to interpret mystical experiefice and fihdits meaning: We~ nebd to distinguish the ahthentic from the inauthentie. Then there is the practical need to guide people.''2~ ~" The data, then, of mystical theology are the experience of mysticism, past and present. The sources are the Bible and the varied witnesses of the Christian tradition. It is conc~erned with° research, texts, history, and doctrines, but is is interesting to note that when Lonergan comes to the foun-dation of theology as such, he speaks of reflection or conversion. ~o Mystical experience has always been the v~ery core of theology. The theology of the Fathers "welled up from their mystical experience. But [and this is very significant] it also led to mystical experience." ~' Johnston goes on to pinpoint the problem today: ~ ,~ The~great temptation of theologY' has always been to di{'orce itself from mystical ex-perience. This was a very real problem in the Middle Ages; and it is a very real problem today. Particularly so, since,m the:last, few centuries theology~has bee_n grea!lY pre- 0 . qccupied with controversial issues; has becomeoextrem~ ely~academic., .and has largely di~vgrced itself from spirituality. Contemplative experience has been relegated to the pious writers on pious books. This is scarcely a healthy situation; for a theology which is divorced from the inner experience of the theologian is arid and carries no conviction. ~' If Bernard l~onergan is rjgti~ ip t~hat the Present and the futurewill be characterized by "the switch to interiority" then we will need to heal the breach between devotion and theology if we are to speak to our generation. Can w~ speak not ofily from "a wealth of sound scholarship bu~ also from a° wealth of personal experience"?~ Johnston gloomily concludes that theologians as a breed s~em particularly resistant to conversion: "The~ theologians i'emain unregenerate.''~' I am not so pessimistic, for this has not Ibid., p. I0. Johnston, op. cir., p. 43, n. 1; Lonergan, op. cir., p. 267. ~ Johnston, op. cil. " Ibid., p. 58; Lonergan, op. cir., p. 130. Johnston, op. cir., p. 56. Ibid., pp. 56-57. ~ Ibid., p. 57. Ibid., p. 58. 172 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 been~my experience. When Alan Richardson rejected mysticism he was plainly advocating it in another sense. When Richard Norris points tothe dangers of what can so easily be a non-subject, he lectures about the God whose being is only uncovered in relationships. He lectures about love. When a seminary dean slips in.a "dig" abou.t discrete disciplines, he unrepentantl~ sees that this non-subject is given i~riority in the seminary curriculum. '.'As conversion is~b~sic to Christian living, so an objectification of,~conver-sion provides theology with its foundations.''3~ So writ.es Lonergan. Priority is being given, at least implicitly, to Lonergan's definition of theology as reflection or,conversion in its intellectual, . moral, and religious dimensions. The latter dimension is the concern of mystical theology. The converted per-son is like someone in love "without limits or qualifications or conditions or reservatio,ns;i'36 Lon.ergan's counsel to theologians is in the form of four "transcendental precepts": Be attentive. Be intelligent. Be reasonable. Be responsible. Later he insists on adding a fifth: Be in love.~7 Lonergan's counsel comes to me almost as a command, as an antidote to madness. Coleridge (and I wish I could locate the reference) delineated two kinds of madness: the moral and the epistemological. Moral breakdown seems easy to discern, but what about the epistemological breakdown where nothing means anything and every human longing and aspiration is relativized out of existence? There is a saying attributed to Saint Anthony: "A time is coming when meri will go mad, and when they see someone who is not mad, they will attack him saying, 'You are mad, you are not like us.' ,,~8 What exactly do I mean by epistemological madness? It is a form of "in-sanity" which atta.cks true knowledge in two ways which are contradictory. " Lonergan, op. it., p. 130, see also,'p. 241; Johnston. op. cit., p. 58, n. I. -'~ Johnston, op. cit., p. 58;oLonergan, op. cir., p. 106. -" Johnston, op. cit., pp. 60, 61; Lonergan, op. cir., pp. 10ft. 1 do not have time, an such a short paper, to do justice to Lone~'gan. And I confess that it took Johnston's book to bring me to a sym-pathetic reading of Lonergan's. I had tried a few years ago and found it then indigestible! Lonergan goes on to say, "Now in a sense everyone knows and observes transcendental method. Everyone does so, precisely in the measure that he is attentive, intelligent, reasonable, responsible. But in another sense it is quite difficult to be at home in transcendental method, for that is not to be achieved by reading books or listening, to lectures or analyzing language. It is a matter of heightening one's consciousness by objectifying it, and that is something that each one ultimately, has to do in himself and for himself" (Lonergan, op. cit., p. 14). ~ The Sayings of the Desert Fathers, tr. Benedicta Ward, S.L.G. (Oxford: Mowbrays, Cistercian Studies #59, 1875), p. 5 §25. Spirituality and Theology The first way is to say that we can know absolutely nothing. Everything is relative. Nothing, in the end, signifies or matters. It is easy to see how'this form of madness leads to moral breakdown and corruption. The second way is to say that we can know' everything (at lea~t in principle). Knowledge is graspable and finite. This is manifested in the various ideali~sms, dogmatisms, and fundamentalisms which drive people mad. It is also easy to see how this leads to a moral bankruptcy of a different order: a bankruptcy of.legalism. Both ways of madness have a root cause: the lust for security (not unlike the two forms of gnosticism which were and are manifested in libertinism and rigorism). "Nagging doubts engender rigid certainties." One way invites us to get lost in a desert of nothingness of the°destructive kind. The other lures us into a jungle of moralism. Both are places where the human spirit soon dies. The dilemma is this: how to have something, to live for, an ideal, a goal, a vision, without our vision being deified, our ideal being the cloak for megalomania. There is a way to resolve.the dilemma. It is a hard way, however. It is the way of prayer. The Christian call to contemplation is an antidote to individual and collective madness, particularly to the epistemological madness, which is attacking our culture now. Lonergan's four precepts are, in effect, the structuring of an epistemology which covers our "knowing" from direct experience, to inquiry and under-standing, through reflection and judgment to decisive action. His sources and references are interesting--Horney, Maslow, Rogers, and Piaget. They all stress the social and historical character of human knowledge. Indeed, Lonergan is the first major theologian I have discovered who really takes the development of human consciousness seriously. Ironically, the only other place that I know of where there is an analogous.ascending scheme of epistemology is in mystical theology. There we begin with study, move into prayer, and end in contemplation. Most of what we call knowledge is really only the first form, study. It is very important and in no way to be despised. Contemplation is not simply the beholding of God in a non-vocal, non-discursive way. In the end, it is that. But it is also simply taking as large a view of things as possible: ltis a mode of knowing, a way of considering every kind of knowledge . It is a free and clear ~regard of the soul, directed to the object of knowledge, gathering in comprehensive-ly many single points, dwelling thoughtfully and poised in wonder upon its object.~9 Now tla~s is a contemplative method of approaching all knowledge. It is only a metho~l, not the method. Indeed, the analytical method is also very im-portant. But unless all our knowing points to a loving contemplative end we ar~ bound to fall into one or other of the traps of epistemological madness. ~ Kirchberger, op. cit., p. 39. '~ 74 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 We.will find Qurselves either;among the libertines or among the rigorists: the know-nothings or the know-it-alls. Contemplation does not require sacrificium intellectus sorightly feared by philosophers and theologians. It does, however, require sacrificing the primacy of theintellect. Contemplation requires its dethronement. It seeks to reverse [he process~of its reification and deification. The intelligentia (for the Victorines, for examp!e, who were Catholic humanists, fundamentally op-timistic about the human condition) is the instrument of the contemplative act, suspended, it is true, during ecstasy, but essential afterwards for integra-tion and interpretation. Intelligentia here is, of course,, not so much the naked intellect of discursive reasoning, but rather an intuitive vision, a sort of unitive principle at the heart of the intelligence which.seeks to harmonize experience. Richard of St. Victor, _for example, says that: the character of contemplation varies in three ways¯ Sometimes it effect~ an enlarging of the mind, sometimes a raising and sometimes an abstraction¯The enlarging of the mind is when the gaze of the soul expands widely and is intensely sharpened, but this in no way goes beyond the limit~of human effort. The raising of the mind is when the activity of the intelligence, d!vinely.i/lluminated, transcends the limits of human effort but does not go over into ecstasy, so that what is sees is above its powers but the soul does not withdraw from its accustomed way~ of knowing . Ecstasy is when the memory of things present withdraws from the mind and it moves by a transfiguration divinely wrought, into a state of soul attainable'by"hunian effort . The first is caused by human effort, the third only ¯ by divine grace, the middle one by a mingling of both, namely human industry and divine grace. Our concern here as theologians is with the first mode of contemplation, with the first step in the third mode in our ascending scheme of epistemology. Richard. goes on to tell his readers that this first step (the enlarging of the mind) . ¯ can be dev~eloped in,three.ways: by art, by exercise, by,a,ttention. We attain the art of' doing someihing when we learn how it is to be done either from good masters or by in-vestigation. The exercise is when we put into practice what we learnt of the art and make ourselves quick and e'~fective in carrying out this practice. Attention is whi:n we reflect . with effort on what we have carried out with great diligence . By these three degrees., the depth,,of mind is widened and made more apt for any kind of Aear~ning or skill." This is not a bad description of educational method as rooted in a move-ment of contemplation which leads into the great knowing of "unknowing," to the knowledge which is love. But, aswe have seen, even this mystical ecstasy is not the end, nor is itthe sole object of our spiritu~al life (the furni.shing of our hacienda!) There is one more act of sacrifice required. "T, he.,la~s~ self-surrender to.God is the surrender of the self-centered desire for Go~, and the final possession o~God on.earth :comes.in union, with Christ's fruit-bearing Ibid., pp. 183-184(Benjamin Major V, ch. II). Ibid., p. 186 (Benjamin Major V, ch. 111). Spirituality and Theolo~,y. /175 life of sacrifice and gervice to the brethren and all 'mankind.'''2 The end of Christian contemplation, then, is always compassion. Presumably it is also the end of theology. As Lonergan says, man achieves authenticity in self-transcendence. One canlive in a world, have a horizon, ~ just in the meastJre that one is not locked up in oneself. As the question of God is ~mpllClt ~n all our questlomng, so being ~n love with God ~lS the basic fulfdlment of our conscious intentionality.'" ~ ~ I fully acknowledge the tendency of~.this strange subject to be.~a parasite on the backs~of the other disciplines. It seems to encroach on territory not its own~ Itcan be annoyin~ and vague and at the same' time'arrogant and preten-tious. It needs help an, d understan~ding ~f itis no(to be a Cuckoo lhying its eggs in the meticulous and well-constructed nests of others. In a way, Christian ~pirituality does not have a separate existence of its own. It exists only in rela-tion to other disciplines, but I would like to see it develop symbiotic rather than parasitic relationships. I repeat, the final end of Christian mysticism is compassion. In Richard of St. Victor's De Quatuor gradibus violentae caritatis (notice here that love is passionate!) he writes that there are four stages in the mystical ascent. There is knowledge of self (meditation). Then there is the ascent to God (contempla-tion). Thirdly there is absorption into God(whichRichard calls jubilation and which, alas, often gets identified as thepoint of mysticism). Fourthly, there is the going forth from God (compassio~n),." In the first degree, God enters into the s~ul and she turns inward into herself. In the second, she ascends above herself and is lifted up to God. In the third the soul, lifted up to God, passes over altogether into-him. In ~he fourth the s0ul gbes forth on God's behalf and descends below herself. In the first she enters~into h'~rsblf, in the second she goes forth from herself. In the first she reaches her own life, in the third she reaches God. In the first she goes forth on her own behalf, in the fourth she goes forth because of her neighbor. In the~ first' ~lie enii~rs in by meditationl.in the secondshe ascends bylcoi~templa-tion, in the third she is led into jubilation, in thefourth: ~she goes out by co~npassion." Theologyi~pushed by!its own p~o~bihg anffliv~ely'fin, certainties, ends either with compassion or with despair and cynicism. , Just as unrestricted questioningis our capacity for sdf-transcendence, so being in love in ~ an unrestricted fashion is the proper fulfillment of that capacity. That fulfillment is not the product of our kno.wledge and choice. On the contrary, it dismantles and abolishes the horizon in which our knowing and choosing went on and it sets up a new horizon in which the love of God will transvalue our values and the eyes of that love will transform our knowing.'~ _, But the very experience of transcendence raises the very issues which theology must continually face. Ibid., p. 46. Kirch'berger, op. cit., p. 224. '~ Lonergan, op. cit~, pp. 104-105. '~ Lonergan, op. cir., p. 106. 176 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 Man's response to transcendent mystery is adoration . Accordingly, which mystery is not to be confused with problem, the ongoing contexts within whic~ mystery is adored and adoration is explained are anything'~ut free from problems.", Academic theology comes into its own' by probing those experiences which otherwise would rob Christianity of its giveness and strangeness.~ Rigorous theo!ogy saves Christi~.nity from becoming domesticated and f~mili~ar. Le! me end with a quotation from Diadochus Photic~:. . the theologian tastes something of the experie_nce of the contemplative, provided he is humble; and the contemplative will little by little know something of the power of speculation, if he keeps the d~isce~rning part of his soul free from error. But the two gifts are rarel§ found to the same degree in the same person, so that each may wonder at the other's abundance, and thus humility may increase in each." Ibid., pp. 344-345. " Louth, op. cir., p. 14. Now Available As A Reprint The "Active-contemplative" Problem in Religious Life by David M. Knigh~t Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 ¯ 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Celibate Friendship Brian O'Leary, S.J. Father O'Leary is a staff-member of Manresa House; Dollymount; Dublin, 3; Ireland. He characterizes the present article as complementary to his first one, ~'Reflections on Apostolic Celibacy" (May, 1979), "dealing with the horizontal dimension where the other dealt with the vertical." One of the difficulties with using the word celibacy in the context of religious life is that .the primary meaning of the word is negative: abstinence from marriage, or the unmarried life, the state of .non-marriage. But if con- ~secrated celibacy is agift from God, then it cannot be so~ethi~.n.g negative. At most it :can have a negative aspect or side effect, aconcomitant frustration or ~'painful limitation. But the gift itself must be positive. Religious celibacy is for living, for loving. It has everything to do with interpersonal relationships: with the God of Abraham, 1.saac and Jacob; with Jesus, :the enfleshed and full revelation of that God; with peopib, men and women, near and far, good and evil. It has to do with love received and love given; with life lived to the full through carin~ and being cared fore through reachir~g o~ut and being reached out to, through c6mmitment to people and having peop!e committed to us. Our relationships with God and with people ai'e closely intertwined. Our Iexperience of being loved by God and loving God is somehow dependent on o~" exp'erience of being loved by people and loving people. St. John wrote: "Anyone who says, 'I love God,' and hates his brother, is a liar, since a man who does not love the brother that he can see cannot love God, whom he has never seen" (I Jn 4:20). We can also argue! a man Who does not experience the love of his brother whom he can see, cannot experience love of God whom he has never seen. We need to give and receive a love which is tangible in order to give and receive a love which is !ntangible. Remembei" the lines ot: William Blake: 177 178 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, .1980 / 2 i looked for my soul but my soul 1 could not see. 1 looked for my God but my God eluded me. I looked for a friend and then l found all three. ~ Religious are not usually exempt from this dependence on human love and friendship in their seai'ch for God. Celibacy itself, far from lessening our need of the experience of love, is offering us a greater freedom in loving, and conse-quently a greater facility in finding God. This latter ideal is well expressed in the Autobiography of St. Ignatius where we read: His devotion, that is, his ease in finding God, has always continued to increase and now more than in his whole life. Each time and hour that he wanted to find God~ he found him? This is the experience of a lover, but of one whose love had been purified since the immature days of his young manhood when his love for God and people had leaned more to the fanciful than the real. Describing his convalescence from his war wounds received :at Pampl.ona he says: Of the many vain things that presented themselves to him, one took such a hold on his heart that he was absorbed in thinking about it for two or three or four hours without realizing it: he imagined what he would do in the service of a certain lady, the means he would take so he could go to the country where she lived, the verses, the words he would say to her, the deeds of arms he would do in her service. He became so conceited with this ~ that he did not consider how impossible it would be because the lady was not of the lower nobility nor a countess or a duchess, but her station was higher than any of these.~ . ~ Because Ig'natius' experience of human love at that ti~me'was of this dreamy, romantic kind,'his way of loving God was similar: to undertake great and ar-dubus deeds and penances" such as his spiritual heroes had undertaken: St. Dominic did this, therefore, 1 have to do it. St. Francis did this, 'therefore, i have to do it.~ There was far more of Ignatius in that way of loviiag than there was of God. But gradually h~gi'ew both in human love and in divine love, parallel ex-periences keeping pace with° one another, inextricably intertwined, almost be~:oming one." Finding God in all things ahd all things in God. What then can b~ said about human love? A very great d~al if we judke by the' ~tmount that has been written about it from early epic poetry through lyric poetry, drama, thenQ~el and other literary genres. But .let us take just one series of reflecti6hs from a modern psychologist, Erich Fromm. The Autobiography of St. lgnatiu's' Loyola, Harper Torchbooks (1974), p. 93. Op. cit., p. 23. ~ Ibid. Cefibate Friendship What does one person give to another? He gives of himself of.the most precious he has, he gives of his life. This does not necessarily mean that he sacrifices his life for the other, but.that he gives him of that which is alive in him; he gives him of his joy, of his interest, of his understanding, of his knowledge, of his humor, of his sadness, of all expressions and ~a~ifestations of that which is alive in him. In~ thus giving of his life, he enriches the other person, he enh~ances the other's sense of aliveness by enhancing his own sense of aliveness. He does not give in order to receive; giving is in itself exquisite joy~' Fromin's emphasis here on one's aliveness that is giveri,~shared and enhanced reminds us of the statement of St. lrenaeus: "The glory of God is man fully alive." If wetake glory in its biblical meaning as a visible and tangible manifestatioff of God's presence, as in a broad sense of sacrament of God's presence, then'we can see how in truly human love God can be found and ex-perienced. It is not a question of arguing from the reality of human love to the realitY, of divine love, but rather of experiencing divine love through the ex-perience of human love. To shut oneself off from human love either through fear or inhibition or anxiety or some stoical ideal of spirituality is to cut oneself off from the p6ssibility of touching and being touched by thedivine. Strange as it may seem', mature human love does not come easily and spon-tane0usl~ to us. If left unreflected on and undirected, our loving tends to be egocentric, selfish, possessive, jealous--in a word, sinful.' Mature love demands all the patience and pain and even dying associate~l with growth. For most people, whether Christian or not, the normal ambience for such~growth to maturity is the family. This can be a schpol~o_f generous, self-g~ving love through_.the muluple relationships which kmt tts meml6ers tok'~lier. G~wng, receiving, sharing, each alter~ates--h~ i--~'~a~p-'~f~"~i|y that is closely united in love, yet otie that is not closed in u.p6n itself in a complacent, smug manner.~ The family itself has to. be open to others. It was in our own families that we first learned experientially about love, and we carry that gift with us throughout our lives. Conversely, we also carry the inevitable limita-tions and.deficiencies of that experience throughout our~ lives. Hence the need for being in touch with our past, for forgiveness and I~he letting go of resent-ments, and bitterness, for self-acceptance and the,~healing of memories. But now as adults we are called to a different life-style, one demanding the renunciation of any possibility'of founding a family of our own and bringing new human life into the world. This means that we are renouncing the use of the most natural and normal means for growing in mature, human love. Such a decision is not to be taken lightly. We must be sure that we can grow without such help. Ours is a minority kind of vocation,,~a minority life-style. But the call is still growth, maturity and love. The road may be,steeper, in many ways more solitary, but'it will also be less encumbered. There are two paradoxical 4~, requirements: to develop a capacity and even a desire~.for solitude, and to develop a capacity for deep and lasting friendships. Solitude and friendship ¯ The Art of Loving, Unwin Paperbacks (1975), p. 27. 180 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 are the two keys to a'healthy, integrated, celibate life. In both we find ourselves, the other, and God. Friendship in the lives bf religious takes many forms,, is experienced in many contexts, and has many degrees of intensity. As we live in comm~unity we are first challenged to look for friendships there. Ideally, at least, some close relationships in this. arena should be possible. ~Then there are the people whom we serve in our direct apostolate and those others with whom we col-laborate; some friendships of depth' may well emerge from these sources. Finally, there are the friends ~wejust happen to form from chance meetings or strange coincidences. All of these together give us a wide range of relation-ships such as is healthy and envigorating for any person to hav.e. It~'is an enriching and broadening experience to have friends among many age-groups, different social classes, varied occupations, and so on. Through them we touch life and are touched by life. As we move across the spectrum from acquaintance to friendship to close friendship to deep, intimate love, the reality of our celibacy becomes moreand more pertinent. In a relationship of mere.acquaintance the fact of being a con-secrated celibate is almost irrelevant, but in.a relationship of deep loving it becomes central. Some religious feel safer hovering around the center of that spectrum--and undoubtedly they are. But for others the call to take the risk of deep loving is part of God's call to respond to His love.This they accept with joy, yet they remain aware that their celibacy is a fragile as well as a beautiful gift, and that it has to be guarded as-well as celebrated. Relation-ships of deep, intimate, .human loving can exist between a man and a woman, a man and a man, a woman and a woman. So let us reflect on the conditions in which a religious might feel free to sustain and foster such a relationship. 1. The religious must be mature. As we have seen, maturity is a process of growth, and so the requirement of being mature is 'in some sense relative. What it means basically is that the person be comfortable with his or her own sexuality, be able to know and accept himself or herself as a sexual being. Fur- ,ther, his or her desire must be to create an adult'relationship between equals, not one of emotional dependency. This latter could happen should someone Ibe searching for a deep relationship out of a need,'overt or latent, to relieve or escape from acute loneliness. ~., 2. The religious must be.well rooted in his celibate calling. This will include having a strong personal attachment to Jesus, to the Church, to the order or congregation, to the apostolate. It presupposes a sound and vibrant life of prayer. Deep relationships starting from an insecure commitment can lead one out of religious life, o~ toan alienated existence within. 3. There mustbe an awareness and understanding of the other person's sexuality, and of his or her capacities, weaknesses and needs. An awareness also of the inevitable tendency towards greater intimacy, physical as well as Celibate Friendship psych61ogical. Hence there has to be moderation in the bodily expression of tenderness, affection and love. Touch can be a. beautiful language of com-munic~ ition, more expressive than the spoken or written word, but it can also be a 'gateway to mere~ gratification. It is not enough for a religious only to avoid sexual sin, but he must be sensitiveto the truth of every gesture, and to questions such as: "What is this action doing to the other person? What is it saying to him? In what emotional state is it leaving him?" Self-knowledge and sensitivity to the other go hand in hand. 4. Besides being grounded in one's own vocation, the religious must also affirm and desire the growth of the other in his vocation. This means really wanting and working for the other's growth in celibacy (should he be a religious), or for the other's growth in married love (should he be married). Should the other person be single, the religious must be careful not to stunt the other's affective growth in relationships with other men and women, thus cut-ting off the chance of marriage. Finally, any giving in to a sterile fantasy: "If only things were different"; "if only we were free"; "if only we had met earlier in life," is dangerous, and constitutes a degree of unfaithfulness to our commitment to Christ. 5. The relationship must not be exclusive. The ideal is to be totally non-possessive, and in that sense truly free. The ability to make and sustain other friendships with either sex should be fostered. Celibate love is primarily universal in character. 6. The relationship must be open. This means'o(a) open to God. The two people involved should be able to pray with sincerity about their love both in-dividually and together. In such prayer ]hey will receive guidance and strength. But such guidance and strength is also mediated through people, and ~o such a relationship should also be (b) open io spiritual directors, superiors, mutual friends. There is n~eed of a.constant evaluatioffof such a relationship, and a third party (this can mean one or more persons) can be helpful and ob-jective. Any tendency to hide a relationship, to secretiveness and furtive behavior is a danger signal. 7. There must be a willingness to endure pain, to go through difficult times. This is required in all human loving, but it is especially necessary in celibate love 6f a deep kind because in such love we allow, to a greater 0r lesser extent, the frustrating aspect of.celibacy to surface and be experienced. To the degree that the dynamic towards exclusivit~y and sexual union develop, to that. degree will it become more painful to keep on choosing celibacy. The person unable to tolerate such pain either leaves religious life, or, as in no. 2 above, he endures an alienated existence within his community. 8. By their fruits you shah know them. A relationship such as this cannot be divorced from every other aspect of the celibate's life. If the loving is healthy, life,giving and creative, it will enhance the quality of the person's prayer, community living, apostolic commitment, other relationships, and in-deed his general well-being. By using these criteria it is to be expected that the 182 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 relationship will aid positively to the growth of the person involved, ~n.o.tTbe something merely neutral' or indifferent,~but rather be a~strong contribut~ing factor to human and spirit.ual development. Thins aim is admittedly very,,high,. but one who is living the'qonsecrated life should be able and willing to accept. these criteria, demanding as they are, and eval~uate any intimate relationship accordingly . Now Available As A Reprint Psychosexual Maturity in Celibate Development by Philip D. Cristantiello Price: $.60 per copy; plus postage. .Address': Review for' Religious Room 428 ~ 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Catherine of Siena: Mission and Ministry in the Church Suzanne Noffke, O.P. Sister Suzanne; past president of the Racine Dominican Sisters, having just completed a' new and unabridged translation, of the Dialogue of Catherine, dev?tes herself full time to ,research, writing, and speaking on Catherine and her thought.,. Sister Suzanne resides at 2070 Allen Blvd., #2; Mid~leton, WI 54562. atherine of Siena~ was a woman who knew to,an amazing depth who she was--because she responded with such amazing: fidelity to God's revelation to her of who he is. That revelation, was nev~er for .Ca,therine (nor is it for .any of us) one finished pa~ckage, oNo, she entered. Jnto, it ~lyvel by level throughout her life as she met each new insight and wrestled with its implications and demands. But essentially there were~always those two t~hreads: Catherine knew God as boundless Truth and Love, and she knew herself as limited and even sinful, yet°loved a~d gifted, o The dynamic of Catherine's growth could be very appropriately described in terms of~the classic "transcendental precepts": ~ , Be attentive. Be intelligent. Be reasonable., Be responsible. Her attentiveness to divine initiative in her life is obvious at every stage of her awareness; it was so sacred a matter for her, in fact, that she regarded any failure in that attentiveness as a breach in. fidelity. She was very conscious of, and delighted in,°the active play of her own understanding as an intelligent be-ing in ,re,,ceiving GOd's manifestation of himself. But the play and the deligl~t were never a short-circuited contemplationS: her reason searched out the im- 183 184 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/2 plications of what she saw; and her whole being owned and responded to thoge implications in her living, no matter what the cost to herself. It is so far the picture of a beautifully human, thoroughly moral and noble person, and a discussion of mission and ministry could legltimately be drawn from it. Yet if our model encompassed only these levels--even in faith--the total reality of Catherine, and the fullest ideal of Christian mission and ministry would be muted to a kind of drudgery of diaty well done. Such could conceivably be true and heroic holiness, but we are invited to so much morel Bernard Lonergan captured the sense of this "more" when he added to the four transcendental precepts a fifth: Be in love~' . Now we may love many people, but.to be in love is a much more rare and precious phenomenon. Catherine did not simply love God: she was madly (she herself uses that modifier again and again) in love. And it was one in love that she was attentive, intelligent, reasonable, and responsible. It was love that fired her urgent sense of being sent, her sense of mission to ministry. If we would learn about mission and ministry from Catherine, we must remember that we are looking at and listening to a woman in love. And we must remind ourselves that God is in love with us too~, and that we too are in-vited beyond simply lok, ing him to the mad sanity of being-in-love: "not that we have loved God, but that God has loved us!''2 A Question of Discipleship We are dealing here.with the whole question of dis.cipleship. A disciple is One who learns from another's person as much as from his body 0f teaching: And a disciple in the gospel t~'adition is ultimately and most imme~diately a disciple of Jesus~ Any others who are models and guides' in the Christian ~vay are such only because, and insofar as, they are, first, true disciples themselves. "Take me as your model," writes Paul, "as I take Chris~?'3 In the end, "you have only one teacher, the Christ."' " ' ¯ Catherine's ~rescription for those who would be guides to others describes well her understanding of her own role toward those who were her 'disciples: Be trumpeters of the incarnate Word, God's Son, not only with your voice but with your deeds. Learn from the Master of t(uth, who practiced virtue before he preached it. In this way you will produce fruit and be the channel through which God will pour his grace into the hearts of those who hear you? Catherine, true disciple that she is, can well be both model and teacher to us, for her life speaks as forcefully as doher writings, which could have grown only out of such a life. Method in Theology. LondOn: Darlon, Longman and T0dd,_1972, p. 13. 1Jn 4:'10. ~ I C6 11:1". Letter 226, to Raymond of Capua, c. i376~ ' Mt 23:10. Catherine of Sienb: Mission and Ministry in the Church The Context of Mission and Ministry for Catherine ~ , All of Catherine's life and all that she says about specific questions can be fully understood only/in the context of hei" m.ost bhsic convictions. In isolation from these, so muchwould be--and has been--~ubject to misrepresentation. So, even at the risk of distorting by over-brevity, let me at least summarize'the faith that most centrally dictated the shape of her interpretation of mission and ministry. ' The God with whom C~therine is in love'is at once "gentle first Truth" and "Love itself." Jesus, God's on'ly-begotten Son, God's Word, is Truth in-carnate, the one Way in love for sinful humanity to find reconciliation with the ~Father. Along this Way--Catherine describes him in her Dialogue as the bridge it is in the Church as in a hostelry.that God provides the food and shelter, the companionship and rest without which we pilgrims would surely faint or fall back long before we would reach our destination. In fact, the head of the Church is "Christ-on-earth." Only he holds~the keys to the wine cellar in which is stored :the blood of Jesus, the sole source of life and salvation. And, for Catherine, there-is nc~ other way to union with God but through the open heart of Jesus. God alone--in himself and in Jesus and, analogously, in the Church--is deserving of unqualified love (senza modo). Everyone and everything else is to be loved only con modo--with love that is qualified and conditioned and limited by its relationship with God. Because of this very strong'sense 6f relativity, issues which may loom large in our considerations often 'get from Catherine what may seem short shrift to us. Some of the difference,"it is true~ is cultural; but that fact should not allow us to miss the more signi.ficant difference that cbhaes from this underlying sense of relativity -- a 'sense that is still as ~valid today as it was in fourteenth-century Tuscany. When we are in love, all things are relative~tothe one we love. With this context firmly in mind we can turn as disciples to Catherine and let her person and her words speak to our own convictions about our mission to ministry in the Church. The Foundation and Principle of Mission and Ministry Basic to ~the who|e question of mission and.ministry-for Catheriiae was the same principle she applied to preaching: that we must practice virtue first, then preach it. Jesus, she writes in the Dialogue, never taught what he had not first lived himself. We are useless to others unless we have within ourselves what we would share with them. She writes of herself in the Prologue to the Dialogue that "she knew that she could be of no service to her neighbors in teaching or example or prayer without first doing herself the service of attain-ing and p~ossessing virtue.''6 "We will never be able to nourish our neighbors," she w'rites to a group of women in Naples, "unless we first feed our own souls with true solid virtues. 186 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/, 2 And we cannot be nourished with virtue unless we cling to the breast of divine chari~ty from which we draw, the milk of divine tenderness."~7 The image is a double one: the bre, ast of divine charity is t0e.open heart of Jesus. In prayer we look into this open heart and see "the secret of the bloo~"~--that God loves us so.madly that his Song's death was not too high a price to pay for_ our love--and seeing ourselves so madly loved, we o in response fall madly in love with God. But prayer itself is imaged by ~Catherine as a mother: it~ is prayer that conceives and gives b!rth to virtue within us, and with.gut prayer the virtue which ministers in love to our neighbors is im-possible . ,. Where, indeed, will we c~tch the fragranc~ of obedlence?~ In ffrayer. Where will we strip ourselves of th~ selfish love that makes us impatient in the face of hurt and other dif-ficulties, and clothe ourselves in divine love, finding our glory in the cross of Christ crucified? In prayer/. Where do we express love and faith and hope and humility? In prayer. In fact, we would not bother to look for what we did not love; but when we do love we always want to,be united with the objec.t of our love--and he_re that object is God.° Where, finally, will we catch the fragrance of coniinence and purity, and a hunger for martyrdom that makes us willing to give our lives for God's honor and the good of sot~ls? Always in th~s gentle mother, prayer . Truly, p~rayer i~ a nio'iher. If'is she who conceives virtues as her children in love for God, and ~ives them birth in love for our neighbors/° There is no ministry, then, without virtue; no~ is there virtue withbut prayer. It is in prayer, that we are sent out, missioned, into action. And once the dynamic has been set in motion by our response ~o God,s initiative, prayer and ministry ~feed;each other: 'prayer drives us out to serve, and our service drives us back into prayer. Indeed, if0both are genuine in themselves, each becomes in.a sense the other: prayer~is a ministry and ministry a prayer. There'ar~ two ways to pray (Catherine writes): The firsi way is that of Continualprayer; that is, ,that constant lioly desire which of itself .prays before God in everything a person does. Indeed, such desire directs all our actions, whether spiritual or temporal, to his honor. That is why it is called continualprayer.'~ Continual prayer, then, is nothing other than holy desire' and the gentle movement of iove.,~ , What fruit do we derive from this sort of prayer? A peaceful quiet within us to which nothing is a stumbling~block: . Nothing wearies or troubles it. Nor does it let us. be ~.Dialogue, I. (All quotations from the Dialogue are taken from the new translation of that work to be publis.hed by Pat~list Press in January, 1980.) See~also Dialogue, 29. Letter 356 .,to thr~e women of Naples. Letter 353, to three women of Naples, 1379. Letter 26, to her niece, Sister Eugenia, a nun in the monastery of'Sf. Agnes at M0t~tepulciah0'. ~ Letter 353. ~, ~ ~ " " Ibid. '~ Letter 22, to Abbot Martino di Pass, ignano of Vallombrosa. Catherine of siena: MiSsion and Ministr.V in the Church / 187 'ideceived when our soul hankers airier our~own room, tO bask there in consolation and peace. It does not even regret having to do something else when we ~,ould prefer to be actually at prayer. No, it extracts from that something else the perfume of humility and the firb of, love for our neighbors. ~ "i'he sec6nd way'is that of vocalprayer, that is, speaking wiih oiie's tong~ae to say the~Of-rice or other oral prayers. This way is designed to bring us to the third way, mental prayer. This is a~:complished when, with I~rudence and humility., we use our minds in vocal prayer--that is, when we pray in such a way that, while we.are speaking with our i~ngue, our h~art is never far from God. Indeed, we should alw~ays try, to set our heart firmly in the love of divine charity." . urging our mmd always to think of, to offer, and t6 receive the i~ pulse of God's love more than-the sound of the.words." It is ume to give honor to God and wear ourselves out for our neighbors: wear ourselves out physically by bearing with everything, a~nd.wear ou_rselve~ out spiritually by offering continual, humble prayer in Ggd's presence with angui~shed longing, with bitter tears and sweat. ' 6 The complementarity of prayer and action, then, is'one of integration, not of mere alternation. Catherine would not be at all at home with the image we have sometimes used, that of a car which needs to return perio~dically to the gas pump for fuel in order to keep running. Her own image of the fountain and the jfig, though she used it in another context, is much more app~'opriate. The fountain is God and his love and truth. "If you take your Jug out of the fountain to dri~k," she writes, "it is soon empty. But if y0o h01d your j~gin the fountain whild you drink, it ~ill~n0t get empty;~ifide~d, it will'always be full." '' In this image, the more we drink from this jug, the more r~om there is f6r it to be filled, and the more i~ is filled, the more we have to drink (or to share). ° What," then, determines" what time shall'be given to bxl~licit praye~, and w~at 'to the ministry of action'?. Precisely ~hat initiative from God which is called mission., Not simply our own inclinatibn,.but the action of the Spirit made kno~'n through oppoit~nit3~, obedience, ~3r dema~nds of lb~;e. Be very.conscientious and persevering in frequenting the holy place of prayer'as,often " .an, d as long as the Holy Spirit offers you the 9pportuni!y. Do not,avoid'it or run a~aYo ~;o from . it ,even if it should cost you your life. Never abandon,~ t,oht .of tenderness or com-passion for your body.~ You must not break away from holy prayer for any reason whatever except obedience or It is'Prayer, .therefore, that~ holds the place of primacy. But¯~ervice is its " Lettei 154, to'Brother Francesco T~baldi of Florence, i3"~8~ t, Letter 353. ~ ~ ~; '~ Letter 154. ~ ~ :, ,6 Letter 296, to Don Giovanni delle Celle, c. 1376. "Dialogue, 64. " Letter 187, to Don Giovanni Sabbatini of Bologna and Don Taddeo de' Malavohi Of Siena, monks of Certosa anti, Be riguardo, c. 1375. '~ Dialogue, 65. 188. /Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 ,/2 , necessary fruit and touchstone. Effective love for others is the expression of true love for God. So God says in the Dialogue: I ask you to love me with the same love which I love you. But for me you cannot do this, for I loved you without being loved. Whatever love you have for me you owe me, so you love me, not gratuitou[ly, but out of duty, while I love you, not out of duty, but grati~itously. So you cani~ot gi~'e me the kind of love i ask of you. This is why I have put you among your neighbors: so thal you can do for-them wha! you cannot do for me--that is, love them without any concern for thanks and without looking for a~ny p[ofit for yourself. And whatever you do foi- them 1 Will consider done for me.2° We cannot, in fact, honestly claim to have even conceived .virtue if we never bring it to birth'for our neighbors. (Again God is speaking.) Virtue, once conceived, must come to birth. Therefore, as soon as the soul has conceived through loving affection,oshe gives bii'ih for her neighbors' sake. And just as she loves m~ in truth, so also she serves her neighbors in truth. Nor could she do otherwise, for love of me and love of neighbor are one and the same thing: since love of neighbor has its source in me, the more the soul loves me, the more she loves her neighbors.2' Catherine not onlY, preached this integration of prayer and virtue and ministry; she lived it more and more deeply as her intimacy with God deep-ened. Her three years 6f alm.ost total silence and solitude were more than merely ~ '°'filling of the fuel tank" for the life of service that was (o begin to blossom at their end. Catherine entered that solitude, one very much centered on the relationship between herself and God, and it was atime of growth fbr her in mystical union with him. But in that solitude was growingalso.the small seedling of another relationship. The ~ulmination of those three years came in a double-edged experience which puzzled Catherine herself. During the night of Carnival in 1368 she had reached a high pitch of inten-sity" in the p~ayer~that had--perhaps incongruously to us in vie~; of her mysticism--been her l~r~occupation for months: prayer foi" th~ gift of faith. Raymond of Capua iells us that she had consistently sensed in i'~sponse to her pleadings the promise voiced in the prophet Hosea: "I will e~pbuse you to myself in, faith.''~ Yet she had never been satisfied that her prayer had been granted. On this night, however, she knew that it had, ih the experience we know as her mystical espousals. Catherine's rapture knew no bounds: she would have been content to rest where she was forever. But just as un-mistakably as the intimacy of faith carrie the mission of faith--in terms of which, frustratingly, on the very heels of rapture, the very Christ who had finally drawn~her to his wedding-chamber began to drive l'ier out of solitude to service. But note that this was not'the end of the prayer of solitude in Catherine's life. Rather she began to learn the very integration of the two, an integration Dialogue, 64. ~' Dialogue, 7. n Ho 2:22. Catherine of Siena: Mission and Ministry in the Church / 189 of wtiich she would later speak so forcefully toothers. Prayer and ministry, love of God and love of neighbor are, Christ tells her, the two feet on which she must walk, the two wings on which she must fi~, 23 Neither. can be complete without the ~ther. And as the circles" of Catherine's involvement widened, her ministry in action intensified her need for prayer in solitude, while her very prayer drove her more and more to con-cern for others. She knew'with the thirst of the psalmist in the parched desert how essential it is to "hold one's jug in the f~untain even as one drinks." And if the call of olSedi+nce afid°lo~,e filled her days to a dizzying pace she would seize the opportunity' of ii~e night to bring it all with her" whole self in quiet before God. As surely as she knew that he was with her in her ministry-- for it was he who,constantly sent her--she knew that she needed time and space to be consciously in his presence in what she calls "the holy place of prayer." The Specifics of Mission and Ministry ~)ut of the dialectice of Catherine's prayer~ an~l action grew the strong specific convictions concerning mission and ministry that dictated her own pat.h :and.her .counsel to' others. She never, even in her Dialogue, attempted a ~systematic presentation of this or any other matt, er. Nor .will 1 attempt to. draw out of her works what could be considered a full "theology of ministry.:' But it is~possible and decidedly worth the effort to pull together in some logical order the bits of. her refle.ction on the question in both the Dialogue and her .letters, and to say something ,again of how she herself lived what she taught. For the implications of any given insight w.ere~for Catherine, very concretely and practically the call of obedience. What; then, has she to tell us?, First of all, and at the basis of any sense of mission, of being sent, is the reality that in his very gifts in us God commissions us to specific ministries. His gifting is,in itself,a call: ¯ - I have distributed [all my gifts] in such a way (he says in the Dialogue) that no one has all of thefia. ~hus I have given you rea~son-- hecessity, in fact to I~ractice mutual charity. For I could~well have supplied each of you with all your needs . But'l wanted to.make you dependent on one another ,so tha~t each of you would be my minister, dispensing the grace~ and gifts you have received~from me. So whether you will it or n~t, you cannot escape the exercise of charity!Z' In another part of the Dialogue the Father becomes even more explicit about'the providence of this interdependence he has built into the economy of creation by the variety of our gifts:°. . In this mortal life so long as y9u are pilgrims, I have bound you with the chain of.charity. Whether you want it or not, you are so bound. If you should break loose by not wanting to live in charity for your neighbors, by force will you still be bound by it. So, that you Raymond of Capua, Legenda Major, ch. 121. Dialogue, 7. 190 / Review for Religiousj Volume 39, 1980 o may practice charity-in action and.in will, I in my provid~ence did not~giveto any one,p_er-son or to each indivi_dually the knowledge for doing ever~y~hing necessary for human life., No, I gav~ something to one, something blse to another, so that each one's need would be a reason to have recourse to~ tti~ other. So thoukh yofi ?hay los('your 'wili for cl~i~:ii'y ° because of your wickedness, you will at least be forced by your o~wn ne'~d'to practice it in action. Thus you see the artisan turn to the worker and th~.workeroto theartisan: each has a need of the other.becaus~ neither.knows how to do what the o~th.e~-.~does. So also the j-0 cleric and rehg~ous' " havek need. of the layperson,.and~ the. layperson. ~r~ ,~ ofo. the religious; neither can get ~long without the other. And so with everything else. Could I not have given everyone everything? Of course. But in my~providence I wanted, to make each of you dependent on the others, so that you would be forced to exercise chanty In action andwl at once." ~ ¯ Catherine hers'~lf had 'a'kind of genius for matching ,her gifts (and .she knew hergifts as well a~ her limitations) with rieeds that wete~beii~g met by no one else. She was deeply sensitive, and she too.k on those cases among the poo( and the sick that called for more care than others were able or willing to give. Sh'~had aqaiercing and uncompromising vision which she shared with reluc-tant listeners as ~vell as with the willing~ what needed saying she ~would say! Whe6. it seemed that' som~ of her followers neededra cl0ister~and,,there was none tliat,matched their r~eed~,-she founded one.~When she~sensedothe gaping, lack ~of holines~ amid thb p~litics of the pope's 'advisers~ she,called °foro.'a "papal counciW of holy persons who would fill the vacuum. Notall of'her:~f-forts met with tangible success; some of her grandest d~eams ~.ame in crashing failure'tlowri on her head~:~ Yet she owned "the mission defined'~by~her:, gift6dness, and~never disowned responsibility for the resu.lts~--:-'~ though sh~ alsb had the ability, so very rare, to let go ofo~rojects that.,~;proved,counter-productive. She knew her own dependence on 6thers a~ Wellas shb knew .that others depended On her. She knew~what it means to be gifted and "missioned. But it is' notS'merely a natural interdependence that~constitutes~ mission: Mission is inseparable from the need of sinful humanity~for redemption, and therefore it demands entry into the redeeming life and passion of Jesus, not only for oneself, but for the,sake of others as well. Those in, m~ss~on const~t, ute more than the Red Cross or thecounty welfare.office,.and this larger perspec-tive (which must be no less than God's own) may put those,in mission in°the paradoxical position of encot~raging themselves and 6tliers in suffering as often as it puts.them in the effort of relieving it. Catherine c~lledit~'~th~ om-passionate'cruelty'and cruel conlpassion of the cross" and "feeding, on souls at. the table ofthe cr0~s." It is one of thoseoarenas where the truth of faithcan "blow" the mind of reason. The Father says in the Dialogue: . . it is by means'of my ser~,ants and their great sufferings thatl would be mei'cifu I to the world and ref6rm my bride [the Church]. ,r. Dialogue, 148. Catherine of Siena: Mission and Ministry in the ~Church '/~191 Truly these last can be called another Christ.crucified, my only-begotten Son, because they haye taken his task upon themselves. He came as a mediator to put an end to war and reconcile humanity to me in peace by suffering even to the shameful death of crucifixion. In the saine way must these b~ocrudfied and'become mediators ~n prayer, in word, in good holy living, setting themselves up as an exam pie to others. The precious stones of,. . virtue shine in their patience as they,be~ar others' sins. These are the hooks with which they catch souls?~ And Catherine writes to her friends and disciples: o You would be deceived if you wanted to feast at the ~tern~l Father's table while avoiding ~'~ feeding ~n souls at the table of the Son. It is, in fact, at this table'that we must eat this food, for it cannot be,had without suffering)' It is time to show whether or not we are lovers of Christ crucified, and whether we find our joy in.this food.28 One of the first indications o'~" this r~ederdptive sensitivify in Catherine sui'- faces at the tihae of her father's death in 1368. The sudden realization that even so good:a~person as her father may still not be fully purified of sinfulness cuts to the heart of her deeply human love for him, and she begs to be allowed to pay in her own suffering the "price" of this final purifi~ation:'~Later, as her real, felt, effective love reaches out to others,, so does thi~ d,esire to enter into their redemption. It becomes truly a hunger that she knows can be satisfied only on the cross. And her joy in being there is for that reason far t6o deep and much more meaningful than the masochism some have attributed to her. It is a fine line for discernment to'draw, ttiis kr~owledge of when suffei'ing (our 6wn or others') is part Of r~demptive providen(e," and when it i~ to be shunned,'c~onquerett, and alleviated.° Ironically, the issue probably~'~eem~ clearest to us at its extreme: "Proclaini the truth and let no fear silence it! 'Be liberal and generous, ready to ~give even your.life if necessary." Thus she wrote to Raymond of Capua,~9 and .the message probably does not strike us all that discordantly. There is no doubt that Chtherine longed to be allowed to enterjust 'that effectively into Christ's redeeming deatti. But is it one Of those face(s of t;eing madly in love with God that we perhaps take so for granted that we do not really sense its place in our own life and missibn'?. Are we not also called to live (and die) redemptively? But whatever the concrete circumstances oLthat redemptive.living and dy-ing may~be for each of us, Catherine reminds us again and again that Christian ministry demands integrity and courage. Cast from you any tenderness for yourself and any slavish fear. The dear Church has no need for that sort of person; she needs strong people who are merciless"when it comes to themselves and compassionate when it comes to her.'° Dialogue, 146. Letter 271, to Alessa Saracini, 1378. Letter 330, late 1378 or early 1379. Letter 373, to Raymond of Capua, February,25, 1380. Letter 296. 199 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 The others' are not action people but wind people who whirl about like leaves, without any consistency or stability. There is not room for shame or embarrassment in regard to our Christian-ity, nor ~for fear of openly owning Christ. We are reminded of Catherine's own natural sensitivity, her embarrassment through much of her life whenever her holiness was "found out," though she eventually was able to share so completely and seemingly unself-consciously. The imagery she uses in writing of this need to be proud to be known as a disciple of Christ is strikingly ' reminiscent of that incident just before she entered the order when the urge to throw~ it all off was so strong that she was actually tempted to put on.her sister-in- law's "aft~er-the-wedding";.dress and parade around Siena in it. Once she had mastered the temptation, she tells us, Mary presented her with the wedd, ing dress that was to be hers, a~ garment from the very heart of Jesus. Years later she writes to her disciple, Gabriele di Davino Piccolomini: You need the armor-which is true charity, and over this armor the scarlet cloak of the blood of Christ crucified . The blood of Christ crucified needs to be revealed, not. hid-den. You must g~ve witness to it before everyone by your good and holy actions, and when necessary by yo.u.r words. You must not be like those fools who are ashamed to re-mind the world of Christ crucified and to testify openly that they are his servants. They are not willing to put on this scarlet cloak, the blood of Christ crucified." Ii isl in fact, not a burden, but our glory to be the ministers of Christ: Those we serve are our helpers, and even our masters insofar as it is their need that comman'ds us. °And even While we are a channel of Ctirist's redemptive love~to them, it is_the~ who in turn me~iiate our way to redemption and salva-tioh. Tfius Catherine writes to Cardinal Pietro Corsini: Be.magnanimous and generous in your charity toward your neighbors, both spiritually and materially. Remember that the hands of the poor are there to help you, as minister of the, blood, in carrying and offering divine grace.The blood of Christ crucifi.ed will teach you to distribute your possessions to the poor with the same generosity he has shown and continues to show to you. He will°make you consider the poor .and'~ those who find themselves in need as your masters." And to Monna Lodovica di Granello: You who have temporal possessions; do your duty by giving to the poor whatever yo~u can give Make yourselyes steward§ of your~wealth to the poor, for the poor are the hands that will grant us entrance to eternal life because of the loving charity with which we have given them alms." The Ministry of Social Justice ~ , Though Catherine herself never held a position of formal authority or had Letter 256, to M. Niccolo, a Tuscan official, after 1376. Letter 128, Gabriele was a layman, not a preacher. Letter 177, 1376. ~" Letter 304, 1378. Catherine of Siena: Mission and Ministry in the Church / 193 more than the most paltry alms to give in her own name, the ministry we today specifically call social justice was very much her concern, and we who sense a special call to this ministry would do well to look to her not only for inspira-tion but also for the criteria on which she based her stands. We have already seen how, in Catherine's view, the divine economy in-cludes the distribution--not always equal or even equitable in our sight--of goods and talents. She insists that there is also a positive providence in poverty and ill fortune, for her sights are always fixed beyond the limits of here and now and the standards of mere reason. Yet she is just as insistent when it comes to the obligations of stewardship imposed by the possession of wealth and power (it is God himself who speaks): 1 have shown you my generosity, goodness, and providence toward people. But they let themselves be guided by their own darksome weakness. Your bodily members put you to shame, because they all together practice charity, while you do not. Thus, when the head is aching, the hand he|ps it. And if the finger, that tiniest of members, hurts, the head does not snub it because it is greater and more noble than all the other parts of the body. No, it comes to its aid with hearing and sight and speech and everything it has. And so with all the other members. But those who are proud do not behave that way. They see a poor person, one of their members, sick and in need, and do not help. They refuse to give not only of their possessions but even a single word. Indeed, they reproachfully and scornfully turn away. They have plenty of wealth, but they leave the poor to starve. They do not see that their wretched cruelty throws filth into my face, and that their filth reaches down even to the depths of hell. I provide for the poor, and for their poverty they will be given the greatest of riches. But the others, ~nless they change their ways, will be severely reproached by my Truth as is said in the holy Gospel: "l was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat; I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink; I was naked and you did not clothe me, in prison and you did not visit me." And at that last moment it will do them no good to excuse themselves ¯ by saying, "! never saw you, for if I had I would have done it." The wretches know well enough--and my Truth ~aid that whatever is done to his poo~ is done to him?~ Injustice is a direct assault against God. It could hardly be stated more clearly: ".their wretched cruelty throws filth into my face"! Still, Catherine's ultimate judgments and action where poverty and wealth, good fortune and ill are concerned always come back to that most basic of prin-ciples: only God is unqualified Truth and Love. Nothing of human life is un-qualified or unconditioned except our love for him. Of everything and everyone but God we must discern the "ifs, ands, and buts" before making our decisions. This is where Catherine,s own vision often made her seem the naive fool in the face of political c0mplexities -- but that is the risk integrity runs. The force of the simple truth may seem sometimes to crumple under the weight of reality as reason sees it, but if we are true to the vision of truth (and willing to admit when we have not seen clearly or fully) we still stand as tall Dialogue, 148. 194 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 and. whole as did Catherine ultimately--though the psychological burden of it all had literally done her in physically. Reform was badly needed in Catherine's day. She not only admitted that but proclaimed it to the most sensitive of ears! But she insisted that all reform must begin from within. She loved the Church as few have loved it, yet she criticized and castigated it as few have dared. If God was to show mercy to the world, the world must be reformed. But the world would be reformed only if the Church were reformed. And the Church would be reformed only if its leaders were reformed. And Catherine would be of no use to any of it so long as she held on to her own sinfulness. ;. Like Catherine, we are called not simply to preach--much less to con-demn- but to take the sins of others on ourselves. Her experience, toward the end of her life, of so feeling the weight of the ship of the Church on top of her that she could neither get up nor be lifted up from the floor of St. Peter's was more than figurative. Whereas earlier she had pleaded for forgiveness for others and even offered to suffer for their sins, in her last years she genuinely owned responsibility for those sins and considered herself truly (why would we prefer to see it as pious but exaggerated humility?) the cause of every evil in the world. Where would our burning issues be today if we could honestly own our sinful responsibility for them? Not that Catherine did not preach to others about justice. Her letters are full of very concrete, practical exhortations. To Ristoro di Pietro Canigiani, a Florentine lawyer: You may, in good conscience, seek and demand what is yours in ways that are just, for no one is obliged to let go of what is justly one's own. Anyone who is willing could certainly do the more perfect thing, but it is not an obligation unless one wants to do it of one's own free choice. But there is one thing I want to add: when any poor folk come to you (assuming they are clearly in the right) who have no one to defend them because they cannot pay, if you would work for them out of affectionate love, you would give very great honor to God?~ And to Andreasso Cavalcabuoi while he was Senator in Siena: We often see certain people in government having justice done only where poor are con-cerned-- justice which frequently is really and truly injustice--but they do not have justice done where the great and powerful are concerned.~' Further examples could be multiplied, but always the principles are the same. And always we must begin by doing justice to ourselves--the justice of repentance and virtue--and by reaching out first in response to God's call in the needs of those who are brought to touch our lives most nearly.38 God will see to the widening of the circle, probably much more intensely than we thought we had bargained for! Letter 258, 1378-79. ~' Letter 338, 1379. ~ Dialogue, 6. Catherine of Siena: Mission and Ministry in the Church / 195 The Ministry of Women in the Church We have not yet even touched specifically on the ministry of women in the Church. Yet much of what Catherine has to say and demonstrate of womanly ministry within the Church has in principle been related. She who did and said all we have spoken of is a woman. She did not speak, it is true, of the ordination of women: her culture would not have let that even be an issue. Still she does speak of the ministry of all of us(and the objects and modes of her own ministry were remarkable for a woman of her century and social class. It would be fascinating, in fact, to analyze the parallelism that seems to exist between her reflections on priestly min, i.stry and what she has to say of her own ministry! But easy as it is to point to Catherine as a woman who dared to preach to popes and princes, let us never forget that that preaching as well as her every other service rose out of her encounter with God in prayer. If we do nearly as well as she in our integrity on that score, we need have no further concern about the form or effectiveness of our ministry. We will often be frustrated as she was. We will often be misunderstood and criticized as she was. We may die in the effort as she did. But like her we will come out whole, and the Church ¯ will be nourished on our sweat, blood, and tears. And those we have been privileged to touch in our service will remember, as they did of Catherine, that we could smile through it all! Currents in Spirituality The Past Decade George Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenner is presently engaged in a national spiritual ministryfor priests, religious and lay people, and works part-time in campus ministry at the University of Scranton, especially with the faculty of the university. His address: Scranton University; Scranton, PA 18510. In a stream there are always different levels of flow. An eddy or a swirl, which~i:loes not run so deep as the current, can either spin off and die on the shore or it can get caught up and become part of the deeper current of the stream. It is fascinating and instructive'to watch this process. The last decade has brought an enormous growth in interest and writing about spirituality. This article, focusing on some present issues and concerns of spirituality in this country, will be describing a variety of swirls, eddies, cur-rents and tides within the stream of contemporary spirituality. Generally, the article does not explicitly distinguish deeper currents from surface motions, but leaves this distinction to the reflection and judgment of the reader. The aim here is simply to list and briefly describe, without any prioritizing, some concerns within contemporary spirituality.' In doing this, I will be consulting both my own experience and the fruits of some conversation with experienced people across the country, At times, I will inject an issue which may not seem of much interest today, but which I ' For anotlier format and a more extensive treatment of individual thematic trends in spirituality, consult the series of articles.of Matthew Fox, O.P. in Spirituality Today beginning in the March, ! 978 issue. Currents in Spirituality: The Past Decade personally feel deserves attention. I am aware, of course, that the degree of in-terest or importance for various concerns will vary according to different geographical sections of the country. But any necessary local nuance is left to the reader. The survey nature of this article, besides severely limiting development of the various concerns expressed, also prevents any resolution of them. Sometimes, however, it is the present state of the matter itself which allows only a statement of the question and which requires that any resolution await further clarity in the Spirit. Part I of the article presents issues that affect \everybody in the Church. Part II treats some matters that touch specific groups: religious, bishops and diocesan priests, lay people. ~ Part i: Issues Affecting Everyone 1. Distinction between Monastic and Apostolically Active Spiritualities. Within the one fundamental Christian spirituality there have always been various spiritualities rooted in different orientations to the one God. Especial-ly since Vatican II, a most helpful clarification has stressed the distinction between monastic and apostolically active spiritualities. Generally speaking, the monastic experience of God depends upon some physical withdrawal from the world and upon as full an involvement as possible in the liturgy both of the Eucharist and of the Hours, which provides an essential regularity and a rhythm that will determine both the type of community support and the external activity appropriate to this spirituality. An apostolically active ex-perience of God, while deeplylocated :in the activity of the world, requires the difficult combination of an external mobility with dependable spiritual habits, so that one may serve wherever the need for God is greatest. Obviously, this ts pirituality will provide a different community support, together with both a different presence and a more extensive involvement in the world. To fail to understand which of the two basic orientations one is called to can cause personal frustration and apostolic ineffectiveness. Disregard of this clarification on the part of the diocesan priest, the religious or the lay person, whether in their training or in the living out of their vocation, may well pro-duce unrealistic expectations and. ineffective service. Taking seriously the dif-ference in the two approaches need not imply any superiority of the one over the other. Rather it may help the Church to be more present in the world ac-cording to its own fullness and to manifest God's loving designs across the whole spectrum of the human family. 2. Renewed Monasticism. After Vatican II there was much questioning and experimentation in reference to the elements of the monastic way of life: enclosure, Liturgy of the Hours, community, work, silence, travel, and external apostolic involvement. 198 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 For a while, the very validity of the monastic life seemed at issue. Now, with its essential validity profoundly reaffirmed, many experiments are being evaluated. This'process of evaluation is not concluded but, together with a deep sense that the monastic ideal has been enriched by much of this .ex-perimentation, there is a concern as to whether some of the experiments were not motivated by trying too much to imitate the active life and whether they have not therefore risked: weakening the power of the monastic ideal for our age. It will always be a difficult matter to know how, without distorting or superficializing the monastic ideal, its powerful experience of God may be brought into contact with the city oLman. 3. An Integrated, Functional Spirituality for Active Apostles: Excessive fatigue, even to the length of "burnout,." at times seems almost synonymous with active apostolic work today. Countless demands from so many angles have over-extended and excessively complicated the lives of com-petent and conscientious men and women. They know the need for formal prayer and a profound, spiritual orientation. And yet there just isn't time for eve.rything. As a result there is not nearly enough formal, personal prayer on the part of many active apostles. And this has serious repercussions, both on the apostles themselves and on all the work they do. And so the search goes on for some functional spirituality that will work .for busy apostolic men and women by giving a sense of integration and unity to their lives. It is instructive that in the past ten years interest has moved from the topic of discernment of spirits to that of apostolic spirituality. To my mind, the con-tent is pretty much the same. But the orientation is very different. Discern-ment of spirits involves chiefly an interpretative sorting out in faith of inner, affective experiences, so that, through dealing properly with the experiences, one can find and be with God in every situation and moment of life. But this process runs ~he risk of generating a short-sighted interiority and a spirituality without adequate orientation to apostolic service. Apostolically active spirituality, it would seem, should involve the same decisive dealing in faith with inner, affective experiences, but now with a much increased realization that this faith-process within the person gives a special quality of integrated, peaceful presence in the midst of the most challenging, active situations--and that this presence, eloquent in its thrust toward God in itself, also leads to ac- .~tions which further his kingdom in the world. Dealing in faith with the daily consolations and desolations of life can integrate and unify our whole affec-tivity and person. And this faith-process certainly does not excuse the active apostle from a program of regular, formal prayer. Rather it reveals the need to discover the unique style of serious, formal prayer appropriate for each in-dividual. Such prayer will always be an essential means to that quality of human presence which reveals a loving Father in Jesus as the Beloved of our hearts and which can find and serve Him in everything. In this sense, current interest in apostolic spirituality seems very healthy Currents in Spirituality: The Past Decade / 199 and very likely to lead to an apostolic presence that is increasingly prayerful and where activity is therefore not seen as weakening the contemplative presence of prayer, but as a continuation of that contemplative presence beyond the limits of formal prayer. This integrated, apostolic presence will not decrease the demands made on us, but it can prevent the sense of being overly distracted and torn between the dichotomy of formal prayer and apostolic activity. This integrated spirituality can also lessen that sense of dualism against which we are so often warned today. 4. Renouncing the World to Serve It for God. ~, It is not easy for us to see the world from God's perspective and to serve its t needs in the light of his dream of justice. Finally, this can be done only by one who comes from an experience of God, an experience in God, back to the world. Though we are usually first led to know and love God, of course, in and through his creation, there must and does come, for those whose ex-perience of God matures, a moment of experiencing Him beyond this world's ~- wisdom and potentiality-- a moment of experiencing God as not simply equal to, but as far beyond, all the beauty and wisdom of this world. This moment of transcendence, of finding complete satisfaction and joy in a loving God himself, roots our identity primarily in God and gives his love a priority over any created reality. It is an experience that re-announces us before God, before ourselves and before the world as a people of God, a people in God. In this way our "renunciation," in the sense of a re-announcement of the world for God, puts the world in its true perspective, as seen in and from God.z Rather than lessening our interest in th~ world, this view dramatically in-creases our zeal to further God's Kingdom in the wo~:id and so bring it to its full potential. But serving the needs of our world properly, as part of our love of God, demands this kind of worldly renouncement. There are issues of some importance for ac, tive apostles today that relate to this renunciation of the world. Can this experience of renunication happen without some physical withdrawal from the worl~d? And since the renuncia-tion referred to here is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, what meaias will help active people to keep it alive and growing as a personal attitude? With much ~to leSs physical detachment from the world in most seminaries and novitiates (and much of this is good and in accord with the appropriately non-monastic raining of active apostles), how can we be assured that this necessary attitude f renunciation is taking permanent root in the apostle's consciousness? How do active apostles prevent their worldly renunciation either from turning into a withdrawal from the world which, while suitable for monks, is most un- See Karl Rahner, S.J., Theological Investigations, vol 3, The Theology of the Spiritual Life, tr. Karl-H and Boniface Kruger, "The Ignatian Mysticism of Joy in the World" (Baltimore: ~, H elicon, 1967), pp. 227-293. What Rahner describes as thefugasaeculi for a Jesuit is fundamental to any mature Christian life with and in God. 200 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 suitable for them, or, even worse, from turning into an unChristian lack of concern for the world? The American Church is not finished with these ques-tions. We need more discussion, and better answers. For without this attitude of worldly renunciation, we may have active apostles busy doing many good things, but nov per~ceiving the world's full potential for beauty and goodness and not furthering the reality of a Father's Kingdom that is revealed chiefly in a dead Son's Resurrection. 5. Relationship of Spirituality and Morality. For too many people morality has been corrupted by an overly narrow, moralistic and rationalistic stress. This moralism, with its rationalistically detailed stress on casuistry, tends to cut'healthy morality off from its roots in the spirituality of God's revelation. It has caused much unhealthy fear, guilt and introspection. The "holy person" was described as one who avoided a clearly delineated list of mortal and venial sins. And, too often, this avoidance of sins seemed more a matter of stubbornly pelagian will power than a matter of prayerfully humble dependence on God's. grace. But today, it seems one could be taking means" for serious growth in prayer, faith and a spiritual life, and yet this spiritual seriousness need not ex-press itself in quite practical matters like the morality of public, social affairs or of a chaste sexual life. At times, neither certain social injustices nor something like masturbation is seen as unholy, thereby affecting one's love relationship with God. The intertwined strands of spirituality and morality are here become so unraveled that holy, prayerful Christian people may not be ex-pected to come to similar moral conclusions on various practical issues. A fuller view of both morality and spirituality, ho~vever, rather finds them mutually inclusive and affirming of one another, mutually accountable, while at the same time leaving to each its own, appropriately specific, stress. To view some practical matter spiritually is to judge its appropriatenes~ against the faith-ideal of a trust in God's loving power wonderfully filling our own weakness whenever it is exposed in self-emptying surrender. In this way cer-tain attitudes, dispositions and actions are unholy and unspiritual because they violate this trust in God's love. Only one's spiritual growth in union with God will provide this trust in the practical details of daily living. Much is being done these days in moral theology to construct a modern .version of full, healthy Christian morality and a spirituality as integral to each other. A very interesting issue in this new approach in moral theology is the role in moral decision-making which prayerful discernment of spirits plays in providing that moral knowledge whereby a holy person can know God's love in a concrete situation. 6. Sin ~ Forgiveness-- Sacrament of Reconciliation. Related to the previous consideration of spirituality and morality is another issue, that of our personal experience as sinners in the human recep- Currents in Spirituality: The Past Decade / 201 tion of God's vivifying forgiveness in and through the sacrament of recon-ciliation. Although there are unhealthy dualisms which de.ny integral human living and which should therefore be avoided, the dualism of a person saved in Jesus, but still with much affective evidence of sinfulness cannot be avoided. This dualism is the very setting for the Christian adventure of sons and daughters still gradually coming into their own. The seven capital sins, alive in our affective consciousness as dispositions, inclinations and impulses, provide us with our own version of the pauline divided heart? But we.have an in-destructible hope of ever more healing and wholeness in the crucified Son's discovery of his Father's blessing of resurrection. Continual conversion, so central to the Christian life, happens in the pain-fully purifying humiliation of a double acknowledgement: my personal sin-fulness, and the faithful love of the Trinity for me in the Son's Calvary experience, And this brings in turn a double awareness: we are never nearly so good as we try to make ourselves out to be; but we are far more loved in the Trinity's forgiveness than we could ever imagine. This process of personal assimilation of God's forgiveness is neither instantaneous nor superficial. The inner humiliation of an unqualified admission of personal sinfulness before our beloved Father in his crucified Son is something that we instinctively try to avoid. In this experience, a careful discernment of what is spiritually good for each person is needed.' Despite the reform of the rite of the sacrament of reconciliation I wonder whether people are being helped to deepen their experience of this growth to self-identity through forgiveness. The old superstructure surrounding the in-stitution of frequent confession has broken down--as it had to. Reconcilia-tion prayer-services have restored the communal dimension of sinfulness and forgiveness within the community of the Church, and a whole new format has been developed for the individual reception of the sacrament of reconcilia-tion. But there are ways in which a communal experience of the sacrament, without a carefully~ personal and individual experience, can superficialize or short-circuit the human process of receiving.God's forgiveness. As we grow to a more healthy and loving sense of ourselves, we can learn to find the in-dividual experience of the sacrament a helpful means of growth to the maturi-ty of humble trust in the fidelity of the Trinity's forgiving love always available in our weakness. 7. Faith and Justice. After the topic of prayer, this seems the theme most treated in today's spiritual writing. Many persons are much more sensitive today to the systemic network of social sin that is rooted in the individual sinfulness of human Rm 7:14-25. See my article, "Forgiveness," Sisters Today, Dec. 1973, pp. 185-92. 202 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 hearts--that are radically social in nature. But we have a long way to go in developing a sensitivity to social sin and a social morality. And the insight that justice, in a sense much fuller than simply its social-political meaning, is in-tegral to faith badly needs to grow in the Church. Opportunities for such growth are being very well served by current studies in scripture~ and in Christology.6 Further study and reflection, however, is neede~l to recognize more precisely the sense of justice that is so centrally related to Christian faith-- the full paschal justice of God, motivated and revealed in us through a refined and decisive faith. It is the zealous faith of a great love of God that urges on us a passionate concern and practical involvement for the justice of God's Kingdom. For we are not urged on simply by a social theory about the unity of the human family, or about communal ownership of our earth's resources, or about the inherent evil of war. The fundamental and difficult question of how Christianity relates to various political ideologies--and to ideology, as such--arises here. In South America the question of the possibility of a Chris-tian marxism is very alive, whereas in this country there is a serious question-ing of the assumptions of capitalism. These are complicated questions about specific situations and activities. But we must remember that zeal for the justice of God's Kingdom can never be limited simply to the matter of a specific kind of activity that one is involved in. Rather, and with more far ranging, quite practical effect, it must grow to a vision that pervades and in-fluences everything we do. A few other aspects of this issue deserve listing. The tendency to an ex-cessively introspect, privatized spirituality needs the challenge of that zeal for justice which validates a person's faith.7 We must learn how to relate our zeal for justice to our contemplation. For active apostles in the heat of unjust, op-pressive situations, it is never easy to believe in the grace that could convert understandable angry feelings into the appropriate expression of tenderness and compassion. Much more than a matter of a given temperament, we must see tenderness and compassion not as unbecoming to either a man or a woman in certain situations, but as virtues contemplatively rooted by grace in a per-son's affectivity and will. Finally, many of us need new experiences to help us feel much more passionately the tangled questions this issue raises~ before we can even know the question, much less the answers. ~ See John R. Donahue, S.J., "Biblical Perspectives on Justice" in The Faith That Does Justice, ed. John C~ Haughey, S.J. (New York: Paulist, 1977), pp. 68-112 and Jose" Porfirio Miranda, Marx and the Bible, tr. John Eagleson (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1974), 338 pp. ~ J~irgen Moltmann, The Crucified God (New York: Harper & Row, 1974), 346 pp.; John Sobrino, S J, Christology At the Crossroads, tr. John Drury Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1978), 432 pp.; Leonardo Boll, Jesus Christ Liberator (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis, 1978). 7 cf. Richard A. Blake, S.J., "'As the Father Has Sent Me'," America, Aug 25, 1979, pp. 66-69 and William J. Byron, S J, "Privatization--A Contemporary Challenge to lgnatian Spirituality," Chicago Studies, vol. 14, No. 3, Fall, 1975, pp. 241-251. Currents in Spirituality: The Past Decade / 20:3 8. Role of Women in the World and the Church. Another major concern in spirituality today is the role of woman. The issue, understandably en6ugh, is often so fraught with crusading passion and angry feelings that, as male and therefore one who surely does not feel enough the seriousness of the issue, one almost fears to say anything at all. Against a backdrop of past and present prejudice, the lea'dership role of woman in the Church slowly increases. But there is a long way to go. Attitude, rather more than qanguage, seems nearer the heart of the matter--and yet linguistic care both expresses and shapes our attitude. And the attitude of many leaders and other people in the Church must profoundly change before women will exercise a suitably influential role and make their unique contribu-tion (something any exaggei'ated uniformity and equality, of course, will not allow). In general, there seem to be three stages to this concern. First is an awareness of the fact injustice, however it is explained. This is often followed by a period of intense reaction, which is quite understandable; whether ap-parently exaggerated or not. Finally, a stage of peaceful service in the Church is often reached, as one doeg what is possible to correct the injustice. It is a process similar to Kubler-Ross's stages8 arid has been gone through by others when facing the deadly situation of unjust discrimination.~ Women's ordination to the priesthood is, of course, still debated. For many, however, it does not seem to be the heart of the issue at the present time. Much will continue to be accomplished without changing the present policy on women's ordination to the ministerial priesth6od. This does not deny-that there are painful situations, which can be paschally productive for all, in which women actually minister a "sacramentally" salvific experience without the acknowledged ministerial priestly capacity to formally celebrate the experience in the Church. A good example of this is the woman director of a retreat who cannot administer the sacrament of reconciliation after sharing a retreatant's graced experience of God's forgiveness. Many would feel--and many would not m that this is still an open question, about which the Church seems not to have enough light in the Spirit to know whether a change is called for or not. In the meantime, we all need to grow in a sensitivity to correct past in-jostice in our own relationships, to beg for light in the Spirit regarding what is the right growth in this issue for the future, and to pray for the humility and the urgent patience of Jesus in his passion to live and serve generously in the present situation. 9. Spirituafity and Psychology. Because spitituality involve~ the total human person in relationship to ~ Elisabeth K~Jbler-Ross, On Death and Dying (New York: Macmillan, 1969), 260 pp. 904 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980 / 2 God's saving love, it can be related to every area of human behavior. It is I~ especially appropriate and valuable to relate spirituality to psychology, and, over the past decade or more, interest in this relationship has 'increased enor-mously. As an overly rationalistic view of spirituality subsides, we investigate much more the role of the non-rational dimensions of our person in spiritual growth. Spirituality can be naive, and destructive too, when it flies in the face of healthy psycholggy. But spirituality loses its salvific power for the human person, and becomes even demonic, when it capitulates completely to psychology. A delicate balance is called for in this relationship--something not easily arrived at, or easily preserved. In turning to s'ome specific aspects of this general issue, it is obvious that much greater~ stress is now being placed on communicationskills, on affectivi-ty, on the role of the body, and on consciousness-altering techniques--all of which can enrich our prayer and further sensitize us to the many ways God's word an~d love come to us. The practice of spiritual direction often legitimb.tely ,~. overlaps with a type of psychological counseling. But the ultimate aim of ~ facili

Issue 38.4 of the Review for Religious, 1979. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration with faculty members of the Department of Theology of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Robin 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. © 1979 By REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A.: $8.00 a year; $15.00 for two years. Other countries: $9.00 a year, $17.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS~ P.O. BOX 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 5.5802. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor July, 1979 Volume 38 Number 4 Correspoudence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 4.28; 3601 LindeH Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 19131. "Out of print" issues and articles not re-issued as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 North Zeeb Road; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Journey Into Ancestral Fear Mary Grant, L.S.A. Sister Mary's work in strife-torn Belfast has influenced much of her writing. Last year, Our Sunday Visitor published "'Yes in Belfast" under the title, "Yes Lord," which has proven to be a popular source of meditations for many in the United States. She is also involved in Christian Life Communities. Our correspondence address is through Wilbert Forker; 2 Bristow Park; Upper Malone Rd.; Belfast 9; Ireland. Walking up The Falls, reaching out in my heart to the whole city . one with the countless people who have trod this ground through many centuries . Gathering perceptions: sounds, stir-rings of life, the signs ofdeeperlife. Opening up to the signs of death, decay: the burnt-out chimney, the gaping walls--another life, an-other force . The new trees planted: that they would represent Life--not just trees planted on the green of the dead . Gathering all into a unity, integrating all: "Listen to the cry of Your People, Lord! My heart cries their cry--the cry of a thousand years is gathered into Your Presence. When I came to live in this city first, my immediate reaction to hesitant queries was, "Of Course I'm not afraid!" Then one night I dropped a friend in East Belfast, a part of the city I' wasn't familiar with. I missed a turn and found myself lost. Every tiny street was blocked at the end; every time I turned, my headlights picked up "King Billy" on the walls--and slogans! It seemed.every door opened to see who was in the strange tar: I was seized With nameless terror. I could not get out and ask my way. I felt threatened, trapped, alone! 481 4B2 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 In that night I realized how the fears of our environment had entered into me, despite myself. I understood the fears of those who walked alone at night, defenseless. I understood the fear of many people who had not left their district for years, never entered the "unknown" behind the barriers. Some children have never seen behind the barriers that their parents have erected. How do we learn to break through these fears? How do we become revitalized from the paralysis which hampers us? It is easy to quote. "Per-fect love casts out fear" (IJn 4)! But the truth is that we are a covenant people who have been unfaithful to that spirit of love and community by which all men were supposed to recognize the disciples of the Lord. I believe we have first of all calmly to acknowledge that fact, without blame or judgment on either side. And, equally calmly, we have to go about creating bonds of community. In these last few years we have talked much of justice. Our chief work of justice, though, involves our relationship to this covenant---our relationship among ourselves. What Are the Causes of Oppression Around Us? Reflecting on that night, on the grotesque forms of the unknown, I came to see that fear wears many guises. If we ponder on the question, What are the real causes of oppression around us?, immediately there come the replies: "British domination," Loyalist selfishness," "Social apathy," "I.R.A. Terrorism," "Unemployment," "Subhuman housing," and so forth. These are the likely response of a great number of people, depending on which side of the barriers they stand. ' ~ I'm beginning to be more convinced that the~ real ~answer is our-selves--- our memories, our inability to forgive, to be Christlike; to know what to do and how to be as a Christian in the face of injusticei oppression. Our reaction to oppression has been very different fr6m that of the'early Christians. We look back on our Irish history as a people--checkered, erratic: like many anation. But as Christians; how have we fac(d~it? (I mean aH who call themselveS Christian.) We have retaliated with violence, crude-ness, injustice, in just as bitter a way. Some of us say: "We have not thrown bombs! We don't believe that vio-lence is the answer." But have our hearts changed from republicanism or loyalism to a truly Christian approach to life? These labels really stand for all those people who wish to maintain their status quo, even at the cost of the lives of thej.r brothers and sisters. The death of hope is a high cost to pay for a moment's security behind artificial barriers. You ~Will Find in People What You Expect to Find . ~ Why is the change so difficult to'accomplish? Why-are we still talking about it, rather than simply living in love? I wonder, have we really listened to what the violence is saying? I think it is only the dreadful symptom of Journey into Ancestral Fetir / what is happening to the heart of our people. I hear it as a'scream for help, the screaming of the voiceless. I see it not as someihing we can meet head-on, but amid a persistent reaching out in understanding love of peo-ple's' real needs. I'm convinced of the necessity to get at the cat]se. If not, we'll become submerged ifi the symptoms which will get wors~ and worse no matter how we cover them up. Such encounters with our ancestral depths make it ciear to me that one of the deep-seated causes is the colonizer/colonized mentalities from which springs the. dividing wall of fear, mistrust, suspicion. The ancestral wounds have not healed. A change of mentality.does not happen overnight. It is the growth of a long searching, a patient understanding and a persevering love. Unless we have the cpurage to risk the leap of faith'towards our brother, whoever he is, (and I'm not talking simply about Loyalist and Republican), we cannot hope to begin this change of mentality. And we all need it. ! need first of all to learn to live with myself. I have to' learn to live with my brothers,~my neighbors. Then I can open out to.the wider ~zommunity! The reasons which move people to suc.h positioris are mainly historical. But to grow as a people, to be Christian, we have to reach out across these historical, cultural, spiritual barriers and create a climate of acceptance and understanding of each other. And it musi. be two-way: I must address tile barriers of fear. mistrust, hatred, pride, prejudice within me--overcome them in myself first, and then move outwards. But how many of us have learned to live with ourselves? How many of us have integrated within ourselves the various strands of our ancestry? If I take even the first tentative steps in this process of integration, of growth, I discover that there are no ready-made answers in the movement outwards again towards my brothers. I can only share what I have dis-covered in my attempt to follow Christ. ! discover that I learn all the time, from the people I move among. Yes, God is still speaking today. We need to let him change us! ; His peace will not be found in mass meetings for peace, but in changed lives. While that is true, it is also true that many of the mass meetings for peace do spring from the changed lives of thousands of people, a change which has been taking place ~quietly over the last few years. It seems a change of climate has been growing--a springtime. However, unless it springs from areal change of heart it will die do~wn and get nowhere. I'd fear to think of peace as simply the absence of violence among us. When we experience a comparative lull, as recently we did, how do we read it? Is the lull a nursing of our wounds, a hardening of attitudes? Or is it a time of healing? We have had many violent episodes in the past which eventually died down. But our hearts didn't change. Unless this change of attitude prompts'us to really seek out our brother, to understand him, as he is and not to try to change him, then it is but a caricature of Christianity--you will find in your brother only what you bring, what you are. 41~4 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 /4 Becoming iMore Fully Human The trouble with most of us is that we haven't fully explored who we are. We transfer to our brother a whole lot of that deep subconscious which we haven't faced in ourselves. What is growth, integration, but a process of becoming more truly the person I am not some dream, or ideal, but truly myself. It is not easy to live with a known self, no matter how many angles, or how many depths of light and darkness that self holds. Within the context of what it means to be Christian, I see this growth as a process of Incarnation. Very often we are so close to all that is happening in this .process that we cannot see clearly at all what is .happening while it is happ6ning. Occa-sionally we have to stand back and look from a different viewpoint. Then whole new worlds of meaning light up our horizon. Through a brief en-counter w, ith the East, I myself had some such ~experience. When our separate worlds met (first, second, third), in my being lifted out of my own life experience of p.overty, need, struggle, into a totally "different" world, I experienced "living through Incarnation," not simply looking to it for meaning. I went carrying the burden of this seemingly impossible situation in our country. Would anything the East could teach thl:ow light on that? The situation of other nations was just as appalling. Where might hope be found? I felt saddened by the many who know only a hopeless resignation, and more saddened by those who channel their despair into reckless violence. The presence of Christ assured me that this was only part of the picture, but I had not had the reference ofmy o~vn experience to work on. I had not seen, touched, tasted, so I did not know--I hung on 'to belief. I felt stifled by the polarization of parts of my home-city into ghetto areas which prevents the natural giving and taking in which reaching oi)t and sharing would promote reconciliation. I felt frustrated by the third force which goads each side against the other rather thanwork for peace; The "ancestral fears" of our environment had eaten into us so deeply that I did not recognize them in myself. Yet, in the midst of this atmosphere of defeat, His hope rose up and beckoned more gtrongly, buoying me up. In our sheer need I saw Him at work in broken lives--healing, restoring. But there were so many ques-tions. So much I needed to'learn. In my being lifted out of my own life-exp+ rience of poverty, need, struggle, into a totally "different" world, I felt I lived through this "God becoming man" again. I was not outside, looking on. I became man--human. If I might look for a key word to describe this experience of Incarnation, it might be sharing. Too many have gone from the West to the East to give--to satisfy a nagging sense that "we must do something." We, though, in approaching our hosts with empty, open hearts, found ourselves en-riched beyond measure: reverence for the other; stillness, waiting. Entering into another's reality means going outside the self. Journey into Ancestral Fear Sharing, Not Distributing If we have not gone outside of self, outside "our" great world, we will remain on the level of doing. We will distribute from our bag of tricks and wonder.why, one day, it runs empty and we haven't that -powerful" feeling any more. No, to share speaks of equality. Sharing never makes others dependent, never prevents growth, never closes the door to a return. What else is sharing, but the life of the Trinity of love? Christ prayed that we may be one as They are one. Life is not life at all unless it is shared. To share the ordinary things of life gives me an idea of what it will be like to share the life of God. Have we learned to live a little like our God of Love? Could I truthfully say: "All I have is yours"? (see Jn 17:10). In my eagerness to live for the good of my own people, I learned that I had been affected by the Western sickness of wanting to give all the time. In being thrown back on my personal poverty and powerlessness, I have learned better how to receive--graciously, lovingly. It has opened up a beautiful new perspective in regard to all those whose lives touch mine, whether that might be family, work, community, friends, strangers. To all people, I have learned from the East the meaning of the simple, demanding statement: "I am for you.", Simple realities we take so much for granted have assumed a deeper significance: the really deprived among us are those without hope, those who have not discovered the immense riches of their true selves, those who hide behind barriers of fear, mistrust, hatred; those of us who dare not celebrate a life we feel too fragile; those ofus who have lost the festivity and joy of living. "What does it matter if you gain the whole world and lose your true self?." (Mk 8:36). In being evangelized by those people considered "poor" in the eyes of the world, I have become more deeply human--just as I have received my reality as a person also from those to whom I have been sent here at home. There Are No "Them" and "Us" As He turned to his people he felt great compassion: he wanted to reach out. His very desire for their good healed them--he truly "lived with" their need. There are no "them" and "us"--it is always "we together." He wants to free each one of us from our fears, doubts, hesitations, inabilities, limitations. He wants to launch us on his mission, before his healing power can effectively flow through us. 1 think ! lost any trace of the "Messiah complex," of "giving Christ to the world" rather than discovering him present inall peoples, during that time in the East. This true sharing leads to a deep communion. The bonds of community grow in the measure that we share who we are with all men. How do I approach those on the other side of the barriers in our own environment? Is it from a position of strength toward weakness? Is it from a position of "having it all" and needing to satisfy a nagging sense that "we must do something"? Or do those of us who genuinely want to reach out to others, 4~16 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 do so from the reality of being grasped by Christ,freed by him, impelled by his love to proclaim that he is alive today--among us? There is something deep within each of us as human beings that makes us want to live in communion with others. I don't want to approach anyone, or want to break through barriers, with the attitude of "them out there," of "isn't it awful?," of "what can we do about it?" I would rather like to receive all with an empty, open heart, in reverence, in stillness--in waiting, if need be. Entering into another's reality means entering into the "why" of the fears, barriers, defenses. Do I live with a sense of equality among all? When we talk of neighborliness, of friendship across the barriers, could I truthfully say to you, "All I have is yours!"? Only then can we return to each other the festivity and joy of living. How One Man Became Free In the slums of Manila, where 80% of the people live below the poverty line, they spoke with us about the climate of fear and oppression around them. There was no hint of hopelessness--though one often met with a feeling of powerlessness. This was brought home to us as one group told us how they had come across the wife and family of a well-known political prisoner. ~ This manhad been in a position equivalent to the opposition. Since the introduction of martial law he had been in prison, and denied the right to ordinary legal proceedings for a trial. A military tribunal hearing was to begin the following day. His wife pleaded with us visitors to. come with her. With some apprehension as to possible consequences, we did, and' were amazed to find the courtroom nearly filled with priests and sisters morally upholding the prisoner~ The hearings of his challenge to the tribunal was an outstanding example of real strength against injustice. A remark he made during the trial has echoed in my mind through all the weeks and months which followed: My cell door, ironically, has been my door to freedom. Having walked through it, I have lost my fears. It became my door to freedom when I finally acknowledged its threats as the promise of liberation and truth . I cannot yield to you my spirit and my conscience. I am yielding to might but not to right . After four years in confinement, 1 have finally realized that man must fear most the prison of his own making--the prison of fear itself. Freedom From Fear I returned with renewed'faith--God, who has begun this great thing, humanity, and Christianity; will see it through. Sharing in his love for all those whose lives touch mine, I dare to believe that he can use even me to bring life to a world without hope. And, when I am united with you., and you., who believe, the kingdom of God has come among us. "There are no experts, only disciples who learn by doing." ~An'd, when we are given the courage to launch out into (he deep, we don't know where Journey into Ancestral Fear that "doing" will end! When Christ raised Lazarus from the dead, he gave him ~over to the people wh6 surrounded them to be unbound. So, as he raises us, he gives us to each other to continue the unbinding--receiving our reality from each other, giving each other our freedom--in dignity, simplic-ity, beauty, hospitality. "Yes, we are a happy, carefree people, but something is happening to our hearts which we do not understand." The worst form of poverty is to be alive without hope. To be without hope is to be without Him---our Savior. But where He is, there is no fear: "Perfect love casts out fear" (1 Jn 18). I came away from the East free of a fear which had paralyzed and prevented all aspects of my life. And so I understood the fear in our environment here at home. The historic wounds are so deep, part of the very fabric of our lives--so deep we might not recognize ourselves without them. As God touches our beings personally, gradually, gently., leading us toward personal wholeness in him, so he touches us as a people. He, as it were, goes back into history and heals the wounds history has left behind. This is the healing we need as a nation. ~ This freedom from fear enables us to proclaim by our lives: "Serenity--knowing we are loved, assured, at peace with him and our-selves; Stability--God is God, let Him be God. He holds all, hand it over to him. Tranquillity---overflowing from an abiding sense of his presence among US. Capability--his power in our lives, his power overflowing to others. This is our service--to be open to all: the fruit of the Spirit of peace among us. We need to speak for God in these our troubled times as reso-lutely as the prophets of old. We need to proclaim joy, hope, peace in the midst of the many disasters round about. Real hope dawns when there is no other possibility than absolute dependence on God---our foot constantly wearing out his doorstep! The Brotherhood of Man is Possible! Already, as I was learning these truths more deeply, thousands of peo-ple were rising up at home and speaking fearlessly for peace, forging stronger ties towards reconciliation. Since then, freedom has been pro-claimed again and again, echo6d by a thousand voices. In the past, gather-ings in war left bitterness, hatred, division festering in age-old wounds. And then enough people said, "We have been governed by fear" to enable gatherings in peace, and joy, forging links of reconciliation. Yes, I learned how to face our fears, turn my back on them, and reso-lutely turn towards all that builds up a climate of reconciliation, strength-ened not by any ability but by my weakness and dependence on His strength. It was worth going to the other end of the world to learn that alone ! 488 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 I have felt great sadness at these gatherings too. How effective they will ultimately be depends on how many present have risen out of their fear, how deeply and how realistically each one becomes peace. Too many are carried along on waves of emotion! Yet the brotherhood of man is possible---even here! The answer to the divisions, exploi/ations, war, hatred, rejection, hunger, fear-in-the-world is our Christ of the Beatitudes, with his call to share. There is only one human family. But if we have never experienced human love, can we offer love, or understand what struggle for another involves, or live a life of communion with God? And how can anyone know love--unless you and I love? In the past I have been constantly strengthened by the beautiful expressions of love and hospitality, of generosity, of sharing that I have known among our people here, daily witnessing to the fact that even in our shattered lives the spirit of love is at work among us. Iam filled with more hope than ever. And I am very, very, grateful at being placed near people in .need--at the heart of my people's search for him; at the point of their desire for him. Life has always been beautiful and full of the surprises of God: that beauty has been increased a thousandfold for me. I feel hope rising in leaps 6f Joy: Expect the impossible! Believe the unbelievable! Proclaim the truth !--For God is with us! Each, returned to his own Galile~i, can proclaim fearlessly that which we have seen, touched, tasted (1 Jn 1:1). He is here. He is with us. Hope makes us live. ForHe is our peace. Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition Mary Catherine Barron, C.S.J. Sister Mary Catherine is a frequent contributor to these pages. Her last article appeared in September, 1978. She resides at 91 Overlook Ave.; Latham, NY 12110. For a long time now, he had haunted me, this acerbic little man-- haunted me and annoyed me. He seemed so utterly sore: ulcerous wounds on the outside, bleeding heart on the inside. Who needed it? Who also needed his words--thunderous, vehement complaints~de-nouncing life, God, man. Quite honestly, who wanted to tangle with all this writhing agony? It might underscore the already too familiar. So determinedly, I put him aside and concentrated on other things: the joy of Joseph, the fidelity of Ruth, the.trusting surrender of Esther. But they occupied my time, not my mind. For behind them all, there he sat, that angry, implacable figuremstinking, screaming, wildly gesticulating. Ulti-mately, against my will and better judgment, he antagonized me to his side--flies and all. To be candid, I hate flies. And odors like disease and manure, And unmitigated complaining. And pseudo-sympathy. It all talks and walks like death. So I didn't really like Job in his utter humanity. It was too graphically prophetic. That was the haunting part. The annoying part is that, in spite of all of it, I stayed. So now there are two of us si~ting in the noonday sun--hot and stubborn and mad. Eventually, someone will have to speak. In the end it was Job who broke the silence and cursed the day of his birth (Jb 3:1). 489 490 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 Just like that--for twenty-six verses--spewing out anger. Why was he born? Why couldn't he die? Words filled with dread of the future, sleepless-ness, lament. Grief has a way of doing that, you know. Utter stone., then the crack across the surface. A few heaves--abruptly a mountain becomes a volcano, lava of words and emotion searing out everywhere. Shock on the faces of onlookers st.ampeding to take cover: "Spare us your painful fire, please. Please.'~ While the volcano rages on. And then., the deathlike stillness ¯ . . followed by meaningless words trying to make meaning. A survivor gasps: "Then Eliphaz of Teman spoke: 'If I were as you are, Job . . .' " If ¯ . . if. Through all the wreckage and debris. "If I were as you." if. The irony of those words: Who can be like Job, when one is sound and whole and safe, free from loss, darkness, despair? Speaking out of loved ones alive and farm lands intact, what can such a one as Eliphaz know of unanswered questions, heartrending supplications? For him, do they even exist? Silence. Then, imperceptibly, a stirring from the ashpit, a flicker of the eyelash. Job speaks: If only my misery could be weighed . What wonder then if my words are wild? The arrows of Shaddai stick fast in me . My spirit absorbs their poison (6: I-4). Ah yes--those poisonous arrows of Shaddai; those intimations of doom from Sheol that stick deep. into the soul; the-certain knowledge- that never again will there be innocence and joy. And always there ~are the bitter questions asked over and over of self: Will I be able to go on? Why go on anyway? Where are my friends? Why can't they understand? Fear and loneliness. The Underworld. Someone creeps near to draw out the stir~g, to touch the cracked skin. It is Bildad. He urges humility: You too, if so pure and honest must now seek God, plead with Shaddai (8:4-5). These are soothing words indeed: "ff you are honest." This is an answer with insight!?'Seek God; plead with Shaddai." How is Job to do this when Shaddai has disappeared? Where is God to be found for Job, the sufferer? A lull ensues. The hot breeze blows. Flies buzz. Then a voice. And Job said: Your own hands shaped me, modeled me: And would you now have second thoughts and destroy me? (10:8). The appeal and bargaining begin. Who hasn't done it? Bargaining with self; Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition / 49"1 bargaining with God. And the panic: how dare oppose the Almighty's will? How dare question Yahweh God Omnipotent? Suppose I am right? Wha.t difference would it make? Suppose I am wrong? What then? Yet, what is there to lose when one has already lost everything? "Yahweh, give a little happiness before death." Is this too much to ask? Appeal and bargain-ingwwho hasn't done it? .Zophar apparently. For he queries pontifically: Can you claim to grasp the mystery of God, To understand the perfection of Shaddai? It is higher than the heavens; what can you do? It is deeper than Sheol; what can you know? (11:7-8) Truth--unadorned and stark. What can you do? Nothing. What can you know? Nothingwabsolutely nothing. That is the darkness, the pain. Help-lessness in the face of the abyss--the human condition. What can you know? What can you do? Nothing--nothing except to confront Yahweh. Despair--the human condition. Then, convoluting tortuously, comes the rush of Job's words, ejaculated with the vehemence of despair, discharged with the agony of futility, resolute like one,maddened: I mean to remonstrate with God; I will do the talking, whatever may befall me. I put my flesh between my teeth, I take my life in my hands. Let him kill me if he will (13:3-15). The pathos of those words, the frenzy! The "last-chance syndrome." Where have we heard it before? From what corner of the universe has'it n0t cried out? V~e havehea'rd it on the lips of the dying; in the hearts of survivors; from the tomb called old age and rejection; out of the spectral ¯ stare of disease and starvation. Who has not, at some point in life, taken one's flesh in one's hands, remonstrated with God? But Eiiphaz cannot understand. Not yet having plumbed the depths of misery, never having drunk suffering's cup to the dregs, he cannot fathom .the pain that would drive a man to contend with God. He only sees the obvious: anger and rebellion. And sohe says: ~'See how passion carries you away!" Passion--that double-edged sword of grief and joy, the ecstasy and bestiality of man, the most cherished and most despised of gifts. Passion. Who has not longed for its transforming unity? Who has not wept over its fragmenting discord? Passion. I watch him--Job~as he masticates Eliphaz's words. He chews them carefully as one chews a fish with bones. He moves his teeth cautiously around them and just as cautiously his t6ngue. But he will not swallow 492 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 them. He holds them in his mouth, in one corner of his cheek, and stares ahead at emptiness. "Swallow them," I plead silently, urgently, "or spit them out. Don't hold them lest they choke you." But there is nothing-- only that awful bulbous cheek and the empty stare. It is mid-afternoon, the height of heat and sun, reason's siesta time. Perspiration drips. Things swim before the eyes: mirages, desert visions, subconscious creatures from the soul. The universe crumples like a folded fan. The breeze pants hot across inert bodies, creating the sense of being played upon, fretted. And then, heartrendingly Job cries out: He has shattered me! He has pierced me! He has breached me! He has borne down on me! Every fibre of my heart is broken! I weep! I cry out! Still he shoots his arrows into me! I am overcome! (16:17) The Litany of Passion, divine passion. Good old platitudinous Eliphaz has finally hit the mark. Unerringly, unknowingly, Job has be'en ravished. In the nakedness of a cloudless day, we have seen him vanquished, embraced. He gasps and swallows. The lump travels to his throat and lodges. Is it possible that loss is no longer what he wails? Could it be that he and Yahweh are suddenly bartering for surrender? Without moving an inch, Job has traversed a terrain. I swallow too. Silence impregnates solitude. No one stirs. The sun moves impercep-tibly. A shade begins. Coolness trickles down my brow. 'I close my eyes and wipe the damp. I feel like sleep. Or death. I feel like dying, if dying is so much a pouring out. I feel like.sleep if sleep is like release. I feel . Mournfully into the dusk, Bildad speaks, musing: Driven from light into darkness man is an exile from the earth (18:18). "Driven from light into darkness." Like the sun's course. Like the ocean's tide. Like the season's change: Like life's pattern! Dawn, noon, night. High, ebb, low. Fertility, fall, winter. Birth, life, death. "Driven from light into darkness." Man. The mood is infectious. Night hedges in. Animal cries echo. And Job takes up the refrain: God, you must know, is my oppressor and his is the net that closes round me. He has covered my way with darkness. My kindred and my friends have all gone away. The hand of God has struck me (19:6-21). Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition / 493 "Driven from light into darkness." And suddenly, like a meteor across the sky, Hope flares briefly: But this 1 know, I, Job, that my Avenger lives, and he, the Last, will take his stand on earth. He will set me close to him, and from my flesh I shall look on God. He whom I shall see will take my part; These eyes will gaze on him and find him not aloof (19~25-27). It is the song of the prisoner, the condemned. It is the avowal of the sick man, dying. It is the prayer of the faithful soul, deserted. "I know that my Avenger lives." His words fall into the air dropping like snow on velvet, glistening and hushed. The moon rises and clouds over; the stars wink and disappear. It is the inky time of night. Absolute aloneness. Total isolation. Simple breath-ing is intrusion. And I think: "Enveloped by the darkness, shall we quietly slip away'?" The eternal temptation of friendship: to quietly slip away. Will he even know we're gone, so absorbed is he in pain? Will he even care, since, in fact, we cannot help? Is there any point to vigils when the heart lies already dead? Truly, how far does fidelity go? How deep does commitment bind? Ironically, Job gives the answer: fidelity is radical. Its presence is an absolute grace; its absence, an absolute sorrow not to be compared. Job has known the calamity of loss, the pain of bereavement, the suffering of illness. Yet, none of these hold the anguish of desertion and infidelity which is the dark night of the soul; the index tingler of Yahweh scraping across the heart; the Ruah, his breath, blowing in the memory, tantalizing, near, but indescribably far away. From this void of absolute emptiness, Job laments in prayer: That heavy hand of his drags groans from me. If only 1 knew how to reach him, or go travel to his dwelling! If I go eastward, he is not there; or westward--still I cannot see him. If I seek him in the north, he is not to be found; invisible still when I turn to the south . For darkness hides me from him and the gloom veils his Presence from me (23:2-17). This is Psalm 139 prayed backwards. Even in desolation, Job is a good Israelite. And how accurately he speaks. When human friends depart, the griefis great, but who can measure the torment which ensues when God withdraws? "Under cover of darkness, Yahweh, have You, too, slipped away?" So I sit and wait and rest. The night leaks out drop by drop. Minutes become ages, then cease. It is the hour of desolation, which is timeless. 4~14 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 Inevitable. "And Job continues his solemn discourse. He says:" Who will bring me back to the months that have gone, and the days when G~d was my guardian; When his lamp shone over my hi~ad~ and his light was my guide in the darkness? I cry out to you and you give me no answer (29:1-4; 30:20). How does one deal with that--the silence of~non-response, the answer of the void? Does one walk away dejectedly or does one catapult into the abyss? There is death either way. And thus, Job carefully considers, examines his days and his nights, probes his heartaches and ecstasies, fingers his hopes and his dreams. Is their memory worth silence or speech, retreat or confrontation? And then with a mighty leap, embodying faith and despairJob issues the challenge, directly, forcibly, to God: Who can get me a hearing from God?~ I have had my say from A to Z; now let Shaddai answer me~ When my Adversary has drafted his writ against me, I shall wear it on my shoulder, and bind it round my head like a royal turban. I will give him an account of every step Of my life, and go as boldly as a prince to.meet him (31:35-40). With this ringing declaration, argumentation ceases; lament is done. "End of the words of Job" (31:40). A tremulous pause. Terror grips. Awe invades. The e]arth turns over and I am sick, my senses reeling. Roaring thunder, thickening night. "My God! My God! We are strangling to death. Our words regurgitate." The desert sand flails. I cover my face; I grovel on the earth; I burrow into the dirt. "And then from the heart of the tempest, Yahweh gave Job his answer" (38:1). In fifty eight questions! And Job replied to Yahweh: My words have been frivolous; what can I reply? 1 had better lay my finger on my lips. (40:3-4) God has a way of doing that--giving questions for answers. He has shown himself divine Socratic: And Yahweh God called to the man: Where are you? (Gn 3:9). Yahweh asked Cain: Where is your brother Abel? (Gn 4:9). YahWeh asked Abraham: Why did Sarah laugh? (Gn 18:13). And the one who wrestled with Jacob said: Why do you ask my Name? (Gn 32:29). And Yahweh answered Moses: Who makes man deaf or dumb, gives him sight or leaves him blind?Is it not I, Yahweh? (Ex 4:12). In fact, all through Salvation History we have been closing our mouths Sitting It Out With Job: The Human Condition / 495 with our fi .ngers~too late. Job is in good company. I relax and come up for air,. And Job gave answer to Yahweh: I know that you are all powerful: what you conceive, you can perform. I am the man who obscured your designs with my empty-headed words. 1 have been holding forth on matters I cannot understand; on marvels beyond me and my knowledge (42:1-3). Humility. Man before the divine. Nature kneeling to Transcendence. The mystery of God. And Job replied: I retract all I have sa!d; In dust and ashes, I repent (42:!-3). The beauty of humanity. Its capacity for enlargement. Its yearning for completeness. Its ability to change. Because 1 knew you then by hearsay, but now I see you with my own eyes (42:5). Knowledge of the heart. Contemplation and surrender. Incarnation re-versed: man entering into God, Peace. My pulse resumes. My heart begins to beat. I can see that I am stained. I can see that I can see.t A mist of rose gathers in the east. A breeze sighs. Or is it Eliphaz? And Yahweh God said to Eliphaz of Teman: 'I burn with anger against you and your two friends for not speaking truthfully a~out:me as my servant Job has done. So now find seven bullocks and seven rams, and take them back with.you to my servant Job, and offer a holocaust for yourselves, while Job, my servant, offers prayers for you. I will listen to him with favor and excuse your folly in not speaking of me properly as my servant Job has done.' Eliphaz of Teman, Bildad of Shuah and Zophar of Naamath went away to do as Yahweh had ordered, and Yahweh listened to Job with favor (42:7-9). So now there are two of us sitting in the morning's dawn, tired, and joyful, and reborn. Someone will have to speakmbut no one does. There is only the echo of a deeper silencemthe silence of refrain: Where were you when I laid the earth's foundations? Who decided the dimensions of:it; do you know? Have you ever gi~,en orders to the morning? Have you journeyed to the sources of the sea? Which is the way to the home of light? Where does darkness live? Has the rain a father? What womb brings forth the ice? (38; 39) Riddles. Unsolved riddles. Man, and mystery, and wonder. Pain, and suffering, and death. The human condition. Riddles. Unsolved riddles. And 496 / Review for Religious, Volume38, 1979/4 always the eternal unyielding question: "Do you really want {o reverse My judgment and put Me in the wrong to put yourself in the right?" (40:3) I stretch and rise to go. Job never notices. He is wrapt in prayer, I suppose, for Eliphaz, Bildad, and Teman. 1 shake out my robe, flex my toes inside my sandals. I start across the sand. The dusty road coils away and flows into the sky; the air trembles with the weight of birds; the grasses caress the soil. Love and infinity. Providence and care. The human condi-tion. I plod on down the road, humming as I go: Has the rain a father? What womb brings forth the ice? Now Available As A Reprint The "Active-Contemplative" Problem in.Religious Life by David M. Knight Price: $.75 per copy, plus postage. Address" Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I Robert M. Doran, S.J. Father Doran delivered three lectures at Creighton University last year as part of a Spiritual Enric.hment Program. This isthe first one in article form. He resides in the Jesuit Community; Creighton University; 2500 California Street; Omaha, NE 68178. Christian Spiritual Transformation: Self-Transcendence and Self-Appropriation This is the first of three articles on the subject of Jungian psychology and contemporary Christian spirituality. The present article will focus on the latter of these two items, on Christian spiritual transformation as this is understood at the present moment in the life of the Church. By concentrat-ing on two terms frequently employed in the works of Bernard Lonergan, self-transcendence and kelf-appropriation, I hope to provide a context for the next two articles, which will deal more extensively with Jung. This first article will treat, first, Christian spiritual tranformation as self-transcendence; second, Christian spiritual transformation as growth in self-knowledge orself-appropriation; third, the levels of consciousness that can be discovered when one enters on the way of self-appropriat!on; and fourth, the relation of feelings and symbols to these various levels or dimensions of consciousness. This fourth topic locates that element of our interior lives in regard to which Jung's insights become pertinent for our spiritual self-understanding. I have discovered that any such treatment of Jung as the present one eventually brings me into that form of discrimination which, in Ignatian 497 4911 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 spirituality, is called the discernment of spirits. Jung is a religiously contro-versial figure. Not only does my own treatment and evaluation of Jung tend to arouse rather than quell the arguments that surround his person and his work, but, more significantly, my critical response to Jung always ~arries me to the heart of the Christian exigence to differentiate the true call of God from the subtle attractions of the force~ of evil as these two contrary tendencies compete for the allegiance of men and women involved in the renewal of the contemporary Church. Why this is so will hopefully be-come clear in the subsequent articles, especially in the final one. But perhaps I can offer now some indication of the difficulty. First, then, Jung ih a religiously controversial figure. The religious significance of his psychological insights is variously interpreted. John A. Sanford and Morton Kelsey are two well-known authors who have drawn on Jung to promote and understand Christian self-discovery.~ On the other hand, James Hiilman has. maintained that Jung's guidelines to "soul-making" are of a completely different order from the well-known paths to spiritual transformation in Christ and from the insights of the other major religious traditions of the world,z Martin Buber entered into direct conflict with Jung, claiming that the psychology of individuation and Yahwistic faith are diametrically opposedorientations.of the human spirit.3 Jung him-self, as we shall see, gives some indications of his own that the process of individtiation will lead the cognoscentes to the position of being able to dispense with all forms of traditional religious involvement; but he also attempted to offer his psychology as an aid to the pastoral care of souls.4 What 'is one to make of these differences and ambiguities? Obviously, some framework must be found to enable us to enter on the kind of process that Lonergan calls dialectic and foundations: the process, namely, in which we not only assemble and review alternative interpretations, but also evalt~ate and compare them, reduce their affinities and oppositions to their underlyin~ roots,.determine which, if any, of.these roots stand in dialectical ~See, for example,~John A. Sanford, Dreams: God's Forgotten Language (Philadelphia and New York: Lippincott, 1968); Healing and Wholeness (New York: Paulist Press, 1977); Morton Kelsey, Dreams: The Dark Speech of the Spirit, A Christian Interpretation (New York: Doubleday, 1968); Encounter with God: A Theology of Christian Experience (Minneap61is: Bethany, 1972). 2See James Hillman, The Myth of Analysis: Three Essays in Archetypal Psychology (Evanston: Northwestern University Press, 1972). I quote from p. 21: "The spiritual-director models of guru, rabbi, oflgnatius or Fenelon, of Zen master, are only substitutions on which we lean for want of surety about the true model for psychology." 3See Edward C. Whitmont, "Prefatory Remarks to Jung~s 'Reply to Buber,' " in Spring: An Annual of Archetypal Psychology andJungian Thought (1973), pp. 188-195; and C; G. Jung, "Religion and Psychology: A Reply to Martin Buber," ibid., pp. 196-203. 4Compare C. G. Jung, "'Is Analytical Psychology a Religion?" (notes on a talk given by Jung, in Sprihg, 1972, pp. 144-148) with Jung's "Psychotherapists or the Clergy," in C. G. Jung, Modern Man in Search of a Soul (New York: Harcourt, Brace, and World, 1933), pp. 221-244. Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I / 499 opposition to one another in such wise that only a radical transformation of the basic horizon can achieve reconciliation, and, finally, choose that basic horizon and those resultant positions and interpretations which we will make our own.5 Such a framework is what I hope to offer in theopresent article. Secondly,- my own judgments and decisions regarding the potential spiritual fruitfulness of Jung's work are themselves controversial, at least in the sense that they will please neither Jung's detractors nor his enthusias-tic followers. For I will sharply differentiate the process of Christian self-transformation from the way to individuation that .lung maps out for us. But I will also insist with equal force that there is much that we not only can, but indeed must, learn from him in developing both a theology and an ascesis of" spiritual transformation in the context of the contemporary world. Thirdly, the only final arbiter of the kind of discrimination that I find necessary is what we have come to call the'discernment of spirits.lung's theological A.mbiguities, and thealternative interpretations and evaluations that are offered of his work, are symptomatic of an underlying spiritual conflict that can be mediated only in the context of the dialectic ofgrace and of sin, of the Standards of Christ and of Satan. David Burrell has indicated correctly that one cannot fail to meet God if one goes on the inner journey to individuation.6 But one will also meet much.that is not God, and that is even opposed to God. Not only does Jung not help one to discriminate these forces as they operate in one's psyche, but he also contributes to and even encourages the confusion'that can be experienced in such moments that call for discernment, and thus mires one in the conflictual forces that wage an ultimate battle in the depths of one's psyche. Jung's work, if left uncriti-cized, leads one into a psychological cul-de-sac that can assume demonic pi'oportions. Christian Spiritual Transformation As Self-Transcendence ~ ' There are many diverse and quite useful approaches to the understand-ifig'of spiritual transformation. I have chosen to focus on two terms that have been developed by Bernard Lonergan. Lonergan's thought has achieved a great deal of notoriety due principally, it would seem, to its difficulty. I have no intention here of repeating the subtle intricacies of his full argumentation. I will rather present in what I hope are quite under-standable tdrms (he results of that argumentation, and will deal with more 5Bernard Lonergan, Method in Theology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), Chapters Ten and Eleven. 6David Burrell, Exercises in Religious Understanding (South Bend: University of Notre Dame Press, 1974), p. 221. 500 /ReviewforReligious, Volume 38, 1979/4 subtle points only to the extent that they are necessary to clarify my basic position.7 I choose Lonergan's approach to the issue of Christian spiritual trans-formation for several reasons. First, it is the approach with which I am most familiar and the one that 1 personally have found most helpful. Secondly, Lonergan explicitly takes his stand in human interiority. And, when we are talking about either spiritual transformation or Jungian psychology, we are talking about the realm of interior experience, about the data of conscious-ness, about such events as insights, judgments, decisions, and, as we will see, dreams. All of these happenings are items that we experience. But we experience them interiorly. None of us has ever seen an insight or a feeling. But I trust, too, that none of us would claim that he or she had never experienced a feeling or an insight, never judged that some proposition was true or false, never made a decision. Moreover, I hope that we all know the experience of wanting to understand, wanting to be reasonable in our judgments, wanting to be responsible in our decisions. For it is in the realm of that desire, and in being faithful to that desire, that Lonergan locates what it is to be an authentic human person. But our experience of these events and of this desire occurs, not in the realm of outer sense, but in the domain of human interiority. It is in interiority that, through these events of understanding, judging, and deciding, we "process" reality. Sensations come in; language goes out; but between sensations and language there is, as Lonergan has formulated it in some recent lectures, the mysterious "little black box" of our interiority. The workings of that little black box are the domain that we concentrate upon in Christian spiritual theology, in Jungian p§ychoiogy, and in any attempt such as the present one that would relate spirituality to psychology. I should mention, in addition, two other advantages that accrue from employing Lonergan's framework for understanding interiority? First, his stress, as I have already indicated, is on human desire, and desire is the area of our being that is illuminated by the explorations also of the great depth ps~ychologists, including Jung, Secondly, and most importantly, Lonergan emphasizes that spiritual development is not something that oc-curs in some realm that is isolated from the insights that we have into the events of our everyday life, from the judgments that we make as to the truth or falsity of the most mundane propositions, from the anxieties we feel and the decisions that we make regarding our orientation and actions as beings-in- the-world. God's saving purpose is a will to save the world itself, to redeem the time of our lives, as Eliot would put it. It is not a dimension of 7There are, of course, dangers in such a procedure, for the reader can easily take the results of Lonergan's explorations as a series of concepts that could dispense one from the task of insight into oneself. There are no short-cuts to the self-appropriation to which Lonergan invites one. But precisely because there are no short-cuts, I can only ask the reader interested in pursuing the process to go to Lonergan's works themselves. Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: reality that is totally extrinsic from the events of understanding, judging, and deciding, that we experience every day. On the other hand, our relation to God is not to be collapsed into a secularistic denial of the supernatural character of grace. Rather, grace is offered in its supernatural character within the events of our everyday lives. So the perspective offered by Lonergan is neither a fundamentalism or extrinsicism that denies the this-worldly character of our lives, nor a secularism or immanentism that ne-glects the absolutely transcendent origin and finality of the relationship to the divine in which we stand at every moment of our lives. What, then, is Christian spiritual development? Lonergan's treatment of this question is provided at the end of a lengthy analysis of human cognitional and moral development that concludes with the realization that the flowering of human potential, the sustained development of the human person, the solution of such social ills as injustice, alienation, and the dominance of totalitarian aspirations in both~the West and East today, are impossible on the basis of human resources alone. We are confronted with a problem of evil in our development as human persons and in the social organization of human affairs. This problem is rooted in our very constitu-tion as human subjects, in our finitude, in the tension between our always limited possibilities and our aspirations to transcend these limitations. I will not go into the intricacies of Lonergan's analysis of the roots of moral impotence. Suffice it to say that he argues persuasively that we are faced with a problem of evil that we are powerless to resolve. If there is going to be a solution to the problem of evil, it must come in the form of redemption. Either there is a divinely originated solution to the problem of evil, or there is no solution at all. If God exists, if God knows of our plight, and if God is good, then there is a divinely originated solution that is offered to our freedom, one that we can accept or reject, and that, if we accept it, will involve us in a whole new area of growth and transformation, an area which we would not even know in any explicit way if God had not come to meet us. This distinct area of development is related to our cognitional and moral development. It is not the product of our knowing and our choosing. It is not something that we vainly imagine, or that we produce by wishful thinking. Rather, it is offered to our knowledge and our freedom as agift. And, if we accept it, it transvalues our values, and provides a new context for Our knowing~ a new atmosphere or environment that enables us to be truly intelligent in our questioning and genuinely reasonable in our judg-ments. This new context is faith, which Lonergan defines as "the eye of love," the eye of the love that is ours, that is the atmosphere in which we live, when we know ourselves as unconditionally loved by, and rooted in, the love that is God's alone.8 8See Lonergan, Insight: A Study of Human Understanding (paperback edition, New York: Harper and Row, 1978), Chapters Eighteen and Twenty; Method in Theology, Chapter Four. 51~2 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 The divine solution to the problem of evil, then, is God's gift of his love that is poured forth into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.~ Our desire for this love is a natural desire: with Thomas Aquinas, Lonergan insists that we have a natural desire for the vision and love of God.t0 He insists, too, that our subjectivity is mutilated or abolished, unless we are stretching forth towards God: There lies within [our] horizon a region for the divine, a shrine for ultimate holiness. It cannot be ignored. The atheist may pronounce it empty. The agnostic may urge that he finds his investigation has been inconclusive. The contemporary humanist will refuse to allow the question [of God] to arise. But their negations presuppose the spark in our clod, our native orientation to the divine." , Being in love with God, then, is for Lonergan the basic fulfilment of the deepest human desire, that desire that he calls "conscious intentionality." That fulfillment brings a deep-set joy that can remain despite humiliation, failure, privation, pain, betrayal, desertion. That fulfillment brings a radical peace, the peace that the world cannot give. That fulfillment bears fruit in a love of one's neighbor that strives mightily to bring about the kingdom of God on this earth. On the other hand, the absence of that fulfillment opens the way to the trivialization of human life in the pur.suit of fun. to the harshness of human life arising from the ruthless exercise of o, power, to despair about human welfare spnnging from the conviction that the universe is absurd.~ God's love is offered to all men and women at every time and place. This universality of God's self-communication (a notion that he has in common with Karl Rahner) Lonergan speaks of in terms of God's inner word, the word that God speaks in the solitude of our hearts, drawing us to himself. But this love is also embodied, incarnate, revealed for all to see, in the outer word of the life, preaching, death, and resurrection of Jesus.~.'~ "And I, if I be lifted up from the earth, shall draw all men to myself.''~4 The disciples of Jesus through the centuries constitute that community whose task it will.~ be until the end of time to give explicit witness in external words and deeds to the offer of divine love as the only resolution oLthe otherwise hopeless human dilemma of personal incapacity to grow, of social injustice and alienation. As another superb contemporary thinker. Eric Voegelin, has labored for thirty years to argue, no social order that is not permeated with the love of the unseen measure that Christians call God can be just or humanly fulfilling.~5 In language current among those who have followed 9Rm 5:5. ~°See Lonergan. "The Natural Desire to See God." in Collection: Papers by Bernard Loner-gan (New York: Herder and Herder. 1967), pp. 84-95. t~Lonergan. Method in Theology, p. 103. ~21bid. p. 105. talbid., pp. 112-115. t4jn 12:32. ~sSee Eric Voegelin, Order and History, four volumes to date (Louisiana State University Press, 1956-1974). Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: l / 503 recent deliberations Within the Church, faith and justice are inextricably linked in the mission of the disciples of Jesus in the world.16 Christian spiritual transformation, in this context, is thus a matter, first~ of a process of conversion that involves a growing intimacy with the source and fountain of redemptive love, an intimacy that takes the form of being evermore patterned after the example of Christ; and, second, of a growing commitment and ability to participate in the mission of Christ, which is also the mission of that community.whose task it is tb render explicit to the whole world the fact that,.in Jesus the Christ, God has definitively revealed the saving action that he is always working in the world. To be in love with God is also to be sent by God. To grow in the love of God is also to grow in participation in the mission--the saving and revealing mission---of Jesus. Christian spiritual growth thus involves a number of elements: a) One comes to a developing familiarity with God, so that one is able ever more readily and ever more easily to find him and to participate with him in his redemptive work after the pattern of Christ, the suffering servant of God. b) One grows in the ability to discern precisely what it is that God wants of oneself and of one's community, and in the willingness to do what it is that God asks, confident that what one is doing is not one's own work but God's. c) Summing up all of what this development involves, one grows~in self-transcendence. This is the first key term that I take from Lonergan. One grows in self-transcendence, until, in the saint, there is reached a point of the union of one's own understanding, reason, and desire with the knowl-edge and love of God, a union that can only be broadened and heightened, deepened and enriched, but not gone beyond; and a point of self-abnegation and humility that rejoices in sharing the lot of the poor, despised, and humiliated Son of God himself, in his mission of establishing the kingdom of God on earth. Christian spiritual transformation is a matter of continual conversion to self-transcendence, within the community of the disciples of the Lord that is the Church, until there is reached the point where one's understanding, one's judgments of fact and of value, one's desires, and one's choices, while not ceasing to be one's own, are a participation in the understanding, the judgments, the desires, the choices of God himself, working in and through oneself and one's community, to continue and to spread the redemption of the world that only God can effect. If, then, we are talking about Christian spiritual development as a trans-formation of our insights, our judgments, our desires, and our choices, we ~6See the document of the 1971 Synod of Bishops, Justice in the World. See also the Docu~- merits of the 32nd General Congregation of the Society of Jesus, and especially Decree 4, "Our Mission Today." 504 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 /4 are speaking of it as fundamentally a transformation of our interiority, of our basic horizon. The difference that God's solution to the problem of evil makes in the social world, in the world of economics and politics, in the world of institutions and organizations, is a function of the difference it makes in persons, in the unity of personal consciousness, in people's vision and choices. Christian spiritual development, considered most radically; is a transformation of one's understanding and of ~)ne's willingness, so that these two are brought into harmony and cooperation with God's redemp-tive purpose in Christ Jesus and through the community of his disciples. The transformation, once again, is in the direction of self-transcendence, so that, by accepting God'.s offer of both salvation and vocation, one becomes ever more God-centered and Christ-centered in one's apprehensions of value and in one's decisions, in one's pursuit of meaning and truth, and in one's affective engagement with other persons in the dramatic situations that constitute the stuff, the setting, the stage, of one's own personal story and of history itself. Christian Spiritual Transformation as Self-Appropriation Now, besides serf-transcendence, there is another term that Lonergan uses when he speaks of development. That term is self-appropriation. Self-appropriation is a matter of self-knowledge, of self-discovery, of self-understanding. One can bE quite self-transcendent, quite loving and generous, quite genuine in one's relations with others, quite sincere about wanting to understand things correctly, without being very adept at intri-cate and precise self-knowledge.~ One can be, in Lonergan's terms, quite religiously and morally converted without being intellectually converted. 18 Intellectual conversion is a matter of knowing precisely what one is doing when one is pursuing understanding, reaching for truth, trying to decide in responsible fashion. Many people genuinely try to understand, and succeed in doing so, without being able to say precisely what they are doing when they understand, .how their insights are related to their sensations, their questions, their beliefs, their .images, their concepts, their feelings. One can also be quite religiously and morally converted without being what I have called "psychically converted.''~ Psychic conversion is a matter of know-ing what one is feeling, of being able to tell one's story, and to tell it as it is. One,can have a quite genuine and even beautiful life of feeling without being able to tell what he or she is feeling, how this feeling is related .to that, how both feelings are related to the objects they intend, how one's feelings 17See Lonergan, Insight, p. 475. 18On intellectual conversion as self-appropriation, see Lonergan, Method in Theo!ogy, pp. 238-240. ~gSee Robert Doran, Subject and Psyche: Ricoeur, Jung, and the Search for Foundations (Washington, D. C.: University Press of Ainerica. 1977), especially pp. 240-246~ Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I / 51)5 are related to one's images and symbols, to one's questions and insights, to one's beliefs and ideas. In other words, one can have a quite profound and genuinely self-transcendent interiority without being able to articulate one's inner life with any notable clarity and precision. We all know wonderful and holy people who are quite unsophisticated when it comes to self-knowl-edge, or who will put their self-knowledge in very common sense terms-- people who make at times heroic decisions, but who, when asked why they made this or that decision, or what went on in their minds and hearts which led them so to decide, can answer only, "I don't know; it just seemed to be the right thing to do." Such genuine self-transcendence without self-appropriation is by no means to be disparaged. It is the condition of most good and holy men and women down through the ages, the source of most that is good in human history. But there are factors at work, especially in our age, that seem to indicate that self-appropriatiot~, in addition to self-transcendence, is becom-ing ever more necessary if one wishes to choose responsibly, to judge reasonably, to inquire intelligently, or just if one wishes to know what God wants and does not want. Perhaps there was a time when common sense wisdom and homespun practicality were enough for most people. Perhaps, too, there was a time when the only addition to common sense that some people needed was a good dose of theoretical understanding that was basically in harmony with the Gospel. But there are a number of indications that would seem to argue persuasively that we are now living in a world where self-transcendence, backed up by a common sense framework, or even by a cogent and brilliant theory, is simpl~, not enough; where religious and moral conversion must be complemented by intellectual and psychic conversion; where self-transcendence must be aided and helped, complemented and augmented, by self-appropriation, by precise and even technical self-knowledge, by an ability to articulate just what is going on in one's "little black box." If this be the case, then spiritual transformation today is a matter not only of growing self-transcendence, but also of ever more precise and technical self-knowledge. What are some of the indications that would back up this conviction that I share with Lonergan? Let me talk first about the insufficiency of common sense, and then about the ambiguity of theory. And let me do so within the context of the Church's recent pronounced recognition that the promotion of justice is a constitutive element in the preaching of the Gospel. The paper that issued from the 1971 Synod of Bishops, "Justice in the World," and the statement of Pope Paul VI, Octagesima Adveniens, mark the beginnings, I believe, of a substantial leap forward in the Church's social, political, and economic insight and praxis. One of the few public statements that Pope John Paul I had a chance to make was to the effect that we need a new and worldwide economic order. The achievement of that 506 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 order, I believe, is going to demand that we take our stand, and that we enable others to take their stand, not on practical common sense, and not on theory, but on the self-appropriation of our interiority and especially of our orientation to value. Why do I say this? Well, let us treat common sense first, however briefly. One of the cha~'acteristics of practica.I common se.nse is that it not only is incapable of.treating complex, long-range, and ultimate issues and results, but also that it resentfully brushes aside and ignores any attempts to raise questions that are concerned with such issues. It has the world's work to do. and it cannot be bothered by questions that would take time away from doing that work.z° The person exclusively operating from prac-tical common sense is concerned only with "getting the job don~i." Every-thing else mo.tivation, rationale, social organization, interpersonal communication--is oriented to that end. The question of whether the jo.b is worth doing at all. or whether the most expedient way of. doing it is also the most authentic way, is,a bother, yes, but more than that: it is a threat, a subversive question t, hat could overturn the ~ntire project. Rejection pre-cisely of such kinds of questions is what is responsible for the fact that our objective world-situation today can be characterized in terms of opposed totalitarianisms: the totalitarianism of the multinational corporation, pred-icated on the assumption of the need of automatic progress and expansion; and the totalitarianism of the communist state, rooted in the assumption that class conflict can bring the social o, rder into harmony with what is right.2~ Both myths neglect the fact that there are religious, personal, and cultural values that must be pursued in an integral fashion if there is to be a just social order that really provides for the basic needs of all the mem-bers of a society. In both systems, however much theory may. be involved in their establishment, we see operative the bias of practical common sense against the kinds of questions that must be asked if the job is to be done, not only expediently, but also humanely, genuinely, authetically. The ques-tion of integrity is. not just overlooked, but actively repudiated and re-pressed. _ Nor is theory sufficient to reestablish the significance of that question. For there are theories that support the question, but there are other theories that discredit it. The theories of B. F. Skinner or of orthdox Freudian psychoanalysis are just as coherent, just as thorough, just as all-encom-passing, and, for many,just as convincing, as are the theories of a Christian philosophy and theology. The Church's reliance on theory as the ground of praxis arose in the Middle Ages, more specifically with scholastic philosophy. One of the interesting things about that period, though, is that there were not many ~°See Lonergan, Insight, pp. 225-242. ~lbid. Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: theories from.which to choose, and there was not all that much to be learned in order to piece together a convincing theory. Even the disputes in the world of.theory did not touch, as they do today, on the really basic issues, such as the existence of God, the fact of revelation, the ethical end of the human person, the value of a virtuous life, and so on. Right down into the Renaissance, there was so little to be learned that it was possible for one person to be at once an artist, a natural scientist, and a man of practical affairs and we have Leonardo da Vinci to prove it. The need for specialization to master one tiny dimension of reality is a distinctly modern phenomenon. And while one is spending most of one's time specializing in one's own area, one's contemporaries are adding theory upon theory in their specialized domains. And these theories sometimes contradict one another on the most fundamental issues, on issues that every developing adult must confront. But how is one to take a stand, if one has to devote all of one's energies to his specialization? There are issues on which we must judge and on which we must decide if we are to live a human life. Yet there is simply too much to be learned before we can judge and decide.22 Unless we find a ground beyond theory--for it will not do just to fall back on common sense--our situation becomes one of hopeless relativism. It is my contention that this ground-beyond-theorydies in the self-appropriation of human interiority. This point about the need for,a quite technical self-appropriation can be developed at great length; we do not have space to do that here. The point I wish to make in the present context ,is that only through such self-appropriation can one discover the precise relation that obtains between re,!igio~us, personal, and cultural values on the one hand, and the social value of a just economic and political order on the other hand. And one needs to discover these relations, not simply in the abstract, as through some theory of value ,"but in the concrete order in which one is called upon to judge, to decide, and to act. And so I return to my general statement: Christian spiritual transformation is a matter of self-transcendence that, at a certain point, calls fo'r a movement to self-appropriation. Christian spiritual development is a matter of ongoing cbnversion, and ongoing con-version means today not only religious and moral, but also intellectual and p~sychic conversion. The Levels of Consciousness There are five levels of operations that one discovers when one enters upon the project of the self-appropriation of interiority.2"~ Inner and outer sensations, memories, andimages constitute the level of empirical presen- 22Lonergan, "Dimensions of Meaning," in Collection, pp. 252-267. 23On the levels of consciousness, see Lonergan, Method in Theology, Chapters One and Four. Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 tations. These empirical presentations are organized by understanding, which is a second level of consciousness. For example, if you are reading without any understanding of what I am saying, you are operating at the first, empirical level of operations. If you are reading and understanding what I am saying, your understanding is organizing the empirical presenta-tions into some kind of intelligible whole. You are processing what you hear by the operations that go on in your "little black box." You are operating not only at the first, but also at the second level of o~perations. If, moreover, you not only understand what I am saying but are also trying to judge whether it is correct or not, you have added a third level of operations, where we either assent to, or disagree with, something we have understood. These three levels of operations are what make us to be human knowers. Lonergan calls these levels experience, understanding, and judgment. But we are not just'knowers. There are times in our lives when, after we have made a judgment, "This is t~rue," a further question arises, "What am I going to do about it?" Then we have to decide. And decision constitutes a fourth level of operations. Finally, there is another whole dimension of interior reality that is not dealt with by speaking of the empirical, intelligent, rational, and decisional levels of consciousness. There is a fifth level of consciousness that is a matter of being addressed by and in relation to God. There is the experience of mystery. There is the reality of falling in love with God. There is prayer, worship, mystical experience, the dark night of the soul, the living flame of love, the search for and discovery of the holy, the gift of the divinely originated solution to the problem of evil. Religious self-appropriation, obviously, is a matter of articulating what is going on at that fifth level of consciousness. The means of discovering oneself in one's relation to God are many: there are spiritual direction, retreats, various methods of keeping a journal, and so on. But what is important for us also to appr6priate is the manner in which experience at that fifth level of consciousness has an effect on other levels. The influence of God's grace moves downward in our consciousness. It changes our values (fourth level), so that it provides us with entirely new orientations for our decisions, and enables them to be more self-transcendent. It changes our view of the world, our vision, the way we understand and judge things (second and third levels), and provides us with a determination to under-stand thoroughly and to judge reasonably; and it brings about a harmony and peace at the level of inner sensation, a peace that "the world cannot give," so that our inner being and our bodies rest securely in the love of God. Symbols, Feelings, and Drama Such is the pattern of interiority that is discovered when one enters upon the way of self-appropriation: five levels of consciousness, each related to Jungian Psychology and Christian Spirituality: I / 509 the other, whether we move from~below upwards, or from above down-wards. And now, finally, we are able to locate with precision the region where Jung's discoveries become significant for spiritual development, especially for self-appropriation. For all of the operations that we are talking about--sensing, imaging, remembering (first level), inquiring, understand-ing, putting our understanding into words (second level), reflecting, weigh-ing the evidence, judging (third level), deliberating, deciding, acting (fourth level), praying, worshiping (fifthlevel)--all of these operations are per-meated by feelings. We have feelings about the objects of all of these operations. The operations themselves are always dramatic. When you try to understand, it is because you are confused. When you succeed in un-derstanding, the confusion ceases and you experience satisfaction, maybe even excitement. When you want to know whether you understand cor-rectly, it is because you are not satisfied with just a set of bright ideas; you want to get things right and not just go about spouting opinions. When you have to make a decision, the drama of the situation stands out clearly. Some decisions can be agonizing. All decisions have a great deal of affectivity accompanying them, for we are dealing in decisions with questions of value. And value is something we feel before ever we judge about it or act on it.z4 Finally, fifth-level religious experience has those peculiar sets of feelings that we call "consolations" and "desolations." In sum, we are not just structured conscious operators. We are~also the subjects of a drama, pre-cisely in and through these operations. There is a story to our operating, because there are feelings that permeate all of those operations. Let us focus a bit more on this drama, because it is more complicated than I have so far indicated. In addition to the desire to understand, there is also aflight from understanding (second level). I can flee insight just as passionately as I can pursue it. Moreover, I can resist the truth just as strongly as I can intend it (third level). I can try to escape responsible decision and live a life of ease or of drifting or of hiding my talents, just as persistently as I can conscientiously examine every situation to find the best course of action (fourth level). I can flee contact with God just as passion-ately as I can seek to find him and do his will (fifth level). ~ There are feelings that permeate not only genuine performance at each of the five levels, but also inauthentic actions at each step of the way. The ultimate drama of my life, in fact, is this drama of authenticity and inau-thenticity. The authentic person is the person who pursues understanding, who seeks truth, who responds to what is. really worthwhile, and who searches for God and his will. The inauthentic person is the person who flees understanding, who runs fi:om the truth, who resists further questions 241bid., pp. 31-33. 510 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 /4 about his or her decisions, and who tries to escape God. And those feelings never go away. They are present in the entire drama. They are precisely what make it so dramatic. What. then. are feelings? Feelings are energy-become-conscious. Feel-ings are a~matter of psychic energy. Feelings are the basic sensitive compo-nent of every human operation. Feelings make of spirituality a story. To know one's feeling is to begin to tell one's own story. Feelings are the drive and momentum of the life of the human spirit. Feelings join the spirit to the body in a conscious unity. There is one further aspect to this matter. Feelings always enter con-sciousness through being connected with some representation. Now, the, most basic form of representation lies in symbols. A symbol, Lonergan says, is an image of a real or imaginary object that evokes a feeling or is evoked by a feelingZS; what this means is that there is never a feeling without a symbolic meaning; never a symbol without a feeling. To name one's feelings is to discover the dynamic images, the symbols, that are associated with them. To have insight into one's feelings is to understand the symbolic association. To tell one's story is tomarrate the course of one's elemental symbolizing. And where does one's elemental symbolizing occur in its purest form, untainted by the biases that. in waking life, can lead us to distort our story? The place of elemental symbolizing is in our dreams. It is in the dream that we first are conscious, and it is in the dream that we find a "story" going forward that we cannot distort without being aware that we are doing so.z6 If we want to know our -story" the story of insight, the story of judgment, the story of decision, and the story of prayer--we can find it in our dreams. There is a psychic conversion that puts us into contact with that story. It affects us deeply once it has occurred. For it enables us to judge ourselves in our waking life as authentic or inauthentic in our pursuit of understanding, in our.seeking of truth, in our decisions, and in our search for God. In the next article I will situate Jung's psychology of individuation within this context of the discussion of self-transcendence, and, especially, of self-appropriation. In the third article, though, I will use this same frame-work to criticize .lung's psychology. For Jung did not have an accurate understanding of the structure of our operations as human subjects~ur understanding, our judgments, our decisions, and our search for God. His basic philosophical and theological standpoint did not take its stand on a notion of authenticity as self-transcendence. And this basic flaw renders his contributions to Christian spiritual .development very ambiguous until these contributions are transposed into some such context as I have tried to indicate in the present article. 251bid., p. 64. 26See Doran, "Dramatic Artistry in the Third Stage of Meaning," forthcoming in Lonergan Workshop 11, edited by Frederick Lawrence (Missoula: Scholars Press, 1979). "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond"-- Reflections on Death and Resurrection John Renard, S.J. Father Renard is on the faculty of St. Louis,University. A previous article of Father Renard was entitled "Islamic Spirituality" which appeared in the November, 1978 issue. With:the bitter:sweet clarity that came to him in his illness, ~ohn Donne wrote, "Therefore that He may raise, the Lord throws down.''~ The poet expresse_s a wisidom most of us would rather flee than surrender to; bui our flight from mortality is not always and necessarily a flight toward immortal-ity. Ernest Becket explains the dynamic of the "Jonah Syndrome" by saying that the fear of life often menaces human beings as relentlessly as the fear of death. The "Jonah Syndrome" involves escape from both the apex and the nadir of human potential. It issues in a frantic sear.ch for control of one's destiny to the smallest detail; it deems abstinence from the heights of ecstasy a fair price to pay 'for a shorter fall; it shuns the awesome lest it happen upon the terrible,z Both extremes of the fear ~eem to be rooted in a dread of extinction, whether as annihilation wrought by weakness confronting the ultimate ~This and all other selections of poetry quoted in this paper may be found in the.Norton Anthology of Poetry ('Revised, New York, 1975). "Hymn to God My God, in My Sickness," p. 251. 2Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death (New York, 1973). Term coined by Abraham Maslow; pp. 48 ft. 511 512 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 power, or as humiliation wrought by shame in the face of the ultimate glory. I would like to explore both of these aspects of the "Jonah Syndrome." First we will look at the extreme that presents itself more immediately, and which is a more readily recognizable feature of human experience. In that context we will talk of two preeminent characteristics of the experience of Weakness, Shame, and Mortality. Then we will turn to the experience of power, glory, and immortality. In both instances our guideg will be the struggle of great poets to comprehend, the insight of Paul into the incompre-hensible, and the example of Jesus' surrender to the "impossibility" of a life lived across the full spectrum, from being to nothingness and back. Weakness, Shame, and Mortality At the beginning of his chapter on "The Terror of Death," Ernest Becket quotes Sigmund Freud: Is it not for us to confess that in our civilized attitude towards death we are once more living psychologically beyond your means, and must reform and give truth its due? Would it not be better to give death the place in actuality and in our thoughts which properly belongs to it, and to yield a little more prominence to that unconscious attitude towards death which we have hitherto so carefully suppressed? This hardly seems indeed a greater achievement, but rather a backward step., but it has the merit of taking somewhat more into accou.nt the true state of affairs,a Two factors seem most to contribute to a sense of impotence and of the inability to achieve quite enough in one lifespan--and hence to the half-wish for immortality. They are, first, the feeling of time's inexorability, and, second, the conviction that to make a lasting name for myself I must make it for me alone, me the autonomous, me the independent. These twin cliffs of mortality both spell weakness and shame, for the sheer faces of time and of di~sire for self-fulfilment cannot b~ scaled head-on. Nevertheless, the summit is not entirely unattainable. It merely requires the acceptance of "time" and the rejection of encapsulation in oneself. John Donne writes in his "S.atire on Religion:" He's not of none, nor worst, that seeks the best, To 'adore, or scorn an image, or protest, May be all bad; doubt wisely; in strange way To stand inquiring right, is not to stray; To sleep, or run wrong, is. On a huge hill, Craggrd and steep, Truth stands, and he that will Reach her, about must, and about must go, Ahd what th' hill's suddenness resists win so; Yet strive so, that before age, death's twilight, thy soul rest, for none can work in that night. Hard deeds, the body's pains; hard knowledge, too "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond" / 513 The mind's endeavors reach, and mysteries Are like the sun, dazzling, yet plain to all eyes.4 The poet does not advocate pretending the mountain does not exist, nor does he counsel over-confidence as to its vincibility. He does suggest that the most important of attainments are precisely not those which can be attained, but rather those which are allowed to be apparent. It is a question of not denying the obvious, but' also of not taking the obvious for granted. Donne suggests further that mysteries are the very stuff of this life: one had best confront them now, for they set at death's twilight. Time itself is not the poet's nemesis here; the prospect of an untimely death is. As we shall see in the second section of this paper, John Donne found a solution to the problem of time's "unperturbed pace," in his hope of resurrection. As other poets attest, however, not everyone escapes the conviction that time is a vacuum. ,' The Emptiness of Time Many a great poet has written of the vain struggle to deny the marauding burglar of time access to his house. Scarcely a Shakespearean sonne~ but talks of Time's "fell hand," and his "bending sickle's compass," and of the "best jewel from Time's chest., hid." Time is "sluttish,'~ "wasted," "balmy.''5 The young John Milton reflected, "How soon. hath Time, the subtle thief of youth, stolen on his wing my three and twentieth year!" Time was for him, along with the will of heaven, his guide toward his mortal end.6 John Keats, also twenty-three, wrote in a similar vein of his fears that he might "cease to be before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain." His fearful reflections led him to stand alone on the shore of the wide world till Love and Fame sank to nothingness in the face of Time's inevitability.~ At twenty-seven, W. B. Yeats wrote "The Lamentation of the Old Pen-sioner." The aged and discarded man sits sheltered from the rain under a tree and reminisces about how he had once held the center ~f attention in fireside chats "Of love or politics, ere time transfigured me." Though young men once more prepare for combat, the pensioner's "contemplations are of Time thht has transfigured me." Though no woman now turns to look upon him, 'he summons up remembrances of loves past and concludes, "I spit in the face of Time that has transfigured me.''s In his magnificent "Fern Hill," the thirty-two year old Dylan Thomas wrote of his heedless youth when: Nothing i cared, in the lamb-wfiite days, that time would take me Up to the swallow throng.ed loft by the shadow of my hand, 'tNAP p. 246. 5Sonnets 64, 116, 65, 55, 106, 107, NAP pp. 212 ft. SNAP p. 323 rNAP p. 700 SNAP p. 918 514 / Review for Religious, Volume38, 1979 / 4 In the moon that is always rising, Nor that riding to sleep I should hear him (Time) fly with the high fie!ds And Wake to the farm forever fled from the childless 'land~ Oh as I was young and easy in the mercy of his means, Time held me green and dying Though 1 sang in my chains like the sea) ,~ Thomas compressed an entire lifetime into the image of a day, born with the birth of the sun and dying forever under an ever-rising moon. Time was his master: the poet both knew it too,well and, denied it. He was green, but dying; fettered, but singing as though free as the sea. ~ The Fullness of Time Jesus, too/was keenly aware_through his life of the. imminence of an auspicious, even ominous, hour. John's Gospel portrays Jesus early in his public ministry as conscious that hishour would come soon, but had not yet (Jn 7:6 and 30). His later recognition that "the hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified" occurs at.the theological, literary, and even geo-graphical center of John's Gospel (Jn 12:23). It is preceded immediately by. the raising of Lazarus and Mary's anointing of Jesus for burial, .and it is followed immediately by the analogy of the grain of wheat that ~must die. in order to give life. In the Synoptics, too, this crucial hour's striking marks the turning point in Jesus~ life, the fullness of his time. In the Synoptics, however, the theological, literary, and geographical pivot is signalled by Peter',s confession.of Jesus as the Christ and Jesus' decisive reorientation for the journey to Jerusalem (Mr 16:13if; Mk 8:27ff;, Lk 9:18ff). Mark, Matthew, and Luke indicate that it is Peter who is troubled, most of all, by Jesus' prediction of his death, and who tries to dissuade Jesus from his intended course. John, on the other hand, more insistent than the SynOptics on Jesus' awareness of his "tim~ and hour," emphasizes Jesus' own anguish that his time has now come: "Now is-my soul troubled. And what shall Isay? 'Father, save me from this hour'? No, for this purpose I have come.to this hour's' (Jn .12:27). It is an hour of glor.y, but not for Jesus "personally." It is the hour in which his Father's name will be glorifie~l again (Jn 12:28), At this juncture we turn to the second factor that .makes human mortality seem so impotent and dishon6rable--the forever frus-trated yet die-hard desire to make a name for oneself alone. Making a Name: The Delusion of Self-Proclaimed Glory Several years ago a cartoon in a national magazine depicted a handsome young couple in togas seated in an idyllic lakeside glen. The young man gazes into the mirror-smooth lake, and the lady asks, "Is there., someone else, Narcissus? . Everyone," notes Ernest Becket, "enjoys a working aNAP pp. 1166-7 "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond" / 515 amount of basic narcissism,"~° which amounts to a drive for self-protection and self-creation. The more that drive becomes the central life project, however, the moreoenslaving and suicidal it becomes. Chapter two of the Letter to the Philippians is the New Testament's most remarkable.state-ment of Jesus' surrender of his own name for the glorification of his Father's name.~::'He did not count equality with God a'thing to be grasped., but emptied~ ~himself, taking the form of a slave being born in human likeness. And being found in human form he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, death on a cross': (Ph 2:6-8). By "becoming sin who kflew no sin" (2 Co 5:21), Jesus engaged in the ultimate ec-stasy. He rejected the Godly power which alone is immune to the need for striving, in favor of human weakness with its constant struggle for freedom. He rejected the Godly glory which alone is~truly autonomous and peerless, in favor of the shame of common slavery. Power and glory in God are Godly; in human~beings they are merely the produc't of self-aggrandizing,, narcissistic wishfulness. Power and glory in God are His awesomeness and attractiveness; in human beings~they are a pathetic grasp-ing after invulnerability and control, needlessness and Unrelatedness, free-dom from risk.~ That, in the. words of Shakespeare, amounts to "Th' expense of spirit in a waste of shame. . lust in action. In his choice of slavery and emptiness Jesus had even to divest himself of the faintest hope that it would all' have world-redeeming consequences. He had to abandon himself unreservedly to the powerlessness and anonym-ity of the human condition. The colossal irony of his surrender is that, because Jesus forsook his, own name and status, "God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that atthe name of Jesus,every knee should bend., and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father" (Ph 2:9-11). A classic of Chinese tradition called the Tao te Ching spe.aks simply and insightfully of the nature of this paradox: Reality is all-embracing. To be all-embracing is to be self-less. To be self-less is to be all-pervading. To be all-pervading is to be transcendent.~3 Paul elucidates further~ the'implications ~of Christ's self-lessness ~or us. Thb',~ib~e~'ness of self-~areservation must "yield to the folly' of the Cross, "For~tlie. fo61ishness~ of God is wiser than humankind, and the Weakness of l°op. cit., p. 22 ~For further excellent discussion of power and autonomy, see John Dunne's The Way'of All the Earth (New York, 1972), pp. 4-26. ~aSonnet 129, NAP 216 ~aChang Chung-yuan, Tao: A New Way of Thinking (New York, 1975), p. 42. 51!5 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 God is stronger than humankind." Self-proclaimed power and glory must yield to a confession of "shame and confession," as in the meditations on sin in St. Ignatius' Spiritual Exercises, for "God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are" (1 Co .1 and 2, quoting 1:25, 27). Jesus' own acquiescence in the arrival of his "hour" and his preference for namelessness led him to the folly of the Cross, that our "faith might rest not in human wisdom, but in the power of God" (1 Co 2:5). And all the heavenly host shouted: "Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and giory.~. And the four living creatures said, 'Amen'" (Rv 5:12, 14). Power, Glory and Immortality If reflection on the ravages of time and change is a common theme in the great poets, musing on what may lie beyond death are no less prominent. "Death once dead," says the Bard, there's no more dying then.''14 Shake-spearc's is a rather cold resignation in that poem. A more hopeful note is heard in Wordsworth's "Intimations of Immortality": 0 Joy! that in our embers Is something that doth live, That nature yet remembers What was so fugitive.15 Another facet of "nature's memory" is the subject of "The Root Cellar'" by the twentieth-century poet Theodore Roethke. Observing nature's stubborn refusal to become extinct, he tells of how in a lowly earthen dungeon all things strain after survival. In that cellar "Nothing would give up life: Even the dirt kept breathing a small breath."16 In "The Far Field," Roethke writes of how "All finite things reveal infinitude." I am renewed by death, thought of my death, The dry scent of a.dying garden in September, The wind fanning the ash of a low fire. What I love is near at hand, Always, in earth and air.1~ The same W. B. Yeats who had written about the Pensioner who spat in the face of Time, later wrote a play called The Resurrection. The p~lay climaxes with a song about the demise of the ancient rites at~the appearance of the Risen Christ who now stands on the stage. The song is a different kind of reflection on how the passing of time exhausts human power and glory to make way for Christ's power and glory: t4Sonnet 146, NAP :p. 217 ~SNAP p. 603 ~6NAP p. 1131 ~TNAP p. 1138-9 "Matchwood, Immortal Diamond" / 517 Everything that man esteems Endures a moment or a day.: Love's pleasure drives his love away. The painter's brush consumes his dreams; The herald's cry, the soldier's tread Exhaust his glory and his might: Whatever flames upon the night Man's own resinous heart has fed.Is Few poets have prayed in our tongue more fervently than John Donne. In the"Holy Sonnets" Donne vacillates between terror in the face of death and the hope that death will lose its sting and concede victory to the Resurrection. "Thou hast made me, and shall Thy work decay?" he asks his Lord.~° Ever awareof his need to ask forgiveness, the poet exhorts the angels to trumpet into resurrection all mortal humanity "At the round earth's imagined corners.''2° Donne then becomes a seventeenth century Paul in one of his best known sonnets: Death, be not proud, though some have call6d thee Mighty and dreadful, for thou are not so; For those whom thou thinkst thou dost overthrow Die not, poor Death, nor yet canst thou kill me. From rest and sleep, which but thy pictures be, Much pleasure; then from thee much more must flow, And soonest our best men with thee dO go, Rest of their bones, and soul's delivery. Thou 'art slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men, And dost with poison, war, and sickness dwell, And poppy' or charms can make us sleep as well And better than thy stroke; why swellst thou then? One short sleep past, we wake eternally ' And death shall be no more; Death, thou shalt die.2~ For the original Paul, all that the poe.ts have hinted at, pined for, groped after, and, perhaps, found, is embodied in Christ as image of the invisible God. Christ "reflects the glory of God" and "sustains the universe by his word of power" (Heb 1:3). By that word we are "strengthened with all power, according to the glory of his might" (Col l:l l). The "small breath" of the earth in Roethke's "Root Cellar" is the treasure we carry "in earthen vessels, to show that the transcendent power belongs to God and not to us." We carry in our bodies "the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in oOr bodies" (2 Co 4:7, 10-11). Our universal experience of being "thrown down" in the wasting of our outer nature can-not quench'Wordsworth's "embers" of renewal in our inner nature (2 Co 4:16). It is merely a thorn in the flesh, a reminder that God's "power.is made ~SNAP pp. 927-8 19Sonnet I, NAP p. 248 2°Sonnet 7, NAP p. 249 ~Sonnet 10, NAP p. 250 51~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 perfect in weakness." For that reason Paul could happily boast of his weakness so that the power of Christ might rest on him (2 Co 12:9). The exultant herald's cry and the victorious soldier's tread exhaust their power and glory. Christ's defeat on the cross manifests his all the more, "For he was crucified in weakness, but lives by the power of God." As a result, Christ now deals with us not in weakness, butin power (2 Co 13:3-4). Paul therefore prays that he be able~ to accept his humanity and its impo-tence, in order to~ know Christ and the, power of his resurrection, which will "change our lowly body to be like his glorious body, by,the power which enables him even to subject all things to himself" (Ph 3:8-H, 21). The Apostle prays for,us, too, that we might share in that power and glory and life. Speaking of his own suffering as the glory of the Ephesian Christians, Paul prays That acc6rding to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power interiorly through his Spirit. ; that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have power to comprehend., the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all we ask or think, to him be glory . (Ep 3:13-21). Paul further clarifies the nature of the revivifying power of Christ's love as he describes the different degrees of glory proper to the various earthly and heavenly bodies. Using the same metaphor of sowing and growth suggested in Ephesians in the words "rooted in love," the author writes in 1 Co 15:42-3: "What is sown is perishable, what is raised is imperishable. It is sown in shame, but raised in glory. It is sown in weakness, but raised in power." The full mystery and many-sided paradox of how weakness becomes power; shame glory, and mortality immortality is beautifully summed up in John Heni'y Newman's Parochial and Plain Sermon entitled "The Cross of Christ, the Measure of the World." Newman says that the Cross has brought together and made consistent all that seemed discordant and aimless. It has taught'us how to live, how to use this world, what to expect, what t~ desire, what to hope. It is the tone into which all the ~trains of this world's music are ultimately to be resolved.22 To resolve th~se discordant strains, Chris~ endu,red,every paradox. To teach us how to live with ambiguity and in~.security, Christ put mystery in place Qf what we would otherwise try to solve as a mind-teasing puzzle. To unburden us of the curse of the Law, Christ became accursed o~n the Tree. To obtain for us that which we most grasp at, Christ unhanded ~l~i. To transform our folly into wisdom, Christ became foolishness. To free us from sin, Christ became sin. To loose the bonds of our servitude, Christ became 22Parochial and Plain Sermons, London, 1875, Vol. 6, p. 85. ° ~ "Matchwood, Immortal.Diamond" / 519 a slave. To empower our impotence, Christ became weakness itself. To ransom us from bankruptcy, Christ became poverty. To glorify our dis-honor, Christ became shame. To fill our vacuum, Christ emptied himself. All of which prompted G. M. Hopkins to write in his poem, "That Nature is a Heraclitean Fire and of the Comfort of the Resurrection": "In a flash, at a trumpet crash, ! am at once what Christ is, since he was what I am, and this Jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood, immortal diamond, is immortal diamond.''23 23NAP p. 905 Now Available As Reprint An Apostolic Spirituality~for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image Frank X. Reitzel, C.R. Father Reitzel is a member of the Congregation of the Resurrection who has spent most of his active years in his priesthood teaching English literature at the high school, university and seminary levels. He has also done considerable work in counseling, spiritual direction and retreat work. Presently he is on a sabbatical leave doing research study at the Gregorian University in Rome. His address on leaving Rome will be: Resurrection College; Westmount Road North, Waterloo; Ontario, Canada N2L 3G7. Father Reitzel hopes that the present article will form the chapter of a projected book on the concept and image of the Temple as a means of prayer. Part I he Odyssey is most often mentioned as the classic example in literature of the use of thenliterary device or symbol of a journey within which to frame a story. It is important, however, to remember, that every journey has a goal or end to be attained. For Ulysses it was to return to his homeland and there to lay rightful claim to his kingdom, his queen and his home. The traditional name for such a story is epic. St. Luke's Greek cultural back-ground is sufficient evidence on which to base a presupposition that he was familiar with this story form of a journey ending in a kingdom reclaimed. Both his Gospel account and The Acts of the Apostles have epic qualities built on the basic image of a journey. The intention of this paper, however, is to focus attention on the goal of that journey, the Temple at Jerusalem, as Luke uses it in his Gospel in order to show that an awareness of this image can aid a reflective and prayerful reading of the text of the third gospel. The journey theme and the Temple image are equally evident in Acts; but I shall refer to these only in passing. 520 St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image / 521 The Journey It is now generally accepted that the journey theme is an important factor, in the literary structure of Luke's version of the story of the life, death and resurrection of Jesus of Nazareth. In every epic the arena of the journey is vast, sweeping from one end of the known world to the other; for Jesus it really begins in heaven and ends there. The action that takes place on earth within the limits of time and space tells of his journey from Nazareth to Jerusalem. At Jerusalem is the focal point and goal of the journey, the Temple. By using principles of literary criticism we can discover that Luke has artistically placed his references to the Temple at significant places in his narrative. I suggest that the position of these references clearly and deliber-ately divides the text of the Gospel, for artistic and meditative purposes, into a five-part structure that is similar to that of classical epics and dramas. Paradise Lost, for example, is constructed in twelve books or movements in which the poet John Milton retells the tragic story of the loss of paradise by Adam and Eve. The number twelve, referring to the twelve months of the year, symbolizes a full-life span or a life's journey. In his second epic, Paradise Regained, Milton uses the more compressed five-movement structure to tell the story of.Christ's cosmic struggle with Satan. In every case the artist freely chooses what he considers to be the proper and fitting frame for his work or story. In order to enhance his retelling of the inspiring story of Jesus that had been-handed on to him Luke employs a similar five-part structure. Later, in his account of the beginnings of the Church, he describes the missionary journeys of Peter and Paul in a two-part structure similar to that of many modern dramas. Moreover, in both works Luke uses carefully placed refer-ences to the Temple at Jerusalem as a central image which unifies the structure and the story of the Gospel as Luke presents it to us. An aware-ness of this image and its function can aid us in using Luke's Gospel as a guide to prayer and a means of personal growth. Reliable Scripture scholarship has shown that the author of the third Gospel was a man of Greek birth and culture who wrote for a Greek Christian audience. Like Paul (arid like ourselves) Luke had not been a contemporary eye-witness of Jesus. He had learned and been inspired by the story of Jesus as he had received it from the apostolic eye-witnesses such as Peter. He wrote to Theophilus, to persons of similar culture and background, that is, to all those like Theophilus in the world. But if we are his audience why does he use the center of Jewish worship as one of his main images? The Temple Image Temples have played a pa.rt in almost every culture; but they differ in one significant feature from the Temple at Jerusalem. A temple for all 522 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 pagans (gentiles) was a holy place; it was the house of the gods. But for the Israelites, Yahweh, the One True God, actually manifested his presence in his chosen dwelling place on Mount Zion. The Israelites were prepared and they were often called upon to protest that belief with their lives. They did not just casually believe this--they knew that God dwelt in their midst. No matter where he might be, the devout Israelite could face east to the Temple and enter into prayerful communion.with his God; he could experience an immediate and personal realization of the presence of Yahweh. The ideal, of course, was to make the journey to Jerusalem and there actually present oneself to God, as he had. commanded: "Three times a year all your men-folk must present,themselves before the Lord Yahweh" (Ex 23:17)? Similar references to. this belief and practice in the Old Testament are numerous. The visions of many of the prophets took place in the Temple. It was there that Isaiah (Is 6) and Jeremiah. (Jr 1) w.ere commissioned by God to go forth on their prophetic journeys to .his people. The prophet Amos had condemned the unjust and unprayerful uses that some people made of the place of worship, emphasizing, thereby, that God',s presence, not the bricks and mortar, was of importance. Whenever his people turned to false gods and rejected him, Yahweh abandoned them and their Temple. Each time in history that the bricks-and-mortar temple was destroyed it graphically symbolized Yahweh's displeasure with his ~.people and his ab-sence from them. Through the psalmist as through the prophets, Yahweh insisted that the Temple was sacred because he chose to dwell there. He promised to be with his p.eople as long as they were faithi'ul to him; if they betrayed him, he would withdraw his presence and the Temple, no longer sanctified, would be destroyed. That history and thai faith, were a part of the Judaeo-Christian heritage handed on to Luke. That is evidenced by the fact that his Gospel ends,with the statement that praying and worshipping in the Temple at Jerusalem continued to be a normal practice of Christ's followers after the ascension. And at the beginning of Acts Luke indicates that the same mentality and practices continued to prevail. The disciples, he tells us, went up to the Temple each day at the prescribed liturgical hours to pray (Ac 2:46; 3:1). A shift was beginning to evolve, however; Luke says that for "'the breaking of the bread" they met in private homes. They were Christian-Jews; though a gradual change was "taking place in their worship, they had n6t broken away from their Hebrew. Temple-centered roots. That break would Occur later. But at the time of Luke's writing the Temple was still regarded as the House of Prayer, the place where God made himself manifest among his l~eople. ~Biblical quotations in this article have been made from The Jerusalem Bible (New York: Doubleday & Co., 1966); and from The R. S. 'V. Interlinear Greek-English New Testament, by Rev. Alfred Marshall (London: Samuel Bagster and Sons Ltd. 1978). St. Luke's 'Use of the Temple Image / 523 The Literary Structure It is perfectly acceptable in literature to use poetic devices to emphasize certain features of the text. Luke artistically uses repeated references to the Temple.in order to draw the listener or reader to a more reflective and prayerful attention,to the words and the story action o,f his Gospel. Luke's story of Jesus of Nazareth, which has as one of its themes the struggle between good and evil, is based on a five-part.division. An aware-ness~ of this structure and its main themes can assist us in a reflective and prayerful reading of this account of the gospel. It is important to note that this dramatic and reflective outline (given below) does not run counter to nor violate the exacting topical outline that exegetes suggest for study of the text. This literar~y and meditative approach emph~asizes the dramatic quali-ties of the cosmic struggle between Christ and Satan and recognizes the artistic unity in Luke's use 9f the Temple as a focal image. An Outline For Meditation For careful study of the text, commentaries generally outline Luke's Gospel in the following way:2 ~ (1) The Prologue 1:1-4 (2) The Infancy Narrative 1:5--2:52 (3) The Preparation for Ministry 3:1--4:13 (4) The Galilean Minis~try 4:14---9:50 (5) The Journey Na~ative .~ 9:51--19:28 (6) The Jerusalem Ministry 19:29--21:38 (7) The Passion and Glorification 22:1--24:53 ¯ This can be a valugble g~u.ide to discover what Luke tells us about Jesus, his teaching and 'his ministry. It acknowledges the importance of the jour-ney, but only as a pan,of the outli.ne rather than as a theme throughout the entire gospel. According to his introduction, however,. Luke wrote for a prayerful and reflective audience in an artistic way so as to spark the imagination, the feelings,jthe.heart of his readers and to focus attention on the Person of Jesus in order to open their ears and eyes to respond as fully as possible to the message of the Lord as Luke presents it to them. Jesus taught his disciples that his 'message is best heard in prayer and the graces to respond to it best received in prayer. For such a prayerful consideration and use of Luke's text of the gospel I suggest the following outline. PROLOGUE: 1:1-25 ' (a) Introduction: why and to whom he writes. (b) Milieu: time and pl~ce. 2James A. Michener, The Source (Greenwich, CT: Fawcett Publications, 1967), p. 266. 524 /Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979/4 Zachariah; the Temple scene, in the sanctuary. ACT I: Infancy: Prepare for life. Begins in the Temple: Pre-sentation. Introduces John the Baptist; then Jesus. Closes with the Temple scene. ACT II: Preparation For Mission: ~ Mission, decision, conflict. Career of John the Baptist; genealogy of Jesus. The temp-tations, ending with the Temple image. A hint that Jesus and Satan will meet again. ACT III: Journey and Ministry: Jesus, led by the Spirit, begins his journey toward Jerusalem; He commences his public teaching. A special mention of the Temple (18:10). The section closes with Jesus taking possession of the Temple. ACT IV: Temple and Contest: Jesus teaches daily in the Temple. His enemies plot to kill him. Example of the widow's offering. At night Jesus withdraws from the Temple to the Mount of Olives. 1:26-2:52 3:1-4:13 4:14-19:48 20:1-21:38 ¯ Act V: Conflict: 22:1-24:52a Passion, death and resurrection of Jesus. Signal phrase: "Satan enteri~d." Judas goes to the priests. Trial; condemnation; death. Veil of the Temple is torn. Resurrection and ascension. EPILOGUE: ~ 24:52b-53 The apostles begin their journey in the Tem-ple. The Good News for Prayer In my outline of Luke's gospel, I have indicated that each of the major divisions end witha'specific use of the image of the Temple. In every case of these references the use flows smoothly and naturally out of the thought and action of the story. Artistically, the Temple image serves the same purpose as a major refrain in a symphony or opera; the audience hears it in the background and is reminded~of a principal character or of the primary theme of the work. Like an organist, Luke is able to play on three manuals at once. He uses the image of the Temple, repeated at significant moments in his text, to weave into a unity the principal themes of the life story of Jesus of Nazareth. St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image / 595 The Temple image establishes the goal of the journey theme and gives it a continuity throughout the whole of the gospel as Luke presents it. Moreover, this image repeated at important instances in the narrative emphasizes and gives a continuity to the main theme of the story of Jesus: his life, death and resurrection. In the course of his journey to Jerusalem, Jesus makes allusions to and direct prophecies, of his death, and resurrec-tion, such as: "The. Son of Man" he said "is destined to suffer grievously, to be rejected by the elders and chief priests and scribes and to be put to death, and to be raised up on the , third day" (Lk 9:22). But it is the carefully placed references to the Temple that hold this theme of death and resurrection before our eyes throughout the text of this gospel. For at the end of each major section, designated in the outline above, when reference is made to the Temple something ends and something new begins; death and resurrection are symbolized. In the end the Temple of brick and mortar would be destroyed, as Jesus prophesied, to be replaced forever by the eternal Temple of the Risen Christ. Evidence in Greek Terms The literary prologue (1:9-25) ends with the priestly action of Zachariah in that sacred area of the Temple, the sanctuary, while the people wait outside praying. The events recorded in this episode are interpreted as a signal of the end of the Old Testament and the beginning of the New. It is significant that in the Greek text Luke uses the specific term "sanctuary" or "holy place" (naos) three times in this prologue as his reference to the Temple: (1:9;22). He does not use this term again until after Christ,s death on the cross when he, tells us dramatically, with the tearing of the veil of the "Temple" (naos), that the old has ended and the new has begun~(23:45). There are, however, some instances in the course of his narrative in which Luke makes reference to the Temple or to the sanctuary :with a more general Greek term "the house of God" (oikos theou), because the refer-ence at such times is not essential to the narrative structure. When, for example, Jesus speaks o.f. the prophet "who was murdered between the altar and the sanctuary" (Lk I1:5 l), Luke uses the Greek term, "the house of God" (oikos theos). When, however, the reference is made to the Temple proper and is essential to the narrative structure, he uses the precise Greek term the Temple (hieros). This is the word which he uses at the end of each of the major sections that I have designated as acts in the above outline, as well as in the last verse, the literary epilogue, of his gospel account. Accord, ing to scholars3 Luke.was following a reliable tradition in his use of these 3The Jerome Biblical Commentary, ed. Raymond E. Brown, Joseph A. Fitzmeyer, Roland E. Murphy (New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1968), p. 119, 44:19. (For subsequent notes this will be referred to as JBC.)--There is a°good outline of Luke's Gospel for meditative reading in The Gospel According to St. Luke. ed. Alois St6ger (London: Burns & Oates, 1969), two volumes. 526 / Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 Greek terms,, and should not be accused of inconsistency. Of importance in the present consideration,~ however, is Luke's use of the term "the Tem-ple" (hieros), with all its sacred and imaginative connotations from the Old Testament as well as its Christian ,associations with the life of Jesus. This is the" term which Luke uses when he refers to the Temple scene (2:46) with which he completes his narrative o'f~the infancy of Jesus. Simi-larly, he ends with this same Temple image what | have designated as Act II, which describes Jesus' preparation for his mission:" Jesus rejects the third temptation 6f Satan who had led him "to the pinnacle of the Temple" (4:9) and begins his public ministry. With one special excepiion (18:9-14), Luke does not use this precise term for the Temple again until the ehd of the third'section of his narrative (indicated as Act III)when Jesus enters the Temple and forcefully takes possession of it as his Father's house (19:45-46). In e~,ery case when Luke uses this term; we notice that there is an end and a beginning; the life-death-resurrection theme is symbolized in the Temple. At this part of the narrative (19:48) the actual suffering and death of Jesus are imminent, for the growing opposition of his enemies has become a calculated decision to destroy him. Throughout Act IV Jesus teaches daily in the Temple area (hieros); but at night for his own safety he withdraws to the Mount of Olives. He continueS to use the Temple for his mission, but he has begun to abandon it; it is no longer a place of safety for him. In Act V, his rejection of the Temple of bricks and mortar is completed in ~he violent tearing of the veil of the Temple (23:45) to signal the beginning of the reign of Christ. In the epilogue, Luke tells us that the apostles went to the Temple after the ascension of Jesus to await, in, prayer, their call to journey and mission. Each dramatic section of this outline of'the action 0f Luke's gospel closes with a precise use of the image of the Temple which, I ~uggest, holds up before the reflective reader the main theme 'of the life, death and resurrection of the story of Jesus. A reflective and careful exami-nation of even a few' of these sections will bear this out. The Prologue As Prayer ' Luke says that although his readers are familiar with the story of the life bf Jesus, he intends "to write an ordered account." I Shggest that his purpose is to write :an artistic and' meditative account of the Gospel in order to lead his refiders to prayer and a deeper consideration of the events o~ that story. The prologue (as I have designated it, verses ! to 25) can be used as a unit for prayer which inv~olves the whole person of th6 reader. For study purposes exegetes rightly identify as prologue 6nly the first ~our°verses~, because theseare writtenin very stylized and formal-Greek. That is proper to a formal introduction; but a literary prologue, besides'addressing the work to the~hudience, also links it to the past and gives.th'e~ audience some hints of the principal themes in the action that is to follow, The formal introduction, that is the first four verses, appropriately ,addresses the St. Luke's Use of the Temple Image / 597 Gospel to Theophilus anti to everyone who professes a love of God. Verses 5 to .7 make the link: this is not going to be. a Gr~eek story, but one set in Israel. The first personages to whom we are introduced are two of the finest people that culture and religion produced: "Both were just in the sight of God and scrupulously observed all the commandments and observances of the Lord" :(1:6). Every word of this quotation is rich in history, meaning and imagery. The word "just," often translated as "righteous," "worthy," -"virtuous," is a summary of the history of God's dealings with the Hebrew people. We should also be aware of the suggestive power of names such as Zachariah: "His name means 'Yahweh has remembered'.TM A note of tragedy is sounded with the words that Elizabeth was barren; but the author hastens to set his scene for the main action and to suggest his main themes. It is the solemn hour of, w9rship in the sacred dwelling place of the True God. It is one of the great moments of Zachariah's priestly career; he has been chosen by lot to offer the incense in the sanctuary. While the faithful outside continue in prayer, Zachariah is plunged into a deep mystical ex-perience. Luke's mention of the angel Gabriel (1:19) is regarded as a signal that the new age is about to begin? The same angel had commanded the prophet Daniel to tell his people that their exile and oppression were at an end and that a messenger would come to herald the advent of a new era (Book of Daniel, chapters 9 and 10). By drawing attention to several pa~al-lels between Zachariah's experience and that of Daniel (such as the evening hour of prayer and their being left speechless6) Luke implies that God is about to fulfill his promise and begin that new era. With this incident in the Temple Luke also symbolizes the coming to an end of the Old Covenant and the beginning of the New. This. of course, will be developed and made increasingly more clear as the narrative unfolds. For the moment, this is the hour for which the whole world has been waiting. God is about to enter into the history of man. By closing the prologue with a reference to the Temple (l:.22).Luke esta~blishes a pattern for his symbolizatio.n of a life-death-resurrection t.heme which will be repeated throughout the gospel-story at the end of each significant dramatic section. Use of Imagination in Prayer A studious reading of the Gospel is important to avoid mere flights of 4Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. ed. Gerhard Kittel; trans. G. W. Bromiley (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Wm. E~rdmans Publishing Co. 1965). For "hieros" see 111. pp. 221-247. For "naos". IV, pp. 880-890. (Subsequent references m these notes will be to Kittel.)~Klaus Baltzer, in "The Meaning of the Temple in the Lukan Writings.'" Harvard Theolog!cal Review (Misso~ula. Montana: Scholars' Press) 58 (1965), pp. 263-277. regards Luke's use of terms for the Temple as "inconsistent." 5JBC, p. 121, #44:27. 6JBC, p. 121, 4#44:28. Review for Religious, Volume 38, 1979 / 4 fancy, and the use of a good commentary can be of invaluable help. But,a prayerful approach through the use of imagination and other faculties will prevent the opposite errbr of regarding the Gospel as a mere intellectual exercise book. St. Luke's Gospel is a prayer book of the highest merit. But we must bring to it our whole selves as human beings; all our senses and faculties must be employed in our praying. The passage designated as the. end of Act II (2:41-52) is an exemplary unit of action and dialogue which can be momentarily lifted out of the context and used for meditation which involves our whole person in it. ThE opening sentences immediately direct our thought and imagination to Jerusalem and draw us into the journey of Jesus. "Every year" and "Passover" should be equally significant words to us as they were for the people of Jesus' own day. The first activity"is in the world of human, every-day affairs and should alert us to the fact that prayer begins and take~ place in the world of events, circumstances, and persons in the course of our daily lives. Hence, we take our place among friends and acquaintances, with Jesus and Mary. We, too, are going up to Jerusalem, to the Temple, for a joyful celebration. The text, of course, leaves the details of the visit to our imagination. Our prayer at this level might valuably draw us to dwell upon 'what happened at the Temple when Jesus celebrated his entry into adulthood. However,~that can only be surmised; we should not allow our-selves to be sidetracked by it. The text urges us to follow more closely; it puts the emphasis on what occurs after the ceremony of Jesus' Bar Mitz-vah, The return trip to Nazareth is usual and all that might be expected after aj0yful visit to the Temple. Again, it is the world of everyday experience. Jesus was not with his parents, but "they assumed he was with the cara-van." They were conscientious parents and looked for him. No panic is suggested in their action: "They sought him among acquaintances and relations." Where else would one look for a normal twelve-year-old boy who had just experienced the excitement of receptiofi into adulthood? However, "when they failed to find him," anxieties

Issue 30.5 of the Review for Religious, 1971. ; EDITOR R. F. Smith, S.J. ASSOCIATE EDITOR Everett A. Dledertch, 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 FOR I~LIOXOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 631o3. Questions for answering should be sent to .Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St.- Joseph's Church; 3~21 Willings Alley; Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 191o6. + + + REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Edited with ecclesiastical approval by faculty members of the School of Divinity of Saint Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Owned by the Missouri Province Edu-cational Institute. Published bimonthly and copyright ~) 1971 by REVIEW VOR RELIC;IOUS. Published for Review for Religious at .Mr. Royal & Guilford Ave., Baltimore, Md. Printed in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at Baltimore, .Maryland and at additional mailing offices. Single copies: $1.25. Subscription U.S.A, and Canada: $6.00 a year, $11.00 for two years: other countries: $7.00 a year, $)3.00 ~or )wo 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 Fog RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Renewals and new subscriptions should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P. O. Box 1110; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Manuscripts, editorial correspondence, and books for re-view should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boulevard; Saint Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to the address of the Questions and Answers editor. SEPTEMBER 1971 VOLUME 30 NUMBER 5 EDWARD J. FARRELL The Journal--A Way into Prayer If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent If the unheard, unspoken Word is unspoken, unheard; Still is the unspoken woriJ, the Word unheard, The Word without a word, the Word within the world and for the world; and the light shone in darkness and against the Word the unstilled world still whirled about the centre of the silent Word --Ash Wednesday, T. S. Eliot. Prayer is a hunger, a hunger that is not easily quieted. Today the cry, "Teach us to pray," echoes and reverber-ates from many directions. One of the ways I have learned to pray is by writing. I began by copying favorite passages from reading, then thoughts and ideas of others and fi-nally came to jotting down my own insights and reflec-tions from the prayer and experiences of each day. This prayer journal at times seems like my own biography of Christ, a kind of Fifth Gospel. Writing makes me think of the Evangelists' experience. Why and how did Mat-thew, Mark, Luke, and John begin their writing? What happened in them? What kind of grace was affecting them? Certainly their experience in writing was a prayer, an entering into the mind and heart of Christ. I wonder if the evangelists' experience is not to be a more common experience for many Christians. We know that God has expressed Himself in a unique and privileged way in Scripture, and yet He continues to reveal Himself and ourselves to us in the events of our ~everyday life. His written word is fresh born each morn-ing and He appeals to us: "Harden not your hearts this day as your fathers did in the desert" (Ps 95). We dare to ask Him each day: "Give us this day our daily bread," knowing that it is not by bread alone that man lives but by every word that comes from the mouth of God. The Father continues to communicate to each of us through E. J. Farrell is a faculty member of Sacred Heart Semi-nary; 2701 Chicago Boulevard; Detroit, Michigan 48206, VOLUME 30, 751 ÷ ÷ E. ]. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the Spirit of His Son, "for the Spirit reaches the depths of everything, even the depths of God. After all, the depths of a man can only be known by his own spirit, not by any other man; and in the same way the depths of God can only be known by the Spirit of God. Now instead of the spirit of the world, we have received the Spirit that comes from God, to teach us to understand the gifts that he has given us" (1 Cot 2:10-2). Rahner somewhere writes: "There are things which theologians try to explain. The Lord has other means of making them understood." Christ speaks to us each in a unique way. I think and pray and speak to Him in a way no one else has ever spoken to Him. He speaks to me in a way that He has spoken to no one else. Moments of depth and rare in-sight, of meeting with God, the sacred, are to be treasured and pondered within the heart. What photography is to the visual, writing is to the intuitive and moment of light. Paul wrote: "If you read my words, you will have some idea of the depths that I see in the mystery of Christ (Eph 3:4). Writing enables us to see into the depths. It is not a simple recording of thoughts already finished; it is crea-tive in its very activity and process. Writing is a journey, exploring the countries of the mind and heart, the never ending revelatory Word spoken once for all time. Little attention has been given to the value of writing as a way into prayer, an openness to contemplation, as a celebra-tion and remembering, as discovery, as centering. Deep calls to deep and the deep conscious level responding to the deep, not yet conscious reality of our being. In the beginning was the Word and He had to become incar- Ilate. There is I hope something of the Evangelists' grace for each of us, the grace of writing, of incarnating, infleshing the word in our self and imprinting it and making it our word. None of the Evangelists were "writers" in the pro-fessional sense; yet their writings were a deep communi-cation with God, with themselves, with others. Our Lord frequently asked His listeners: "What do you think?" He constantly compels us to think, to contemplate! How sad it is that so often we lose our capacity for truth, for depth; numbness, overload fuses out and shortcircuits our perceptive facuhies. Writing creates an opening in the stream of uncon-" sciousness and breaks up the automatic pattern of our life. One awakes to the newness that comes so unexpected each day. Our eyes see differently as through the wonder of a new camera. One becomes aware that ihis is the only moment like this that I shall ever have. The first con-scious thought of the day becomes an exciting experi- ence. As a person writes he begins to recognize an extraor-dinary relation between the hand as it writes and the mind and heart, like an ignition. What is written is not as significant as what happens to us in the process. Some-thing is growing within; hidden capacity gently reveals itself. New sensitivities unfold. The horizon sweeps back, the veil lifts, and we experience Emmaus: "Did not our hearts burn within us as he talked to us and explained the scripture to us" (Lk 24:32). Rollo May describes creativity as "the encounter of the intensely conscious human being with his world." Writing is an experience of creativity immediately availa-ble to everyone: "To write one has but to begin, to take the risk, to take it seriously enough to play with it, for it is by walking that one creates the path." It is so easy to live outside of ourselves, to be unaware of the inner center, the inner dialogue, the inner journey. But once a man begins, he experiences the' thrill of his own unique thoughts and insights. He begins to descern his own words from the borrowed words of others. What an ac-celeration to discover the "hidden manna" and He who gives him "a white stone, with a new name written on the stone which no one knows except him who receives it" (Rev 2:17). T. S. Eliot expresses it so simply: With the drawing of this Love and the Voice of this Calling We shall not cease from exploration And the end of all our exploring Will be to arrive where we started And know the place for the first time. Writing is a way into what is going on and developing within ourselves. It can become a powerful way of prayer, a key to self-understanding and inner dialogue. The power in writing stimulates the very inner process that it is engaged in describing, drawing the process further inward. It is not a passive retelling of events, or a de-scribing of an experience. It becomes one's own experi-ence. Nor is it a self-conscious analytical introspection. Expressing oneself in words is rather an active and con-tinuing involvement in a personal inner process through which one is drawn into an expanded understanding of the reality in his own existence. For example, most peo-ple pray the Our Father every day. One can hear Christ's words and then suddenly hear what his own heart is saying: "Hallowed by my name, my kingdom come, my will be done." This inbreaking of understanding can be-come just another forgotten inspiration and lost grace or by getting it down it becomes specific, focused, and deci-sive. If one writes regularly, no matter how briefly, a con-scious thought, insighL prayer, reflection,he will find that 4- + + The Journal VOLUME ~0, 1971 753 ÷ ÷ ÷ E. J. Farrell REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS "/54 it becomes a cumulative enrichment. It is tuning into what is going on, seeing the connection and relationship, capturing that which is behind the consciousness. Writing and contemplation tend to merge. We know the saints best who found themselves compelled to write---Augus-tine, Bernard, Catherine, Teresa, and our own contem-poraries John XXIII's Journal of a Soul, Dag Hammar-skjold's Markings. In this day of so much glib talk, when we are daily inundated and assaulted with unending words and speech, when everyone is correspondingly articulate on every-thing, the written personal word is increasingly impor-tant. Such words come out of silence and expand silence. They reestablish privacy so rare today, and a comfortable sense of solitude. They beget the dialogue between one's known self and one's deeper, unknown self that is coming into being. One begins to hear the wordless dialogue be-tween one's deepest sel{ and God. Christ taught His Dis-ciples through the deep questions--"Who do you say I am? . Do you love me? . What do you think?" We can-not but respond to His questions and imperatives with our own questions and responses: "Is it I, Lord? W.here do you live?" As never before, each of us has to personalize our faith; we must initial it with our own name and make it ours. We must be able to give reason for the faith that is within us. People do not ask about the formal teachings of the Church. They want to know your experience, what you think, what difference does Jesus make. Here are some of the questions that I. have been asked and that I write about in order that I may be ready to speak His word in me for others: "How do you pray? . Who is Jesus for me?.When do you believe? .W. hen do you love?" "How? .When have you experienced penance? .W. hat difference does the Eucharist make in you? . What do you expect of you? .How does your vineyard grow?" "What is your charism? .W. hat is your sin? .W. hat would it take for you to be a saint now? . What is Jesus asking of you today? . What effect are you making on your world?" These questions demand thinking; they demand contemplation. Answering the questions in spoken words may avoid the implications of their personal meaning. Thinking is so diffused, unformulated, scattered, easily distracted. To write an answer for one's self is to drive deep; it disciplines, focuses, and brings one to face Christ with his conviction. A journal is a journey--the journey of today--both words are from the French word "le jour"--today. The journal is the coming into possession of life this day in the written word, capturing its secret, its mystery. The written word is perhaps more like a kiss than a possessing as in the words of Blake: He who bends to himself a joy Doth the winged life destroy But he who kisses the joy as it flies Loves in Eternity's sunrise. The journal calls for honesty, for a search into meet-ing. It is a discipline in a day when discipline is rare: "But it is a narrow gate and a hard road that leads to life, and only a few find it" (Mt 7:14). Time set aside to move from the outer to the inner, to discover new depths, to see new connections, to perceive fresh insight--surely this work is prayer. It is at times unselfconscious poetry and contemporary psalmody. The journal is a putting into words the praise of God that leaps from the transparencies of life which the light of faith illumines for us. Each of us has our own nnique psalms; the journal helps us to find the words which in turn we share with those He sends to us. Each must honor the desire to express one-self or not. Every person has his own inner rhythm, and each must have his own way of getting to it. Writing Together When people come together and are silent, something in addition becomes present: "Where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them" (Mt 18:20). As a group turns their focus from outside to inside, to a level of depth, something else be-comes present and makes other kinds of experiences pos-sible. This contact with ourselves would not happen by oneself. A cumulative atmosphere of depth allows us to come to new depth within ourselves. One of the more fruitful group prayer experience that I have worked with is using a three-hour block of time. A gronp of six to ten sit in a small circle in the presence of the Eucharist or with the open Scripture and lighted candle, in the center. The first hour is a prayer of adoration, of silent witness to the Presence in the presence of each other. This hour is an experience of silence and hiddenness with the Father: "You are dead and your life is hidden with Christ in God." The second hour is the hour of writingmthe quantum leaps from nothingness into creation--the power of a word pulling many things into understand-ing. Out of the silence the word comes forth. A field of energy is generated by the concentration of the others around oneself, and one is supported by the current of their efforts. The hour of writing is more than a remem-bering the hour in silence. It is an unfolding experience in itself that carries new dimensions of perception with it. The third hour is one of sharing, of speaking the word 4- + + The .lournal 755 to one another. The sharing is at a depth level because of the common experience of the previous two hours--it is no longer an exchange of words and ideas, it is a meeting of persons. In some dim way these three hours are a Trinity experience--the Father in the hour of silence, the Son in the hour of writing, and the Holy Spirit in the hour of sharing. God speaks! We are compelled to etch Him upon our hearts in writing; and then we are ready to bear witness unafraid and we dare to say with Paul: "If you read my words, you will have some idea of the depths that I see in the mystery of Christ" (Eph 3:4). EDWARD HAYES, O.C.S.O. Probings into Prayer One of the purposes of transactional analysis is to liber-ate people from unheahhy negative feelings about them-selves and others. To do this, one endeavors to evoke the same original sitnation wherein the "child" made a feel-ing decision from the experience. Once the original expe-rience is evoked, one has to re-decide, perhaps years later, at a feeling level, to liberate oneself from sulzh unhealthy negative feelings. In short, one has to return to the origi-nal injunction and re-decid~ on a feeling level. It is al-most a cliche in some circles: go back to childhood, to one's origin in order to understand one's present situa-tion better. ,'1 Wider Concept o[ Prayer To better nnderstand prayer it is also beneficial to return to its origins.1 St. John tells us: "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was toward God and the Word was God" (Jn 1;I). The Word was "toward God" sounds strange. We usually translate it by "with God," "near God," changing the meaning of the Greek, "pros theon." " The evangelist wants to express a mystery that our translation ought to respect. "Toward God" implies relationship, motion. From eternity the Word was turned toward the Father, the Word's Personality, His divine gaze, was totally addressing the Father--a Thou. An un-ceasing movement drew the Word toward the Father. Prayer is a movement toward Another, a responding rela-tionship. St. John, in describing the origin of prayer, is telling us something of great import: to become fully conscious you need only to look with love on another-- on a "Thou." And this is what the Word does from all eternity--turning totally toward His Father. Prayer de-scribed as this means it is relational, a moving toward Another. Responding to my life situation is a "moving 1Jean Galot, s.J., La pri~re (Bruges: Desclfie de Brouwer, 1965); throughout this article I am indebted to this hook. '~ I. de La Potterie, "De interpunctione et interpretatione versuum Job. 1:3, 4, I1," Verbum Domini, v. 33 (1955), pp. 193-208. 4- Edward Hayes is a staff member of the House of Prayer at Durward's Glen; RR 2, Box 220; Baraboo, Wisconsin 53913. VOLUME 30, 1971 757 4. 4. °4. Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS toward the Father," is prayer, is an earthly embodiment of the Eternal Word's incessant prayer. In this sense of prayer as a "pros theon" movement, prayer is as wide as life. Saying yes to the summons in one's daily circum-stances is a "pros theon" movement, is saying yes to ulti-mate Responsibility, God Himself. In this way man is again and again opening himsel[ to the summons availa-ble in his life, seeking to respond to it with courage and generosity. Although not in a specifically religious exer-cise, not even with a supernatural intention, man, in answering the appeals in his daily secular experiences, is moving toward the Fathei', is at prayer. Formal prayer, then, simply clarifies and intensifies the moving toward the Father wherever people try to become more truly themselves. Another example o[ this wider concept o[ prayer as a movement toward, as a dynamic thrust toward Another, is at the end o[ the prologue. "No one has ever seen God, it is the only Son who is into the bosom o[ the Father, he it is who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). Verse 1 and verse 18 together make an inclusion to the prologue. The prologue begins and ends with the Word's (Son's) dy-namic movement into the Godhead. Here in verse 18, "eis ton kolpon," literally, "into the Father's bosom," is trans-lated like its counterpart in verse 1. Translations hesitate to express the original and prefer, "He who is in the bosom of the Father." Ke.eping the awkward translation makes evident the expression of movement, "into the bosom of the Father." Here is a dynamic thrust, a vital relationship of the Son toward the Father. From eternity, the authentic core of His Person is addressed and called forth in filial love. True prayer is being summoned and responding, a reality as wide as life itself. Beyond Professionalism It has been pointed out to us that many in pastoral care take special training because of their need to be more skillful in their pastoral relationships,z The increas-ing number of pastoral training centers witnesses to the great desire to find an answer to the "how-to-do-it" ques-tion. How to relate to hippies, to young radicals, to stu-dents, to those in crises. Those in pastoral care do look to the masters of behavioral sciences to give them answers [or their urgent questions. Certainly, the assistance o[ these social sciences is o[ tremendous importance. Yet there is a unique dimension which goes beyond the ex-pertise o[ the behavioral sciences, that goes beyond pro- [essionalism to the internal dynamism of one's faith. We n Henri Nouwen, "Pastoral Care," National Catholic Reporter, v. 7, n. 20 (March 19, 1971), p. 8. are referring here not to techniques but to one's spiritual quality, to one's inner thrust, to one's conviction and authenticity to be communicated in encountering others. Jesus Himself cared for souls and their individual needs, for Magdalene, for the woman at the .well, for Nicode-mus. Jesus was skillful in His relationships with them and was not afraid to use His insights into the stirrings of the human heart. But when asked about the source of His knowledge He said: "My teaching is not from myself; it comes from the one who sent me" (Jn 7:16), This exemplifies going beyond techniques and skills and plunging into the heart of relationship to Another. Another text indicating the relationship between inner depth and one's mission, skillfully relating to others, is: "No one has seen God except the only Son who is into the bosom of the Father. He it is who has made him known" (Jn 1:18). "Into the bosom of the Father" means that the Son penetrates into the deepest secrets of the Father. Prayer, as was mentioned, inv~)lves a filial dyna-mism wherein the Holy Spirit, like di~cine energy, seizes the Son, carrying Him into the bosom of the Father. But then John adds: "He [the Son] it is who has made him known," marking the relationship between prayer and one's mission. To make known the Father, to be witness, one must give witness not only for Someone but to what one has seen. The only Son has made known what His divine gaze, in moving deeper into the secret recesses of the Father, has grasped and contemplated. All one's wit-nessing value issues out of a dynamism which has carried him, first of all, into the bosom of the Father. Again we are going beyond professionalism. Making known the Fa-ther, accomplishing one's apostolate, is to issue out of or be blended with searching into the inner recesses of the Father, that is, prayer. If one ceases to "wonder" in the silent reflection of his inner loneliness, if one has not yet begun to imbibe the Spirit by letting Scriptures speak to him, if one rationalizes his way out of praying together with a handful of friends who mediate the Spirit to him --this apostle has not gone beyond professionalism and can scarcely bring hope and ultimate meaning to the lives o£ others.4 Again we can approach the same matter by looking further into the meaning of "into the bosom of the Fa-ther." It means attaining the secret depths of God, plung-ing deeply into reality where God is hidden. Human experiences have privileged moments of disclosure where the infinite Thou is unveiled from within the finite 4 Gerard Broccolo, "The Priest Praying in the Midst of the Fam-ily of Men," Concilium, n. 52 (New York: Paulist, 1970). 4- 4- ÷ Prayer VOLUME 30, ).971 ÷ + + Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 760 thou.~ Searching into the bosom of the Father can mean a sensitivity for the deeper and transcending element that is experienced as co-present. We call this ultimate and hidden depth of human experience "Person" or "Father." The divine presence is hidden in the deepest dimension of human experience and so moving "into the bosom of the Father" can also mean contemplating God's work with man, distinguishing with a growing sensitivity the light and darkness in the human heart. Prayer, in this sense, is the ongoing disclosure of the deepest dimension of reality to us, revealing both God's light and man's darkness. In this perspective, our apostolate is never lim-ited to the application of any technique but ultimately goes beyond professionalism. It is the continuing search for God hidden in the life of the people we serve. Prayer, moving into the bosom of the Father, means searching and finding the God we want to make known in the lives of the people to whom we want to reveal Him. Prayer and Sell-identity ~Arho am 1? Do 1 think of myself as isolated, as exposed to the coincidences of every day, as placed in a universe withont meaning and without a fi~tnre? There are indeed moments in my life when I experience myself in this way. In faith I acknowledge nay new self-identity: I am a son and therefore given a destiny. I nnderstand myself as placed in a context where meaning and purpose are avail-able to me. This destiny makes me someone. In faith, therefore, I acknowledge nay own worth, not because of the efforts I make but because, as a son, I am accepted. In faith, there is no reason for me to be ashamed of myself. As son I rejoice in myselfY This filial identity is expressed and intensified by prayer. When the Son leaves the bosom of the Father and enters human life, his eternal "pros theon" movement is embodied at moments of prayer so that there is, in the evangelist's mind, a certain bond between Christ's prayer and manifesting His filial identity. For instance, at His Baptism there is a solemn declaration of His divine filia-tion by the Father as a result of Jesus' own prayer: "Now when all the people had been baptized and while Jesus after his own baptism was in prayer, heaven opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily shape, like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, 'You are my Son, the Beloved; my favor rests on you' " (Lk 3:21-2). It was in the midst of His prayer that the Spirit's descent and ~ Fons d'Hoogh, "Prayer in a Secularized Society," Concilium, n. 49 (New York: Paulist, 1969), pp. 42 ft. ~ Gregory Baum, Faith and Doctrine (New York: Newman, 1969), p. 18. the Father's proclamation took place as if the Father was awaiting the filial dlan of His son, which prayer embod-ies, before declaring Jesus' divine filiation. Recognizing in Christ's words and gestures the authentic expression of sonship, the Father proclaimed with power that this man is His beloved Son. Notice the bond between Christ's prayer and revealing the true identity of Christ as Son. Again, at the Transfiguration, prayer plays the same role: "He took with him Peter and John and James and went up the mountain to pray" (Lk 9:28). The purpose was to pray and only during the course of their prayer did the incident of the Transfiguration take place. Jesus inwardly gazing upon the Father suddenly makes Him appear visibly what He is in reality: the resplendent glory of the Father (Heb 1:3): "As he prayed the aspect of his countenance was changed and his clothing became bril-liant as lightning" (Lk 9:29). As at the Baptism, by pray-ing Jesus adopts a filial attitude and in this "pros theon" movement the proclamation of divine Sonship is heard. Again, the bond between prayer and His self-identity as Son is seen. Finally, at His death, Jesus prays: "Father, into your hands I commend my spirit" (Lk 23:46). By beginning with "Father," Jesus changes the Psalmist's prayer of the Old Testament (Ps 21:6) into a filial prayer. The Psalmist was crying out to Yahweh but Christ trans-figures the Psalmist's prayer by saying "Father," making it a filial prayer. That cry was His last testimony as Son. At the supreme moment Jesus pulls Himself together so that fi'om the very ground of His being there arises the strength to proclaim what is closest to Him, His Sonship. This is the most moving revelation of His Sonship, so moving that it convinces the pagan centurion: "In truth this man was the son of God" (Mk 15:39). In the three most privileged moments wherein Christ is revealed as Son of God we are aware of the role of prayer. At the Baptism, at the Transfiguration, and at His death it was prayer that evoked the manifestation of Jesus' filial identity. In turning toward the Father in prayer Jesus is acting as Son and this gesture provokes on the part of the Father the proclamation of Christ's Sonship. This sponta-neous gesture belongs to the revelation of the mystery of His person. Whenever in prayer, Jesus is unveiling His divinity under a filial form. In Him there exists a bond between prayer and revealing the quality of sonship which allows us to say that prayer manifests and intensi-fies our self-identity as sons. If you are traveling on a train it occasionally happens that the steady clicking of the rails and the movement of the train begin to put you to sleep. When the train slows down and comes to a halt the little jolt involved in stop- Prayer VOLUME 30, 1971 ping awakens you. As-we move from one day into the next, often the sameness in daily situations can put one into a spiritual somnolence. It is when we stop that rhythm by breaking off for the sake of reflection that an awakening of inner life happens. Prayer, reflection, is an awakening to your deeper self, recalling you to what is the most basic dimension within you, to the reality as son. Prayer is discovering what you already are. You do not have to rush after it. It is there all the time. All that is needed is time for it to unfold. If you give it time it will make itself known to you. Christ established a new principle of human life: man becomes his true self espe-cially in prayer. Grace hides a filial identity and it is prayer which reveals to a human person that which is the deepest and truest nobility within onself: the quality as son of the Father. This turning toward the Father affirms and (leepens one's self-identity as son. Like Jesus Himself, man in prayer, continuing the mystery of the Incarna-tion, can become fully aware of what he really is, son. + + + Edward Hayes REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS PETER BYRNE, C.Ss.R. Teilhard de Chardin and Commitment There is now incontrovertible evidence that mankind has just entered upon the greatest period of change the world has ever krlown.~ These stirring words were first uttered in 1936 by Tell-hard de Chardin, and they bear scrutiny today more than 30 years later when change seems to be not only taking place but seems to be the most constant feature of life. In fact change occurs so rapidly in these times that soci-ologists tell us that a new generation rises every 5 years. Practically, this means that the mores and values of any age group five years ago seem to the equivalent age group today to be dated. It may seem strange, but while all agree that rapid and radical change is taking place there is very little agreement as to the fundamental nature of the change itself. The symptoms of radical discontent with the past are apparent; but historians, philosoph.ers, theo-logians and scientists hardly dare to guess what will be the shape or appearance of the future, This paper is an attempt to find something constant at the heart and center of the changing world. It will at-tempt to answer the question of man's responsibility to direct and control change, and finally it will say some-thing about the part that religious rnust take in this dy-namic and changing world. We can list the symptoms of change under two head-ings, namely, destructive and constructive. On the de-structive side we witness the breakdown of authority and consequent concern about law and order as traditionally understood. Protest marches and demonstrations are the order of the day and often lead to violence and death. The establishment everywhere is under fire from young people demanding change, relevance, and recognition. I Teilhard de Chardin, Building the Earth (Wilkes Barre, Pa., 1965), p. 22. ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne gives missions and re-treats and can be reached at P.O. Box 95; Bacolod City, Philippines. VOLUME 30, 1971 763 Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 764 Every year brings a new record of abortions, murders, suicides, and violent deaths. Add to this the ever increas-ing number of drug addicts and drop-outs from society, the wars that rage in three continents and that are a constant threat to peace and order and established gov-ernment. This very age which we call the age of progress seems to be also the age of progressive estrangement from God. "Eclipse of the light of heaven, eclipse of God, such indeed is the character of the historic hour through which the world is passing." _o So wrote Martin Buber and man's loneliness and isolation from his fellowmen predictably led to isolation from God who was variously described as absent, silent, or dead. On the constructive side man has also something to show. In the short span of a few decades modern man has learned to fly, invented radio, telephone, and television; he has set up worldwide communications network, trans-planted hearts, harnessed electric and atomic power, pro-longed life expectancy, probed the secrets of the heavens, and landed on the moon. The new style of Christian life already in vigor in the world may be described as "more commitment and less devotion, more spirit and less super-stition, more autonomy and less authority, more society and less herd, more concern and less worry, more sponta-neity and less guilt, more creativity and less rote, more joy and less fear, more humanity and less pomposity, more thought and less testament." :~ Are we picturing only the sunny side of life and shut-ting our eyes to the horrors of life? "Men still merely understand strength, the key and symbol of violence in its primitive and savage form of war.''4 Have we forgotten Nagasaki, Biafra, Dachau--symbol of a Christian nation methodically with the aid of modern science exterminat-ing five million Jews and (often forgotten) six million Christians? This.age .of "civilisation" shows a record of at least one major war every decade leading to direct or in-direct killing of millions. A discussion of the comparative strength of nations means not their power to construct a better society and raise the standard of living, but rather their military resources in terms of minutemen, warheads, rockets, bombs and all kinds of fighting equipment. A well-known writer has said that he always reads the sports page of the newspaper first and the front page last be-cause the former contains the record of man's triumphs and the latter his defeats. We do not ignore the grim ~ Martin Bubcr, The Eclipse oJ God (New York, 1957), p. 23. ¯ ~ Leslie Dcwart, The Foundations oJ BelieJ (New York, 1969), p. 486. ~ Building the Earth, p. 73. reality of the turmoil in the world; it must enter into any view of the total human situation. Before going on to give interpretations of the trend of the human race and to theorize about its final end, we can make one observation here which I think will be accepted by all as true. At any stage of the history of the human race we can put down side by side the best and the worst features of the age, the constructive and the destructive elements that made up the human situation of the time. Numerically they may often seem to cancel each other out, leaving us to ponder the question of Sartre whether progress and life are not finally absurd. However, the good and bad elements of human history differ markedly in one important respect; namely, the bad pass and the good remain. To clarify--the natural disasters like plagues, famine, earthquakes, fires, floods; the man-made calamities of war, murder, and scientific destrnction, which directly and indirectly have claimed millions of lives, we have survived all these (though by no means paid the debt of expiation). Not only has the human race survived all disasters but established a world opinion that seems to make a recurrence of the worst of these virtually impossible. Not only has the human race survived and grown more and more enlightened but the products of man's skill and inventiveness spread further every day and be-come more and more available to people everywhere-- medicine, transportation, communication, education, all adding up to man's conquest of matter and coming to enjoy greater personal fi'eedom. It does seem that general history shows that the good things of life survive while the less worthy perish and pass into comparative oblivion. This is not to say that there were no exceptions to this general rule. Many of the ancients showed skills in archi-tecture, sculpture, acoustics, writing, whose secrets have been lost. This paper is concerned with the future and the pres-ent rather than with the past. What we say of the past has value mainly for our extrapolated assessment of the trend of progress in the future. The attitude that we adopt to-wards the world and towards life is determined by our philosophy, our theology, or simply by our experience. People who have had firsthand experience of war often lose faith in human nature and faith in God Himself. If God exists and is good, how can He permit the sense-less killing of innocent human b(ings? Sartre reached the conclusion that man is utterly alone: "With no ex-cuses behind us or justification before us, every human being is born without reason, prolongs life out of weak- + ÷ + Teiihartl and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 765 ÷ ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 766 ness and dies by chance." "~ For Sartre God did not exist and life was absurd. This does not do justice to Sartre nor do we intend here to dwell on him because it does not seem possible to build a philosophy of hope for the fu-ture on the premise that life is absurd. I should like to contrast here two attitudes towards the future of the earth---one is found in what may be loosely called traditional Catholic spirituality and the other in the works of Teilhard de Chardin. The traditional Catholic expression of the purpose of our life is contained in the oft quoted words of St. Ig-natius Loyola: "Man was created to praise God his Lord, to give Him honor and so to save his soul." 6 The helleni-sation of Christianity brought into clear relief the dis-tinction between body arid soul and practically the mes-sage of salvation as preached was preoccupied with saving the soul which was imprisoned in the body. The great enemies of salvation were the world, the flesh, and the devil. The question was asked: What does. Jesus say to teach us that saving our soul is more important than anything else? And the answer: Jesus says: "What doth it profit a man if he gains the whole world but suffers the loss of his own soul?" 7 If the world posed a threat to the salvation of the soul, the proper attitude towards it was one of detachment if not positive conflict. It should be used to sustain life but never developed for its own sake. It could be used also to store up merit through labor: "Labor as the fulfillment of God's will is a source of merit, atoning for sin and lay-ing up glory in heaven. Through it I work out my own salvation and contribute to the good of my neighbor, both spiritual and material good." s Distrust of the flesh easily led to distrust of human emotions and heavy emphasis on the necessity of asceti-cism. Penance was exalted and a luxurious life frowned upon. Scientific advances were often judged not by bene-fits they conferred but rather by the threat that they posed to a way of life that should be sealed with the cross of Christ. Taken all in all, this world and even the human body was man's temporary prison from which the true Christian looked forward to release for his entry into his true home in heaven. Of course, it was a matter of emphasis acquired little by little as the Church tried to meet the challenges that she had to face. And how does traditional Christianity appear ~ H. J. Blackman (cd.), Reality, Man and Existence (New York, 1965), p. 325. ~A Catholic Catechism (New York, 1963), p. 2. z Ibid., p. 299. s Leo Trese, Guide to Christian Living (Notre Dame, 1963), p. 345. to modern man? He sees it as indifferent if not actually hostile to science, no leader in the world but a deserter, scared of personalism and love; a religion of death, pov-erty, suffering, sorrow, that knows how to weep at the crucifixion but incapable of joy at the resurrection; with no adequate theology of work, success, joy, marriage, youth, hope, life, or love. Young people today are looking for a presentation of Christianity that will endorse their admiration for sci-ence, their love of the workl, and their hopes for the fu-ture. It is Teilhard de Chardin who seems to give Chris-tianity the particular emphasis necessary to meet these aspirations of our time. In contrast, the traditional preaching of Christianity seemed to be more interested in the past than the future; it seemed cold towards science and detached from the earth. This of course was reflected in the practical lives of Christians, causing Christianity to be dubbed as irrelevant. Let us see how Teilhard un-derstood the trend of evolution and the implication of his views in terms of commitment: The situation which Teilhard entered was one in which materialists asserted that everything in this world is governed by blind purposeless determinism; while christians too often were simply fighting a rear-guard action against them, trying to resist as long as possible any scientific theory which seemed to conflict with traditional ideas.° Teilhard was at the same time .a devoted priest and a devoted scientist. His closest friends included unbelievers, agnostics, skeptics--many of them outstanding scientists for whom Christianity was an outdated monolith indiffer-ent to progress. Teilhard wanted to find a way of giving expression to the faith that was in him in a way that the scientists would listen to. And so he began by speaking the language of the scientist in terms that held their attention and commanded their respect because of his diligence in research. However his life work was not intended merely as an apologetic for others but because he felt also within himself the anguish of trying to reconcile progress on earth with the christian ideal of detachment: This has always been the problem of my life; what I mean is the reconciliation of progress and detachment---of a passionate and legitimate love for this great earth and unique pursuit of the kingdom of heaven?° ÷ And so he set out to try to reconcile in a single synthesis + these two. He believed that they could not be opposed + but must in some way complement one another. To effect Teilhard and the synthesis he did not begin with revelation but with Commitment ° Fr. John Russell, A Vision o/Teilhard de Chardin, p. 9. ~°Christopher F. Mooney, Teilhard de Chardin and the Mystery Christ (New York, 1966), p. 28. VOLUME 30, 1971 767 + ÷ ÷ Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 768 what can be observed by human perception. He was not afraid of what science might discover. "We christians," he said, "have no need to be afraid of, or to be unreason-ably shocked by, the resuhs of scientific research . they detract nothing from the almighty power of God nor from the spirituality of the soul, nor from the supernatu-ral character of christianity, nor from a man's superiority to the animals." al For Teilhard the whole world was in a state of becom-ing. It has very obviously developed from a state of chaos to a state of order. It may have taken five billion years to reach its present state. In the course of those years the earth cooled and became gradually disposed to produce and sustain life. Even prior to the emergence of life on earth a very important aspect of evolution is observable, namely, complexity. Electron, atom, molecule--these show not only. succession in time but gradual growth in complexity organized about a center. Teilhard calls this centro-complexity. This process is carried further in vi-ruses and further still in cells which are the first bodies that beyond doubt possess life. Still further tip the scale of development are plants and animals which have their own order of complexity. But Teilhard observed also that growth in complexity is accompanied by a gradual intensification of conscious-ness. By means of the mechanisms of reproduction and association, life on earth moved forward in time and upward on the scale of coxnplexity. Man made his appear-ance one million years ago which in terms of the age of life on earth is quite recent. The thin line of life that has survived and developed on earth ~loes not amount to one millionth of the leaves that have sprouted on the tree of life. Complexity is a measure of time and this complexity in the various forms of life helps us to differentiate the time of their emergence in the course of evolution. But complexity alone does not mark one stage of evo-lution from another. A new element enters in, conscious-ness. The more complex a being becomes, the more centered it is on itself and the more aware it is. This aware-ness gives the being spontaneity of action and the ability to adapt and to dominate. This consciousness is further accompanied with the growth and refinement of the nerv-ous system. Matter achieves the break-through into con-sciousness through the complexification of the cells which produced the nervous system. The "within" of a thing grows more intense as the external o~'ganisation of the nervous system grows more complex. This "within" of things is a spiritual energy that was latent in matter im-n Teiihard de Chardin, Science and Christ (New York, 1968), p. 35. pelling evolution upwards in a glorious ascent. It is called by Teilhard "radial energy" and is that ever vibrating and vital force that has maintained the evolutionary process despite the unimaginable hazards that the process has encountered in the course of its millions of years of duration. A new threshold in the evolutionary process is crossed after due process of divergence, convergence, and emerg-ence. The final emergence is a new development in con-sciousness, something old because it came from the po-tential in the antecedents and emerged through creative union. Nevertheless, the new .emergence can be called new because it cannot be reduced to anything that was there before. Thought was the sign of a new emergence. In primates nature concentrated on the development of the brain. This is the process of cerebralisation. An increase of con-sciousness is in direct proportion to the degree of cere-bralisation, that is, increase in the complexity of brain structure. Among the primates when a certain advanced stage of brain development had been achieved, thought was born and with thought man was born. So that is the position of man in the evolutionary proc-ess. He is not the offshoot of a runaway evolution but the supreme culmination and product of the process itself-- the result of development and effort that covered aeons of time. Man is a person and he personalizes the world. He penetrates the world by his creative thinking and organizes the world-around himself. Man is not only conscious but also self-conscious; he can think and reflect on himself. He can survey the whole length of his own past history; he can see the process of successive emer-gences by which he himself has come to be. He sees the ever enduring quality of "radial energy" that still drives the process onward and upward. Comparing his present state with the state of evolution prior to man he asks the question: Where do we go from here? And then realizes that he does not only have the question but that the answer also is up to man himself. The new quality of the present stage of evolution is that it is under man's control. All stages prior to the emer-gence were at a subhuman level and therefore outside man's own control. In a certain sense man is the creator and not merely the passive recipient of the next stage of evolution. Before determining what are our obligations to the future we must continue the scientific process of observa-tion and try by extrapolation if we can know the trend of evolution for the future. The process leading to emer-gence must continue and this is leading mankind ~o ever greater and greater unity. This socialization of commun-÷ ÷ ÷ Teilhard and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 769 4. 4. Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ity is truly the crucial phase of the whole evolutionary process, and the deepest longing of the human heart is that it will never end but that it will reach fulfillment. This fulfillment cannot destroy thought or consciousness or personality. On the contrary it must eternalize them. Teilhard's idea of final synthesis becomes clearer when we contragt it with Bergson's idea that the elan vital (his name for what Teilhard calls radial energy) would finally issue in plurality and divergence: Bergson chose the plurMity and divergence. According to the Jewish philosopher, the world is evolving towards dispersal. As it advances its elements acquire greater autonomy. Each being is to achieve its own utmost originality and its maximum freedom in opposition to others. Perfection, bliss and supreme grandeur belong to the part not to the whole. From this dis-persive point of view socialisation of tb~ ".-.roman masses seems to be absurd regression or servitude. ~Lssentially the universe spreads like a fan; it is divergent in s :~cture."-' Teilbard's conclusion from science was that the universe has a goal and that this goal will be achieved because if the universe bas hitherto been successful in the unlikely task of bringing human thought to birth in what seems to us an unimaginable tangle of chances and mishaps it means that it is fundamentally directed by a power tbat is eminently in control of the elements that make up the universe.'" This power is the omega that must be personal, im-manent, and eternal. The answer to this need felt by the scientist is in the Christ of revelation. "By itself science cannot discover Christ--but Christ satisfies the yearnings that are born in our hearts in the school of science." 14 This is the achievement of Teilhard--to show how sci-ence and Christianity can join bands in accomplishing the final destiny of mankind. "Humanity," he says, "evolves in such a way ;is to form a natural unity whose extension is as vast as the earth." a~ Greater planetization, greater socialization, greater unity in love, this is the stage of development that we have reached. This conclu-sion is compatible with science and doubly borne out by our faith. "A passionate love of growth, of being, that is what we need." ~ (These sentiments were echoed by Pope Panl Vl in Populorum progressio when he said of the underprivileged: "They want to know more, and have more, because what they really want is to be more.") Love is the most universal, formidable, and mysterious of the cosmic energies; and Teilbard defines love as "the '~ Francisco Bravo, Christ in the Thought o] Teilhard tie Chardin, p. 15. ~.s Science and Ctirisg, p. 41. ~ Ibid., p. 36. ~s Ibid., p. 93. ~" Building the Earth, p. 108. attraction which is exercised upon each conscious element by the center of the universe." ~7 "The age of nations is past. The task before us now, if we would not perish, is to shake off our ancient !)rejudices and to build the earth." ~s Therefore Teilhard's contribution in respect to the fu-ture is to show us where the radial energy at the heart of evolution is driving us. We are tending towards not a meaningless annihilation, but, through interaction and love, towards the blending into one commnnity and even into one consciousness of all humanity. In fact, Teil-hard says that the crisis of the present time is a spiritual crisis in the sense that men "do not know towards what universe and final end they shonld direct the driving force of their sonls." ~'~ But we Christians know that prog-ress is leading to the restoration of all things in Christ. History, science, anthropology can systematically ennmer-ate the timeless longings of the human heart and can list the various endeavors to accomplish tlteir fnlfiIlment. The endeavors failed for it is only Christ who meets the demand of the alpha and the omega. Teilhard was able to show that science does not have to eclipse religion or vice versa. In fact both of these need each other if total harmony in the world is to be ac, hieved. Of science Tell-hard said: "The time has come to realise that research is the highest hnman ftmction, embracing the spirit of war and bright with the splendor of religion." '-'~' And of religion he writes: "Out of universal evolution God emerges ill onr consciousness as greater and more neces-sary than ever." ~1 Teilhard summed up his convictions succinctly when he wrote in The Divine Milieu: . three convictions which are the very marrow of christian-ity, the unique significance of Man as the spear-head of life; the position of Catholicism as the central :~xis in the convergent bnndle of human activities; and finally the essential ftmction as consummator assumed by the risen Christ at the cemer and peak of creation: these three elements have driven and con-tinue to drive roots so deep and so entangled in the whole fabric of my intellectual and religious perception that I could now tear them out only at the cost of destroying everything.~ He says that a challenge is put to a C/n'istian to be ac-tive and busily active "working as earnestly as the most convinced of those who work to build up the earth, that Christ may continually be born more fnlly in the world ~ Ibid., F- 45. ~8 Ibid., p. 54. "~' 'S Bciueinldcien agn tdh eC Eharirstth, ,p p. .1 5061. -"r Ibid., p. 59. '-'-'Teilbard de Chardin, The Divine Milieu (London, 1968), p. 38. + + 4- Teilhard and Commitment VOLUME ~0, 1971 + ÷ ÷ Pete~ Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 772 around him. More than any unbeliever never outstripped in hope and boldness." Teilhard spoke also of the task that confronts theolo-gians to think through the implications of evolution so that a new proclamation of thegospel may herald the new era in which we live. For the Christian this world is not only an antechamber to heaven but a task and a vo-cation. He wants Catholic doctrine to be given a dynamic aspect and a universal, cosmic, and futurist dimension34 The turmoil that we witness in the Church today may well be the birth pangs antecedent to a new emergence of Christianity not merely in the shadow of the cross but, more relevant to the hope that is in us, in its shining light. Leslie Dewart expresses the same hope when he writes: "Christian belief may yet become the leading cultural force contributing to the conscious self-creation of the hnman world." For Teilhard religion fixes its gaze not on the past but on the future which offers us the snre promise to make all things new: His concern was to blaze a trail for the new type of christian of his dreams---one in whom love for the task of living here on earth in an evolving world would coincide with a love for Christ, goal and crowning glory of that world; a christian whose vision would be focused upon the future and whose faith would take full account of the world's new dimensions; a christian in whom openness toward all mundane values would be matched with an unconditional commitment to God."~ It is important to note that involvement with the world and commitment to God if properly understood do not produce any dichotomy in man. It rather answers to the dual natnre of man "slime o~ the earth made into the image and likeness of God." ~ Modern psychology and related sciences now show that for mental health it is absolntely necessary to preserve these two in a fine bal-ance. "Moral norms," writes Erich Fromm, "are based upon man's inherent qualities, and their violation results in mental and emotional disintegration." zs If we do succeed in achieving the balance required it will be due not only to knowledge but also to faith and hope and the Holy Spirit. We are in the world not merely to foster evolution at a natural level: "In the life of the individual Christian as well as in the life of the Church as a whole there is an immediate and transcendent relationship to the Person of Christ which is independ~ent of all human ~ Science and Christ, p. 68. " N. M. Wildiers, An Introduction to Teilhard de Chardin (Lon-don, 1968), p. 123. '-'~ Leslie Dewart, op. cit., p. 689. '¯-'~ Wildiers, op. cit., p. 161. .,r Genesis 1:27. = Erich Fromm, Man ]or Hirnsel! (Greenwich, Corm, 1968), p. 17. progress and which cannot be reduced to any mere hu-man energy." .~9 Teilhard's pre6ccupation with his particular point of view and the particular purpose of his synthesis may have led him to understate the radical nature of the Incarna-tion and Redemption as a free gift of God apart from creation. Yet again it may be merely a question of empha-sis. He expressly left it to theologians to think through the implications of his theories for Christian doctrine as a whole. In this connection it would be interesting to ask what Teilhard thought of the religious life, aml how it fits into his world vision. He did not treat of the subject explicitly at any great length but we can gather some of his ideas on the subject, We can state at once that, in spite of many trials from superiors, Teilhard remained faithful to the Society of Jesus and even said: "The faintest idea of a move to leave the Order has never crossed my mind." ~0 He saw fidelity to the Order as the only reasonable course for him. We can go at once to the heart of the matter by stating that the bond of union among men in the final stage of evolution is love, and love is also the pnrpose and the essence of the religious life. According to Teilhard it is only with man that love appears on earth. Sexuality ap-peared first in the evolntionary history of the world as an exclusively physical phenomenon h~ving as its primary function the conservation of the biological species. But with the coming of man sex begins to manifest a spiritual dimension which is ever expanding. The personalizing function of sexual love is becoming more and more prominent. Teilhard uses sexual love in a much wider sense than the merely genital: "Sexual love is rather the personal union in oneness of being achieved by a man and a woman, an interpenetration and constant exchange of thoughts, dreams, affections, and prayers." al He says that there is a general drift of matter towards spirit in sexual love the ideal of which is found in Christ who authenticated celibacy, "a human aspiration that had been maturing in the human soul." :v, Celibacy is the evidence of humanity's ability to affect the transcendence to which it aspires. Speaking of his own witness to this he says: To the full extent of my power, because I am a priest I wish from now on to be the first to become conscious of all that the world loves, pursues and suffers; I want to be the first to seek, ~ Christopher F. Mooney, op. cit,, p. 209. ~Teilhard de Chardin, Letters to Leontine Zanta (London, 1969), p. 33. ~t Charles W. Freible, S.J., "Teilhard, Sexual Love, and Celibacy," R~w~w ro~ R~L~C,~OUS, v. 26 (1967), p. 289. ~'~ Ibid., p. 290. 4- 4- 4- Teiihard and Commitment VOLUME 30, 1971 773 to sympathise and to suffer; the first to open myself out and sacrifice myself--to become more widely human and more nobly of the earth than any of the world's servants.= By his vows he wished to recapture all that was good in love, gold, and independence. The religious therefore, far from being a deserter is the witness to the final end of man's striving, to his aspira-tion for spiritualization and complete Christification of his life. Christ preaches purity, charity, and self-denial-- but what is the specific effect of purity if it is not the concen-tration and sublimation of the manifold powers of the soul, the unification of man in himself? What again does charity effect if not the fusion of multiple individuals in a single body and a single soul, the unification of men among themselves? And what finally does christian self-denial represent, if not the deconcentration of every man in favor of a more perfect and more loved Being, the unification of all in one.~ The religious is precisely the especially chosen to show forth in'his life the joy of the new resurrection to which the whole of humanity tends. Finally, the consummation in glory that mankind awaits is not merely the dream of a distant future. The transformation and divinization of the universe occurs sacramentally in the Mass when the bread and wine rep-resenting mankind and mankind's universe become Christ. The Euchararistic consecration renders present the final victory for mankind which will bring a new heaven and a new earth and Christ will be all in all. The Divine Mih'eu, p. 105. Science and Christ, p. ~4. + + + Peter Byrne REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 774 SISTER MARY HUGH CAMPBELL The. Particular Examen-- Touchstone of a Genuinely Apostolic Spirituality There is perhaps today no prayer-category considered so lifeless, so vulnerable to attacks of "formalism," so rejected as a lure of regression into an exclusive and introverted Jesus-and-I existence as is the particular ex-amination of conscience. Yet it held pride of place in a spirituality characterized as one of dynamism, initiative, and filan--that of Ignatius Loyola, a spirituality pecul-iarly suited, it would seem, to attract adherents in our last third of the twentieth century, when man has finally admitted his basic call to be a movement out of himself to serve that brother who has now displaced the sun as the center of his universe. The ideal of Ignatius was first and last apostolic: "To serve Christ through the aid of souls in companionship." 1 And to attain it, "he seemed to count primarily on the examens of conscience, exercises from which he never dispensed." "' One of his early followers, Louis Lallemant, the master of novices who formed Isaac Jogues, echoed Ignatius in his insistence upon the apostolate as the sum-mit of the spiritual life: "The last reach of the highest perfection in this world is zeal for souls." s And to attain this ideal, he prescribed the same "slow work of purifica- 1 Cited by John C. Futrell, S.J., Making an Apostolic Community o] Love (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), p. 14. -"Alexandre Brou, S.J., La spiritualitd de saint lgnace (Paris: Beauchesne, 1928), p. 23. aCited by Francois Courel, S.J., ed., La vie et La doctrine spiri-tuelle du P~re Louis Lallemant (Paris: Descl~e de Brouwer, 1959), p. 25. Subsequent references to Courel are references to his intro-duction; when the work itself is in question, Lallemant will be cited. Sister Hugh is a member o~ the Di-vinity School of St. Louis University; 3825 West Pine; St. Louis, Missouri 63~08. VOLUME 30, 1971 ÷ ÷ ÷ Sister Hugh REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 776 tion and discernment." 4 Francis de Sales, accorded new relevance todi~y as having been among the first to sense the need of a spirituality adjusted to life in the secular sphere, himself a product o{ Jesuit training, taught Phil-othea in his Devout I~i[e that the examen, which he called the "spiritual retreat," was "the great heart of de-votion," which on occasion "can supply the lack of all other prayers." '~ Each of these was a man of ~nvolvement; and for each of them Lallemant's dictum held true: the attention he paid to external things, instead of weaken-ing his union witlt God, served rather to strengthen it, because in the last analysis, the equilibrium of the apos-tolic life was a matter of the love which was to be exer-cised in everything. And for each of the three, the partic-ular examen--by whatever name--held primacy of place among spiritual exercises. The word "discernment" is enjoying a new vogue at the moment; it is vaguely sensed that the notion is cen-tral to the spiritual life in a century of acceleration, and that in some nebttlous way it means a form of prayer-in-activity for which many are searching. This is very true. Yet the term has a disciplined precision of meaning: it is the name for the entire, dynamic process of discovering and responding to the actual word of God here and now.~ It is the core of Ignatian spirituality. Within it--and one might add, only within it--"the practice of daily examens of conscience is completely intelligible." ~ A life of discernment is one in which one's core experi-ence of self-identity as openness to Christ personally known is the ground of all his conscious choices. Each significant decision is made after prayer and a careful weighing of all available evidence (a vahtable element of tire latter being often the counsel of another), and con-firmed--~ tlways, of course, in faith--by the peace which testifies to its affinity with one's primordial experience of being possessed by Christ. Gradually even lesser decisions are sttccessively, almost instinctively, submitted to the same process of alignment until one ends by finding Christ everywhere, as willing and accepting this concrete service of love. Discernment is not ttnderstood, however, as the sum toted of prayer: moments of distancing from the human situation are essential if one is to give expres-sion to his faith-experience of union with Christ, an ex-pression without which it cannot know new illumination or deepening. Only in this way can he be assured of ~ Courel, Vie, p. 24. '~ Cited by Aloys Pottier, S.J., Le P. Louis Lallemant et les grands spirituels de son temps (Paris: Tequi, 1928), pp. 342 f. passim. 6John C. Futrcll, S.J., lgnatian Discernment (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1970), pp. 47-52. r Ibid., p. 81. finding Christ in more ambiguous choices, and in those even more painful decisions in which he discerns the paradox of absurdity to be the condition for his finding him. The increasing incalculability, if one may so term it, of man's evolving universe might alone render discernment a delicate, even a hazardous, process. Personal notes of Ignatius reveal the prolonged tension which important decisions produced in him, and the slow, painful groping for certitude which followed them. Yet difficult as these were, he very realistically saw that man had within him sources of darkness which could render any discernment at all impossible. Another element was necessary before one could hope to make decisions in the clarity of truth: personal freedom from anything that could close him to the light. As Lallemant, who followed him, was later to call it, the other pole of discernment was "the study of purity of heart." 8 An illuminating study might result from a search into the imagery by which saints and theologians throughout the ages have inscaped man's frightening potency for evil. Olier's "stagnant pool," Marmion's "depth of our way-wardness," Rahner's "deadly abyss of [utility"--all alike point to a reality which it is impossible to dismiss. Lalla-anant wrote very candidly of the "muddy well" in which "a multitude of desires are unceasingly fermenting," a well "full of false ideas and erroneous judgments." ~ To assign to each of these its local habitation and its name-- to say them as they are in us--is the cotmterpoise of discernment, and an exercise at least as painful as the former. Examination of conscience, then, is a proviso, a sine qua non. And Lallemant recognized that "the heart re-coils from nothing so much as this search and scrutiny. all the powers of our soul are disordered beyond measure, and we do not wish to know it, because the knowledge is humiliating to us." 10 To dispense with it is, as P. de Ponlevoy incisively saw, to rester darts le vague.11 On the contrary, one who "submits to the real" has given up the dreams which kept him marking time, because he finally found the real to be truer and less deceiving than dreams,v' Seen in this light the examen becomes a disci-pline of authenticity, a sharpening of the pole of purity of heart which ensures gentfineness of docility to the Spirit. Lallemant saw a direct correlation between super- Courel, Vie, p. 81. Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 140. Ibid., pp. 141-2. Cited by Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 344. a~Antoine Delchard, S.J., "L'filection darts la vie quotidienne," Christus, v. 14 (1958), pp. 206-19 passim. ÷ ÷ ÷ Particular Examen VOLUME ,~0, 1971 4" 4" 4" REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 778 ficial examens and lack of sensitiveness tt~ the guidance of the Spirit; on the other hand, he was convinced that "they who have applied themselves for three or four years to watch over their interior, a.ud have made some prog-ress in this holy exercise, know already how to treat a multitude of cases with address and absence of all rash judgment." 1.s It would be difficult to label as "formalism" the exigen-cies of Lallemant's asceticism: "guard of one's heart; deep and prolonged examens; progressive purifications contin-ued for years." 14 He defined purity of heart to mean "having nothing therein which is in however small a degree opposed to God and the operation of His grace." 1.5 And he went so far as to say that this was the exercise of the spiritual life against which the spirit of evil directed most opposition. He urged those under his charge to guard themselves carefully from any deliberate resistance to the Spirit by venial sin, to learn to recognize the first disorderly movements of their hearts, to watch over and regulate their thoughts, so as to recognize the inspirations of God--so as to be able, in other words, clearly to discern the word of God in the concrete situa-tions which presented themselves. He declared that "we never have vices or imperfections without at the same time having false judgments and false ideas." a0 And yet he insisted that this work of moving toward ever greater openness and freedom be done calmly, and especially that it be joined to a deep devotion to the person of Christ: examination was never to become the cult of itself. Such constant, increasingly more honest surveillance is taxing; he admitted this. Actually, in the words of those he directed, "he required nothing else ]rom us but this constant attention." His ultimate counsel was that of Christ: Vigilate--watch; until n~thing should escape one's attention, until the inner roots from which egotism took its rise were destroyed. He expected, in the end, spontaneity without strain, sureness of discernment, readiness, in the service of souls, for the cross. And among those who listened, noted, and demanded of himself this most to be dreaded of all disciplines, of all confronta-tions, was Isaac Jogues. Many have been alienated from the exercise because they conceived the medium as the message; the little check-list of "G's," familiar from the Exercises, was iso-lated from the spirit--so absolutely aware of the needs of his own temperament, yet so absolutely respectful of the freedom of others--of the Basque soldier who drew it up Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 262. Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 168. Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 80. Ibid., p. 101. for his own searing symbols of an utterly blunt honesty with himself. His strategy had the labored realism of one for whom the calculated small gains of military planning had been a fact of daily experience; and if his proposed concentration upon one fault at a time has impressed many as me.chanistic and rigid, it has been suggested that their preference for prolonging sterile efforts endlessly is hardly less painful.17 And Ravignan notes, in this connec-tion, "How strong one is, when he concentrates all his energy in unity. To think of only one thing, wish only one thing, do, finally, only one thing is the secret of all power." 18 And in the mind of Ignatius, this "one thing" was response in freedom to the word one had clearly discerned. In the end, it had become quite simply his life. No less than the check-list, the well-known "five points" of the two daily examens have been misunder-stood and exteriorized. Ignatius saw three different times of day and two examinations to be involved when he advocated the practice; but the laconic outline in which he explains them must be seen in the light of his final "Contemplation to Attain the Love of God," especially in its close where he sees God as a fountain from which all goodness pours out on him, a light in which everything bathes. Gerard Manley Hopkins has, in an unfinished lyric, given rich expression to Ignatius' simple prose: Thee, God, I come from, to thee go, All day long I like fountain flow From thy hand out, swayed about Mote-like in thy mighty glow. What I know of thee I bless, As acknowledging thy stress On my being and as seeing Something of thy holiness . '~ This is why the first point is a prayer of gratitude for the goodness and forgiveness which are man's twofold debt. Louis du Pont has probed the familiar method in order to discover its marrow: the optimism which pre-scribed gratitude first, thus guarding against sadness; the realism of seeing that the memory is so unfaithful, the mind so darkened, and the will so loveless that there is deep need of prayer for light. The examination itself, the third point, is a sincere acknowledgment of good, where this is recognized; and in the admission of sin or failure there is a counsel to do this in a spirit of the untranslata-ble douceur--that gentleness which refrains from turning bitter reproaches against itself, but rather grieves over the H. Pinard de la Boullaye, S.J., La spiritualitd ignatienne (Paris: Plon, 1949). Cited by Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 93. W. H. Gardner and N. H. MacKenzie, ed., The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Oxford: Oxford University, 1970), n. 155, p. 194. + + Particular E~amen VOLUME 30, 1971 779 + ÷ ÷ Sister Hugh REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 780 injury to One who has poured himself out, as fountain and light, in such generous giving. After the expression of perfect sorrow, one is urged in a fifth point to an efficacious resolution--so, practical as to foresee and so circumvent future failure. Previsioned when rising, this exercise is to be made at two different times of the day--at noon, and again after the evening meal,.and this in addition to a final, general examination made before retiring. Such a discipline can only confirm the fact that, throughout the Exercises, Ig-natius "supposes that one knows where he is going and wants to get there, and is ready to take the best means, then to examine those which present themselves, to weigh them, to choose them with knowledge of the cause." 20 In a word, lie s~pposed that one was ready to discern, among many means, that one whose cause was the inspi-ration of the Spirit; through long experience with his own peculiar cast of egotism, he would swiftly dismiss false weights. And those who followed this profound psy-chologist- saint did know where they were going, and did want to get there: the summit of apostolic zeal. Such a man as Claude de la Colombi~re, to take a single exam-ple, vowed never to pass from one occasion to another without a backward-forward look: from self-scrutiny to discernment. Again, from these particular exercises, described as j;ournalier, Ignatius never dispensed: "The importance accorded these examens is the touchstone of truly igna-tian spirituality." '-'x And the ~ournalier--"daily"--has been interpreted by some as actually occupying the whole day. For such a man as Lallemant, it actually did. He described as one of the greatest of all graces that of being "SO watchful that the least irregular movement rising in the heart is perceived and immediately corrected, so that in the space of a week, for example, we should perform very few external or internal acts of which grace is not the principle."'-'" Particular examen and discernment thus become arsis and thesis of a single life, until finally "some have no need of making a particular examen, be-cause they no sooner commit the least fault than they are immediately reproved for it and made aware of it; for they walk always in the light o~ the Holy Spirit, who is their guide. Such persons are rare, and they make a par-ticular examen, so to say, out of everything." 2~ All the energies of the person are concentrated in a single care not to sully the light which ponrs into and then from him, an instrument entirely at the service of Christ. Such ~ Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 83. .-t Pottier, Le P. Louis Lallemant, p. 335. = Lallemant, Doctrine, p. 228. '-"~ Ibid., p. 229. men have reached that fullness of the apostolate which is the summit of the spiritual life, discerning as they do in entire freedom that which is most conducive to the reign of God. So conceived, the examen is possible under an infinite number of forms; endlessly supple, it can be adapted to a variety of conceptual, cultural, and temperamental differ-ences. But always it is a sincere and considered pursuit of an ideal which is one's own most personal name given him by God: "The particular examen, practiced by a soul which has begun to climb, is sacrifice which has reached the stage of being one's rule of life." ,.,4 Far from having become "irrelevant" in spiritualities vowed to the genu-ine only, it is rather the infallible touchstone of their authenticity. -"~ Brou, Spiritualitd, p. 96. ÷ ÷ ÷ Particular Examen VOLUME 30, 1971 78] JAMES C. FLECK, S.J. The Israeli Kibbutz and the Catholic Religious. Community: A Study of Parallel Communal Life Styles j. c. Fleck, S.J., lives at Apartment 208; 150 Driveway; Ottawa, Canada. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The kibbutz movement in Israel consits of about 250 agricultural-industrial collectives. They have a popula-tion of 90,000, slightly tinder 4% of the Jewish popula-tion in the State of Israel. This population includes full members (Jewish men and women, nearly all married, who have completed their military service and have been accepted by the kibbutz after a trial period of a year or two), the children of the kibbutz members, selected lead-ers of the Jewish youth movement abroad who plan even-tually to join a kibbutz, U1pan students (predominantly Jewish) who combine study and work on the kibbutz for periods ranging from six months to a year, and volun-teers (predominantly non-Jewish) who volunteer to work on the kibbutz for at least a month in return for room, board, and a very small amount of spending money. The first kibbutz was founded in Israel in 1909. The largest period of growth was prior to and immediately after the Second World War. In this period the kibbutz population represented nearly 10% of the nation. In the past fifteen years there has been no significant growth in the number of kibbutzim. The slightly increasing num-bers of kibbutzniks is accounted for primarily by internal growth, due to an increasing average family size. There are four federations to which nearly all kib-butzim belong. Each one is delineated by the political party to which it is or was affiliated. One, the smallest federation comprising 4,000 members (3% of the total kibbutz population), is religious, consisting of practicing Orthodox Jews. The other kibbutz federations shade fi'om non-religious to anti-religious. The land tilled by the kibbutzim is owned by the Is-raeli government throngh the Jewish National Fund. The original physical plant is financed by the govern-ment on low-interest long-term loans. When a kibbutz becomes operationally profitable it pays regular corpora-tion taxes. In addition, the kibbutz must pay a national consumption tax on the living expenditures of its mem-bers comparable to the personal income tax paid by the general public. The purpose of this study is to examine parallels in the life style between the kibbutz movement and Catholic religious orders. Wbile the common life in the two insti-tutions are often merely analogous, they are in many instances equivalent. Thus, a knowledge of the kibbutz movement can provide valuable insights in examining religious orders. The Kibbutz as a Religious Sect The basic motivating factors that built the kibbutz movement are: (l) Zionism, (2) Marxism, (3) the German Youth (Wandervogel) Movement. The founders of the kibbutz movement rejected the religion, the life style, the family structure, and the business interests of the Euro-pean Jewish community of the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The Wandervogel Movement fostered a spirit of youth peer group identity, a desire to return to nature, and a spirit of travel and adventure. Marx offered a model of productive and consumptive collectivism in a secular society. Zionism offered an escape from European anti-semitism and a positive aspiration of nation-building.~ The Pristine "'Religious" Values Based on the Boy Scouts, the Wandervogel Movement had basic principles which were incorporated into the kibbutz ideology. They include: truth, loyalty, brother-hood, dependability, a love of nature, obedience to the group, joy in living, generosity in work, courage, and purity in tbougbt, word, and deed. This latter was inter-preted to mean opposition to drinking, smoking, and sex-ual relationships. The Youth Movement believed all the pettiness and sordidness of human behavior was a func- ~ Melford E. Spiro. Kibbutz, Venture in Utopia, New York, pp. 44, 48, 175 ft. 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 783 ÷ ÷ J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 784 tion of city living with its concomitant luxuries and false conventions." Consequently the early kibbutz movement was marked by asceticism. There was a rejection of material comfort, abstinence from alcohol and tobacco, no "ball room" (lancing, no motion pictures, simple housing and cloth-ing, no children (since they would pnt a financial burden on the community), communal property, common toilets and showers, dormitories, common dining hall, simple and inexpensive food, an emphasis on hard physical work and menial tasks. The Faith of the Kibbutz Marxism is the religion of the kibbutz. The basic maxim is: "From each according to his ability; to each according to his need." Initially the kibbntzniks hoped to find a form of collective salvation in withdrawal from the world and the re-establishing of a microcosm o{ the per-fect society based on fellowship. It next blossomed into a militant sect devoted to converting the world.:~ Today the kibbutz movement has returned to its pristine withdrawal state of conversion by witness. Karl Marx has been the prophet for this faith. His writings served as intellectnal fare, inspiration, sacred and therefore infallible norms.4 The attitude of the So-viet Union vis-a-vis Israel has had the effect of diluting kibbutz Marxism. Bnt in the early years Marx was dog-matic truth. Human failings could be tolerated, but not political differences. Even today, deviations from either basic Marxist concepts or pristine kibbutz ideals offer occasions for schisms and deep polarizations within a par-ticular kibbntz. Faihlre of a given kibbutz to vote "cor-rectly" in a national election is cause for its ejection from the basic kibbutz federation and political party to which it is allied. The Vows Chastity--While there is no binding force of conscience eqnivalent to the traditional religious vows, membership in a kibbutz implies a permanent but not binding commit-ment. Members are free to leave if they lose their "voca-tion," and their departure is mourned in the same way a religious regrets the departnre of a close friend from the Order. The "apostate," however, is welcomed back if he wishes to return. But with this exception of personal freedom for departure, permanent commitment to the group ideal is a sine qua non for a happy kibbutz life. The sexual idealism in the kibbntz movement has II)id., p. 43. Ibid., p. 180. Ibid., p. 184. never been consistent. The Boy Scout concept of purity derives from the Christian ideals of its European and American proponents. The Jewish founders of the kib-butz movement experienced tiffs value as a rejection of the romantic sexual conduct of the European society o~ their youth. They wanted to change the false sexual mo-rality of the city, the patriarchal authority of the male, the dependence of the child on his father, and the subjec-tion of women.~ The sense of "organic community" that the early kib-butzniks experienced as young men and women is related to their freedom from the restrictions imposed upon sex-uality by their contemporary society. They practiced a trial and error, sexual code that included polygyny and polyandry. Mating was entered into at will. But as the original founders aged, their sexual attitudes have be-come surprisingly conventional.6 Pre-marital sex among the school children is actively discouraged. Marriage is today a formal, and often religious, event. Patriarchal ties have returned. The relative affluence of the kibbutzim has ended the era of few or no offspring. This change has been augmented by the population growth stimulus instituted by the Israeli government in response to military manpower requirements connected with national security. Yet casual sex has no moral stigma within kibbutz life, and abortion requests are routinely handled by the kib-butz medical committee. These seeming contradictory ex-periences can be understood only in the context of the general Jewish belief that sexuality is a personal matter, not one of group concern, unless the sexual activity has consequences affecting the community. The Spartan attitude toward sexual abstinence ended when the young men and women who founded the kib-butzim experienced the eroticism engendered by "organic community." This youthful abandon has subsequently matured into a conventional sex-marriage code no differ-ent from that of the general Israeli populace. And with the lack of privacy in the kibbutz as well as the dispropor-tionate amount of social damage that infidelity wreaks in a small community, kibbutz sexnal morality approximates that of any small village. Poverty--Just as sexual morality has had an erratic path in the kibbutz history, so too their attitude toward the possession of material goods. The pristine attitude of the founders was .essentially a negative reaction to the bour-geois mentality of their forefathers in the Jewish communi-ties of Enrope. Ostracized in many instances by the Gentile majority, the Jew was unable to compete for social and n Ibid., p. 54. ~ Ibid., p. 110-117. 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLU~E 30, 1971 785 J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 786 economic prestige with his non-Jewish counterparts. As a result, the ghetto Jew attained personal ego satisfactions in business acumen, especially in areas connected with money where traditional Christian restrictions on usury opened up opportunities. Intellectual pursuits leading to l~rominent positions in the professions were a later development of the 19th and 20th centuries. But the possession of land and agricultural interests were not part of the self-image of the pre-Israel Jew. The rejection of materialism and capitalism are an integral part of the developing kibbutz ideal. The found-ers, were, almost without exception, intellectuals. The idealization of common labor was for them a cultural revolution. Raised in a tradition of prestige and aspira-tion for upward mobility in society, they deliberately chose the reverse. Instead of aspiring to "rise" in the social ladder, they chose to "descend." 7 Having to do without material possessions was both a concomitant of this conscious decision and a result of it. The early kibbutzniks had what Melford Spiro calls "two moral principles." These were (1) the sacral nature of work and (2) the communal possession of property. Labor was to be a uniquely creative act and an ultimate value. Through labor man would become one with himself, with society, with nature.8 The early kibbutzniks experienced this sacral nature of work in their conquest of the desert and the swamps which were the only lands made available to them by the Arab landowners prior to 1948. Those kibbutzim estab-lished after Israel became a State were often located in similar agriculturally disadvantaged areas for strategic reasons. Personal sacrifice and "doing without" were per-sonal virtues that made possible the economic success of the group effort. All personal aspirations and creature comforts had to be subordinated to the common good. With the exception of a few struggling new kibbutzim along the post-1967 borders, this period of sacrifice has passed. Although limits on the amount of water that can be used for cultivation and a crop surplus condition in Israeli agriculture have imposed ceilings on land use, many collectives are maintaining and increasing profita-bility by operating factories which in turn have increased the kibbutz standard of living. The communal facilities that were an economic necessity in the pioneer era have given away to luxury apartments, a private social life, advanced education, extended vacations, and other phe-nomena related to economic well-being. Ideological ascet-icism is not an operative principle in contemporary kib-butz life. Not surprisingly, a great number of the contem- 7 Ibid., p. 14. s Ibid., p. 12. porary problems in the kibbutz movement stem from the vast discrepancy between the physical privations of the early kibbntzim and the high standard of living and expec-tations of the present members. Obedience--In a first glimpse of the organizational strncture of a kibbutz, one would discern little there that reflects the monarchical authority structnre that pervades both Catholic ecclesiastical organizations and the religious orders. The ideal of the kibbutz is total democracy. Execu-tive authority is a delegated power, revocable, and subject to a constant change of personnel. The executive branch functions only to implement group decisions. Each indi-vidual kibbutz is essentially autonomous from the federa-tion to which it belongs. The officers of the federation have no direct antbority over the activities of any mem-ber kibbutz. All decisions are made at the local level by vote and the majority opinion is binding on tbe minor-ity. But no majority is irrevocable. The minority may campaign for a reversal. There is a minority compliance "by necessity" but nothing resembling the "submission of tile understanding." Tile will of the majority has to be obeyed for pragmatic reasons, to preserve the common good. But any decision can be, and often is, reversed. Even certain "essentials" of the founders can be changed if the kibbutz members no longer consider them a cur-rent value, or if the life of the kibbutz itself is at stake by continued adherence to an outdated fundamental princi-ple. The typical kibbutz is closer to the Benedictine model of religions life than to the Jesuit form. Membership in a particular kibbutz is akin to monastic stability. The his-toric connection between the monastery and its fields is similar to the main kibbntz economic enterprise. The kibbutz, like the monastery, has a self-contained cultural environment; library, music, beautification of the grounds, locally produced music and entertainment, and the chapter. Unlike the monastic uadition, no kibbutz has a perma-nent official like that of a life-tenured abbot. Nor do office holders have the long terms allowed by canon law. The kibbutz executive personnel pool is rotated from one ex-ecutive task to another with short interim periods as com-mon laborers. Executive efficiency is somewhat reduced by such rapid turnovers, but the movement prefers this to an entrenched hierarchy. Fnrther, it increases the partici-pation of the membership in decision-making operations of the kibbutz. The nsual term for a kibbutz office is one year.° For a few highly specialized tasks, for example, the treasurer, it runs two years, no more. ~ Ibid., p. 78; see Dan Leon, The Kibbutz, a New Way of Life, Oxford, 1969. 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 787 ÷ ÷ ÷ J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS '788 In a remarkable number of ways the kibbutz resembles traditional Catholic religious life. A messianic ideological basis of membership is parallel to both.Being a kibbutz-nik is "a way of life" comparable to a religious vocation. The inOividual is expected at times to sacrifice his per-sonal ambitions and opportunities to the group needs. The members' meeting has many of the aspects of a com-munity liturgy, as do the secular celebrations in the kib-butz of the national and religious holidays. Each kibbutz follows a common style of life and the kibbutz is often referred to as an extended family. Aspirants must try out the life and be accepted. They usually must dispose of their material wealth upon admission. There is security for the ill and the infirm. Members are not rewarded economically for their productivity or profitability. The federation to which each kibbutz belongs resem-bles to some extent the province of the religious order. Recruiting of youth leaders, new members, Ulpan stu-dents and vohlnteers are bandied at tbe central level as are contacts with the government and the army. The federation has an internal tax system to equalize income discrepancies between richer and poorer kibbutzim. Most federations have produced a model constitution for their member kibbutzim. Each kibbutz is taxed a number of its members to staff federation offices and overseas re-cruiting posts (missions). The federation, in union with the national trade union, handles both buying and sell-ing cooperatives, runs research centers and regional high schools for kibbntz children.1° Today the federations have joined toget_her to found a centralized kibbutz uni-versity to provide for the increasing number of kibbutz youth who want both a university education and an envi-ronment in which their kibbutz values will be preserved. The arguments used for establishing this new educational effort are ahnost identical to those used in the 19th and 20tb centuries for Catholic high schools and universities. Charity Fraternal love, over and above its function as a crite-rion for true Christianity, has been considered a hallmark of religious life, and a sine qua non of common life. In the "organic community" which the founders of the kib-butzim experienced in their pioneer days in Israel, this same basic group fellowship and fraternal love was pres-ent. The movement was small and each person knew every other member well. They were economically and socially interdependent. Their lives depended on mutual security. They were, as a group, alone in a foreign and (langerous land, cnt off from outside aid. Their bond of friendship was solidified in a common ideology, in oppo-a" Op. cir., Leon, p. 158. sition to the false value system of the world, and in a common enemy, the Arab. These same three basic princi-ples have beeu present in every religious order; some concrete vision of Christianity conceived by their found-ers, the false value system of a pagan or barely Christian world, and the enemy, successively the devil, the pagan Romans, and finally heretics. The passage of time and aging has effected major changes in the first ardor of the kibbutzniks, as it has on the members of many long established religious orders. One kibbutznik reported to Spiro: "The evening meetings, (lances and song, group conversation, and the sharing of experiences--these are the phenomena of youth. The retirement to their own rooms and the substi-tution of private for group experiences is not the result of the influx of stangers . It represents . an inevitable retreat on the part of middle-aged people from the group-centered activities of an adolescent youth move-ment, to interests which are more congenial to their own age--children, friends, and personal concerns." ~x The kibbutz movement has faced up to a reality which hitherto has destroyed practically every ntopian society ever attempted by man, except possibly the Catholic reli-gious orders, the inability to re-create a new man in the institutiug of a new way of life?e Some of the larger kibbutzim have nearly 2000 residents. Only a handful are less than 100. Universal friendship is obviously impossi-ble. Deep interpersonal relationships are cuhivated be-tween husband, wife, and their immediate family. Other close friendships are built around those in neighboring apartments or those whom they meet in work fnnctions. Relationships to other kibbutzniks is functional not per-sonal. Nor does the kibbutz attempt to abolish natural indi-vidual aggressive tendencies. It merely channels them into socially acceptable substitntes. Gossip and petty criti-cism abound. Quarreling, but no physical violence, is common. Skits at community entertainments satirize non-conformists. Aggression is channeled into pride in one's own family, work ability, success of one's economic branch in the kibbutz, and participation in national politics?:~ If universal charity were an essential prerequi-site for the successful functioning of kibbutz society, the movement would have failed long ago. The system has been devised to operate without it, subordinating indi-vidualism to the common good, and substituting for char-ity the personal involvement of each kibbutznik in group decision making. Op. cit., Spiro, p. 216. Ibid., p. 236, 103. Ibid., p. 103-107. + Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 789 ÷ ÷ ÷ ~. C. Fleck, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 790 Generation Gap One of the "essentials" of the early kibbutz movement was the communal raising of children. Immediately after birth, the child was placed with his peers and raised by a community appointed nurse. This same system was fol-lowed throughout childhood. Boys and girls of the various kibbutz parents were raised as brothers and sisters. This accounts for the lack of a normal amount of pre-marital sexual activity among young people who live in close proximity even after puberty. Sex activity between boys and girls of the same age groui~ would be incest, an almost unheard of problem in a kibbutz. However, as the young people raised in this communal manner have returned to their kibbutz as full adult members, they have generally asked for a major change in the system. They want to raise their own children at home. Throughout the entire kibbutz movement this issue has been raised. In every federation except the one which is most Marxist-oriented the young people have endetl the absohlte commtmal rearing of the children, Since the young couples were ntu.nerically outnumbered, the process by which they won over the majority opposed to their demands for a revolutionary change proves en-lightening. The kibbutz at Kefar Blum recently under-went such an experience.~4 When the young people pro-posed this radical change they were voted down by an 80-20% vote. When the results were tabulated the young people decided they would leave this kibbutz and found one of their own with their rules. This would eventually lead to the death by attrition of the older kibbutz. Recog-nizing this, the older members formed reconciliation committees designed to keep up the hopes of the young and change the minds of the old. A new vote was taken several weeks after the intial setback. This time the youngster's proposal won by an 80-20 vote. As the government is anxious to form new kibbutzim in border areas, young Israelis can easily become founders of a new kibbutz, sharing the same challenges and oppor-tunities their elders had in the pioneer years. To over-come this possible source of defection of younger mem-bers, most kibbutzim practice rapid advancement of tal-ented young people into positions of responsibility. There is no waiting for years while the entrenched old guard dies off before the young people can achieve posi-tions of authority and adopt new policies in keeping with the needs of the clay. James c. Fleck, s.J., private notes taken during a study of the kibbntz movement, Israel, October-November, 1970. Employment outside the Kibbutz This is a growing phenomenon in the kibbutz move-ment paralleled by an increasing number of religious men and women employed in apostolic work and employ-ment not part of a corporate apostolate. For a kibbutz member to undertake such work he must have commu-nity approval. While many working outside the kibbutz are employed in various federation projects, an increasing number are engaged in "secular" activity, outside indus-try, government, and teaching. Their salary is either paid directly to the kibbotz or turned in to the kibbntz treas-nrer by the individual. One factor not present in snch kibbutz outside employ-ment is the gradual diminishing interest of the individual in his collective during the months and years the man may be working outside the kibbutz. Since Israel is very small, the outside employee almost always lives on the kibbutz with his family and returns there after work. In the case of those stationed in more remote sections of the country, or working in the government or in the army, they return to the kibbutz each Friday night on the Sab-bath eve. This same holds true of kibbutz students study-ing at the university or the technical institute. The mem-bers do not endanger their commitment to the collective way of life by prolonged absence from their kibbutz. Use o~ Money The strictness of control over independent use of money varies according to which federation the kibbutz is affiliated with. Ha Artzi, the most Marxist, is also the strictest. No one may possess any outside money nor is there an internal money system. The other federations are more flexible. In some each member is paid "script" or "kibbutz money" each month to use in lieu of Israeli currency at the kibbutz store for personal items. In others the members have a charge accotmt credited against a monthly allowance. The Ha .drtzi kibbutzim also require all new members to dispose of all property and money they possess after the intitial trial period. Other kibbutzim permit mem-bers to retain previously acquired wealth and even use the money independently of the kibbutz so long as the member does not use any of the money for improving his own life style in the kibbutz. Some demand that members deposit such funds with the kibbutz on a non-interest bearing basis. The money is returned if the new member ever leaves the kibbutz. In most kibbutzim today individual members are given a monthly credit covering items over which he may exer- 4- 4- 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30~ 1971 791 4. 4. 4. J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 792 cise individual discretion, such as clothes, a household allowance, food for one's apartment, and the annual va-cation. In most instances the individual can make substi-tutions that better reflect his own tastes, more money for vacation and less clothes for examples. Housing In the early kibbutz days housing was primitive and inadequate. Many members lived in tents even during the winter months. Toilet and shower facilities were to-tally communal and produced a camaradarie not unlike that of army barracks life or that in athletic teams. Today the norm in most kibbutzim is a 2½ room apart-ment for all married members which usually includes a modern bathroom and also a kitchenette. As individual families are allowed to raise their own children this hous-ing allocation will have to be increased depending on the size of each f;imily, end~mgering the traditional equality of housing facilities. The newest apartments are allocated on a seniority basis which takes into account both the age of the member and the number of years he has belonged to the kibbutz. Expulsion Like any other communal society, on occasions mem-bers whose activities or ideas are not compatible with the group ideal are expelled from membership hy the kib-butz voting at a weekly meeting. Since most dissidents leave freely, expulsions are rare and several kibbutzim report that they are willing to allow expelled members to 'eturn after a probationary period. This tolerance is probably necessary in a communal society where the hus-band and a wife are both members of the kibbutz and when only one of them is expelled from membership. While normally the couple would leave together after expulsion proceedings, it is not unknown for one member to stay on alone since the remaining member's rights are not affected by the expulsion of the spouse. Vohtntary Departures The abandonment of a kibbutz "vocation" almost al-ways involves dissatisfaction on the part of the wife. As women usually work in the institutional housekeeping tasks, they enjoy the least modal satisfaction in their daily work. In many instances, too, the wife has come from outside the kibbutz movement, having married a kibbutz boy she met in the army. Spiro found that nearly every man leaving a kibbutz is prompted by his wife who ulti-mately prewfils in convincing her husband to leave.1'~ '~ Op. cit., Spiro, p. 223. Automobiles There are relatively few automobiles in a kibbutz car pool, since most of the motor vehicles are used for farm work. While most of the equipment consists of trucks and tractors, there are usually several private cars for officials whose work takes them into the city and for those mem-bers working outside the kibbutz. When not being used for official business, these cars are available, theoretically, for common use. Some abuses have been reported in the area of private possessiveness by those assigned private cars, but there seems to be no. widespread dissatisfaction. This is attributable in part to the convenience of public transportation throughout the country as well as the kib-bntz tradition of attending outside social functions as groups, transported by trucks fitted out with temporary seats, When an individual does have the use of a commu-nity car he is charged a mileage fee. Each member is allocated an annual kilometer allowance. He may pool this with other couples for extended trips and usually may transfer other credits from his monthly allowance toward a larger mileage usage of the private car. Mileage is charged only against personal use of the car, not for travel on kibbutz business. Clothing The federation Ha drtzi follows a policy of specifying in detail the clothes members may receive each year. A man gets a coat once every five years; a pair of pants, sweater, or jacket every year; a shirt every year. These rations are for Sabbath or dress clothes. Work clothes and shoes are issued as needed. The kibbutzim of the other federations normally assign a cash allowance for clothing, permitting the members to decide for themselves the kind of clothing they prefer. In the early days of the kibbutz movement each kib-butz had a common stock of clothing. The clothing was distributed without regard to sizes and washed without laundry marks. Each person wore what chance provided. But variations in size presented insuperable problems. The system was changed to grant each member personal possession of his own clothing. Radio and TV At first every kibbutz had a communal radio room. But as radios became cheaper, more and more members re-ceived them as gifts and kept the radios for their own private apartments. Today, a radio is considered a per-sonal item. Now there is in each kibbutz a TV room. As TV has become a part of the Israeli cnlture attendance in the TV + + + Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 793 4" 4" ~. C. Fleck, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 794 lounge is large. Bnt the limited broadcasting schedule and restriction of available channels has not yet made ¯ selection of the program to be watched a major commu-nity concern. There is, nonetheless, growing pressure for permitting members to have their own TV sets in their private apartments. Illness, Old Age, Death All kibbutzniks are covered tinder the national health service. In case of extraordinary expenses, such as special-ized foreign medical treatment, the kibbutz pays all costs for its members. In one sitnation recently at kibbutz Kefar Blum where open heart surgery bad to be per-formed in the United States on the daughter of one mem-ber and the kibbutz income was below normal, the ment-bets voted to meet the high surgical costs by voting out the annual household improvements and vacations and to substantially rednce the cigarette expenditures. Women are given rednced working hours during preg-nancy, and the required daily hours of work are progres-sively reduced as members age. But no one, except the infirm, is every really retired. Every member, as long as he lives, is expected to remain economically productive to the extent that his health allows. This minimum may be simply the caring for the roses in front of his apartment, but it is expected. Recently many kibbutzim have established actuarial funds to provide cash income for members during their old age. There are two reasons: (1) they believe there is a psychological need for infirm and retired people to feel that they are not a financial drain on the younger mem-bers; (2) there is concern over a possible future age imbal-ance. Since every member is always free to leave, some internal crisis in the kibbutz conld result some day in all the younger and productive members leaving the kibbutz, thus depriving the aged of the "living social security" provided by the younger members. At death members are buried simply in the kibbutz cemetery. Luxuries The tents and the tar-paper shacks that once housed the kibbutzniks have given way to modern concrete apart-ments, some with air-conditioning. The housing and fur-nishings for the average kibbutznik compare favorably with those of comparably skilled workmen in Israel's cit-ies. Depending on tastes and family skills, some kibbutz apartments approach lfigb fashion in their appearance. The women have modern stoves and refrigerators to feed their families at home when they wish. There are, as yet, no private telephones, TV, or automobiles. Work Tasks Ill general, inembers are allowed and encouraged to work in the particular department that they like best. The actual assignment is made by the work manager, but great care goes into making sure each member is happy. ~,'Vork assignments, like everything else in the kib-butz, is subject to the scrutiny of the weekly meeting. Assignment to disliked tasks sometimes has to be made by collective action. The individual assigned to such is expected to subordinate his own wishes to those of the community. In most cases the onerous jobs are assigned for short periods of time and given to a wide segment of the membership. Some tasks, such as kitchen clean-up and waiting table, are so universally disliked they have to be allotted in strict rotation. Candidates [or membership, tile U/pan students, and the temporary volunteers are almost always assigned to those tasks the regular members most dislike. Committees The Executive is a committee consisting of those mem-bers holding key administrative jobs and some "ministers without portfolio." The term of office on the Executive coincides with the term of their administrative job, one or two years at most. Tile Executive consists of six or seven members. These members are drawn from a pool of the acknowledged leaders in the kibbutz who rotate in and Out Of the more important leadership posts. Besides this top executive committee, there are myriad others covering every aspect of kibbutz life. Approxi- ~nately 50% of the members of a kibbutz are serving on some committee at any given time. Over a three year span, practically 100% of the membership participates in some committee work. There are a few who have opted out of this participatory democracy and refuse to serve on any committee. These few have narrowed their kibbutz lives to their work and their immediate family.~ The Apostolate The kibbutz serves two specific economic functions. It is both a commtmal productive society and a communal consumptive society. These two functions are coalesced into one organic community. There is in Israel another type of collective called the Moshave, where there is a communal productive system but private ownership in the consumption area. But for the kibbutznik the Marx-ist axiom "from each according to his ability and to each according to his need" dictates that their communal so- ~" Up. cit., Leon, p. 67. ÷ ÷ Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 795 + + + J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 796 ciety must combine the collective control of both produc-tion and consumption. Kibbutzim have been tried in the past in the cities where the members worked totally in outside industry and the kibbutz was formed primarily as a consumption society. Every attempt along this line has failed. There is in Jerusalem at this time a group who are hoping to organize a commune of professional people as a consump-tive kibbutz. But kibbutzniks do not expect this move-ment to succeed. They view the total integration of the community into both production and consumption as necessary for the survival of community life. The kibbutz in Israel is primarily an agricultural eco-nomic movement. The success of this movement in at-tracting and holding members can be attributed to the historical conditions which led the original founders to abandon the metropolises of Europe. They became en-chanted with nature, an enchantment which anyone who has ever had a hackyard vegetable garden or even a flower pbt in a window will understand. The grower as well as what is grown becomes in some psychological way a part of the basic life cycle of nature. Akin to this is the psychic reward a teacher sometimes feels as he watches his students grow and mature. The farmer, and to some ex-tent the teacher, become united to the invisible power of life itself. In recent years the kibbutz movement has added facto-ries to increase the standard of living, otherwise limited by crop quotas and water restrictions. These factories also provide a more satisfactory employment for those mem-bers technically inclined who would otherwise abandon the farm life of the kibbutz for industrial employment in the city. There are, however, fewer modal satisfactions in this type of work. Marx and a host of other analysts have noted the inherent alienation process at work in the fac-tory system. To some extent the kibbutz factories have disproved Marx's theory that this ~ense of alienation ex-perienced by factory workers can be overcome by com-munal ownership. Like the disliked jobs in the kitchen, most dull assembly line duties must be filled with hired casual labor or low cost volunteers. The External Enemy In traditional Catholic terminology the enemy of Christianity and therefore of Catholic religious orders was the world, the flesh, and the devil. In each era these primordial forces are concretized into existential realities. As such they are a motive for both joining and remaining a member of a religious order. It should be noted that this is a negative motive, and almost always found in conjunction with a positive aspect, namely the apostolate. The kibbutz movement has had equiwdent motivation: anti-semitism, the European bourgeois society, capitalism, the false wdue system of the city, Hitler, Nasser, and the Arab world. These are the kibbutz's world, flesh, and devil. There seems to have been a direct relationship between the presence, or perhaps more accurately an awareness of this presence, and the motivation for mem-bership in the kibbutz. Membership figures in kibbutz history show a positive correlation between increased membership and the danger from some facet of the exter-nal enemy. Since 1967 the kibbutz membership has shown its first marked increase in nearly two decades as the government, in the wake of the Six Day war, has begun to establish new kibbutzim in Syria, along the Jordan river in former Arab territory, and in the Sinai. Conclusions The ideological fervor of the early kibbutz movement that Spiro connected so intrinsically with classical Marx-ism has withered considerably in the Israeli kibbutzim. The kibbutz has become a desirable form of agricnltural life, not gracious but certainly pleasant. This is especially true for the Sabra, the young children of the kibbutz who accept kibbutz life as a natural and wholesome place to live, work, and raise their families. They are not espe-cially ideologically motivated despite great efforts by the kibbutz educational programs to continue the motivating principles of the kibbutz founders. Kibbutz membership still adds lustre and prestige to politicians and military leaders, something like the "log cabin" birth-place of 19th century American presidents. But the increasing "westernization" of Israel is rapidly diminishing the ego satisfaction of kibbutzniks, whose vocation was once considered the national ideal. The increasing standard of living is also having its effect. Except for work and meals in the common dining hall, there is little "common" living on an Israeli kib-butz. The family has replaced the commune as the center of interest of the members. The replacement of com-munal showers and toilets by private ones is a sign of increased privatization. The trend away from communal ownership in the consumptive sector is clear and likely irreversible. To some extend the Marxist Ha Artiz federation has most successfi~lly resisted these individualistic tendencies. But Marxist ideology has been so closely associated with the now discredited Soviet system (discredited not for intrinsic principles but because of Soviet foreign policy in the Middle East), that there is little evident grass-roots Marxist ideological fervor among the Artzi members. Thus the basic Messianic ideology is no longer an opera- 4, 4, 4- Kibbutzim VOLUME 30, 1971 797 + + + ]. C. Fleck, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 798 tive principle in the kibbutz movement, although some lip service is still paid to it in the literature of the move-ment. The religious fervor is gone; and, as has been shown in tiffs study, the ascetic principles of the Wandervogel Movement have also slowly eroded. Only the presence of a dangerous external enemy remains as a major factor in maintaining the kibbutz as kibbntz. For the kibbutzniks, there is a growing interest in the Israeli culture outside the barbed wire barriers of the kibbutz boundaries. Tel Aviv, Jernsalem, the beaches at Asbkalon, the symphony, the movie theatres, and jobs in outside industries are no longer an evil "world," an eneiny to be avoided. With both Hitler and Nasser dead, the Arab masses remain a clearly perceived danger, and a sufficient cause justifying the sacrifices intrinsically connected with living a com-munal life. The increasing toleration of personal prop-erty by kibbutz melnbers shows that the original kibbutz asceticism was a necessity of the moment, a means not an end. Taken altogether these factors indicate a shaky fu-tnre for the kibbutz movement in the long rtm. Only the miniscnle religious federation seems to have the tran-scendent valnes that will hold this gronp of kibbutzim together. This segment of the kibbutz movement has a proven long-run ideology, their Jewish Orthodox Faith and perduring external enemies, the secular Israeli state. For Roman Catholic religious gronps these principles of the kibbutz movement can indicate the hazards of certain contemporary trends in Catholic religious com-munities. There seems to be a serious drawback to any community in ending the integral connection between the conamunity apostolate and the common life, between the production and consumption activities. X,Vbatever the legal advantages of separate incorporation of the apos-tolic endeavor, it appears such a change may prove dys-functional to the best interests of the community unless some psychological identification can replace the legal one tying the commonity members to a common aposto-late. Otherwise the religious will become mere employees of their former vocational apostolate. Like kibbutz asceticism, the vows, traditional forms of Cbristifin asceticism, are also increasingly seen as merely ~neans which can and in some instances should be aban-doned as a condition for membership in the group, or for individnal apostolic effectiveness. The trend in substitut-ing community for poverty as the true significance of this evangelical counsel, presages many of the problems the kibbutzim have experienced in their trend toward more and more priw~tization and increasing personal property. At the moment Roman Catholics have no apparent "external enemies" of snfficient threat to bind members and aspirants to religious communities to the requisite personal sacrifices basic to any communal effort. Ecumen-ism has replaced enmity in relating to Protestantism. In-carnational theology no longer sees the world as a "valley of tears." Unity of doctrine is no longer a characteristic of the orders, or even theChurch. Increasing numbers of religious seek employment in secular jobs or outside the order's organized apostolates. The religious life no longer commands the prestige it once bad among the faithful. Tbe kibbutz movement has also shown several possibil-ities that have been traditionally lacking in Catholic reli-gious orders. A communal society of married conples is clearly possible and in some cqntemporary aspects possi-bly superior (in personal fulfilhnent and interpersonal love) to the celibate life. While the structures of existing religious communities do not seem likely to encompass this facet of communal life, it would not be surprising to see new communities of married religious come into exist-ence in the not too distant future. Another wdue of the kibbutz movement is the seeming success of communal groups based on a total democratic process. There are already some indications that the traditionally monarchi-cal religious orders are already moving swiftly to a capi-tular form of government. In most cases the founders of the majority of the Israeli kibbutzim are still alive and to some extent still reflecting the charism that marked the foundation of their commu-nity. Yet it appears that the "routinization of their cha-risma" is not likely to be overly successful. The ideological and "religious" sonrce of the kibbutz movement has al-ready given way to a rapid "secularization" of values by the second generation whose devotion to the kibbutz is either pragmatic or cultural. The positive inspiration of Zionism that has so effec-tively supported the establishment of a Jewish State will certainly diminish in time. Antisemitism is not a motive in a Jewish state, and thus not operative on the Sabra. If and when the Arab situation is normalized, the Kibbutz "external enemy" will also have disappeared. The pris-tine Marxist ideology has been snbject to constant revi-sion, and a wide range of personal and public views are now tolerated among kibbutzniks. The long range prognosis for the kibbutz movement is one of no sizeable growth and more than likely a rapid diminishing of the movement once peace comes to Israel. The small number o[ religious kibbutzim should remain active, as well as a limited number run by convinced Marxists. But the kibbutz movement as a whole will likely prove to have been a temporarily significant social structure in Israeli history due to the particular condi-tions that Jews faced in the 19th and 20th centuries. ÷ ÷ Kibbutzim VOLUME ~0, 1971 799 If this analogy between the kibbutz movement and Catholic religious community life is correct, and if the same present trends continne in both institutions, there is a reasonable predictability that many if not most of the present religion,s commonities may be viewed from some future historical perspective as having served the Church's vital needs effectively up to the end of the 20th century. "!" 4" 4- J. C. Fleck, S.J. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOI, JS 8O0 SISTER CHARLOTTE HANNON, S.N.D. DE N. The Graying of America The far left, the far right, the in-betweeners, the libs and the cons, the silent majority and the articttlate mi-nority have reached a consensus on one point at least-- they all agree that "Darling, you are grown older." Laughingly we sing the line at birthday parties and re-unions, but behind the laughter there is the realization that okt age and retirement are major concerns that warrant major consideration. If Toeffler in Future Shock has clone nothing else, he has alerted ns to the need for planning ahead. Last August and November the Finance Retirement Committee of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur of the Maryland Province sent out 415 questionnaires to religious communities across the country. The returns are interesting and informative as the following table indi-cates: Questionnaires sent out . 415 Questionnaires returned . 271 Retirement Plans in operation . 100 No Retirement Plan in operation . 171 Most of the communities in the last category are anxious to know what others are doing about retirement planning, and they indicate a need to begin making plans as soon as possible. Retirement Age and Status The majority of congregations state that they have no "fixed" age for retirement. They agree that the person himself, his state of health, his vitality, mental and physi-cal stamina--all these factors mnst be considered on an individual basis. Although 65 years is mentioned as a possible age/'or part-time retirement, 70 is the time when most religious begin to think seriously abont retiring. Studies show that the life-span of religious exceeds that of the ordinary layman by five to nine years. If there is difference of opinion about a specific age, there is deft-nitely consensns on retirement status. All agree with the statement from the "Older Americans Act," Article 10: 4- 4- Sister Charlotte is Director of Re-search and Funding for the Sisters of Notre Dame de Na-mur; Ilchester, Maryland 21083. VOLUME ~0, 1971 801 + ÷ ÷ St. Charlotte REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 802 "Older Americans or Senior Citizens should be permitted the free exercise of individual initiative in planning and managing one's own life for independence and freedom." Such thinking, of course, originates in the basic Christian