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Issue 52.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1993. ; 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 mailing offices. SUBSCRIPTION RATES Single copy $5 includes surface mailing costs. One-year subscription $15 plus mailing costs. Two-year subscription $28 plus ~nailing costs. See inside back cover for more subscription information and mailing costs. ©1993 Review for Religious review for religious Editor Associate Editors Canonical Counsel Editor Ass#tant Editors Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Michael G. Harter SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Joann Wolski Conn PhD Mary Margaret Johanning SSND Iris Ann Ledden SSND Edmundo Rodriguez SJ Sefin Sammon FMS Suzanne Zuercher OSB Christian Heritages and Contemporary Living NOVEMBER-DECEMBER 1993 ¯ VOLUME 52 ¯ NUMBER 6 contents 806 feature Religious Life and Conversion Language Dennis J. Billy CSSR provides a language of conversion so that religious might more readily integrate their individual lives with their corporate existences. 817 828 835 842 spirituality Are We Relating to God in a New Way? Gerald M. Fagin SJ proposes five polarities which are always present in our spiritual lives. Desire, Asking, and Answers A. Paul Dominic SJ emphasizes the importance of praying from our desires by exampleg from the Bible. Companionship Spirituality in Ruth Judette A. Gallares RC explores covenantal faith through the symbol of companionship portrayed between Ruth and Naomi. The Spirituality of Surrender John P. Mossi SJ proposes three models of a spiritual surrender-ing as a means of coming home to God. 849 865 ecumenism The Ecumenical Vocation of Religious Jeffrey Gros FSC highlights the importance of ecumenical for-mation and collaboration for women and men religious. The Religious Call of Ecumenism Jude D. Weisenbeck SDS suggests ways in which the needs of the ecumenical movement can well be met by the resources of religious communities. 802 Reviezv for Religious 870 875 ministry Frustrations--Jesus' Ministry and Ours James Martin SJ seeks a fresh perspective on dealing with frustra-tions arising from ministry to the poor. Jesuit Spirituality and Catholic Higher Education Claude N. Pavur SJ stresses the importance of an Ignatian spiritu-ality, invigorating the efforts of educators in the Jesuit tradition. poverty 886 Option for the Poor: God's Pedagogy Marcello Azevedo SJ analyzes the meaning and life-applications of the phrase "option for the poor" in terms of our faith. 893 Who Evangelizes Whom? The Poor Evangelizers John F. Talbot SJ explores the evangelizing potential of the poor. 898 a life of promise Two Cheers for Celibacy William McDonough clarifies the meaning of prie, stly celibacy by combining Robert Bellah's use of institution and Thomas Aquinas's moral vision. 911 Charismatic Renewal and Consecrated Life 920 Susan Rakoczy IHM reflects from a r~ligious-life experience of twenty-five years on the blessings of the charismatic renewal in regard to consecrated life. Death as a Community Event Annette Frey SC shares the stqry of a friend's illness and death as an integrating factor in community life. departments 804 Prisms 927 Canonical Counsel: Lumen Gentium's Chapter 6: Religious 933 Book Reviews 951 Indexes to Volume 52 November-December 1993 803 prisms ~oho are the people by whom you have been most influenced? Many of us must at one time or another have tried to answer this question for ourselves or at the inquiry of others: Precisely which people have strongly influenced my life? Some may quickly name their fathers and mothers; others go on to name favorite teachers or special friends. Still others may name people in world affairs or in the worlds of sports, the arts, or medicine. Probably not very many of us spontaneously turn to the men and women whom the church has declared holy and named as outstanding members of the communion of saints. Yet the reason why the church calls our attention to these people is to allow us to see in other followers of Christ what we hope to become. Just as the church of the Eastern rites emphasizes icons that give us a glimpse of the world of the holy, so the Latin-rite church proposes the study of the lives of ~aints so that we may be inspired by them and formed and then moved along a path of holiness as Jesus' apostles. Perhaps at one time many of us did not appreciate how the more medieval theology of mediators needed updating like so many timebound ways of expressing our faith and its practices--the process mandated by Vatican II. Now it seems that we stand more ready for and in need of the kind of influence which our fellow Christians, can-onized and otherwise esteemed, can exercise in ore: lives. No longer do we, almost superstitiously, look to Mary or other chosen saints for special favors. Instead we take our direction from the Vatican II understanding and descrip-tion of Mary's place in the communion of saints under the 804 Review for Religious specially privileged titles of mother and first disciple. And so we look to our favorite men and women saints particularly in their relationship to us as brothers and sisters and as our fellow disci-ples. If Christians in general are exhibiting a greater need for this kind of influence in their devotional lives, even more might men and women religious look to the holy ones special to their con-gregations for living the kind of discipleship charismatically appro-priate to their following of Christ. ~;Vhether it be the contemporary retelling of saints' lives or recapturing their spirit in new artistic portrayals or recovering prayers of theirs that are appropriate to our times--there still are ways for holy men and women to touch us in our daily living. We may more readily find light coming to us in dark moments of our experience from the uncovered lamp of these human lives than from any theoretical studies or documents. We may also find ourselves more energized for entering into the evangelizing mission of Jesus through the radiance of their inspiration and example. Probably even more surprising than our slowness in naming saints as major influences in our lives is the not infrequent omis-sion of even the name Jesus. As we enter into the Advent and Christmas seasons, maybe more fully than Jesus being "the reason for the season," we might say that the reason for the season is for us to remind ourselves that Jesus is the unique influence upon our lives all year long. Jesus is the one who has influenced how we live, how we pray, how we interact, how we die. Jesus is the one who calls us to a way of following; Jesus is the Teacher, and we all remain the lifelong learners, the ones in continuing formation. Perhaps we need to ask ourselves another question. Is it true that for us not to name Jesus as the great influence of our lives is more than just a memory slip? Does our answer uncover for us that our everyday, busy lives are being spent on behalf of lesser gods than the God Incarnate? The question is worth more than a Christmastime reflection. That the peace and grace of God, Emmanuel, be richly yours is the wish of all the staff of Review for Religious. David L. Fleming SJ November-December 1993 805 DENNIS J. BILLY Religious Life and Conversion Language The crisis faced by many of today's religious goes beyond the breakdown of their founding myths and the resulting lack of purpose in their corporate existences. While many (I daresay most) are at least peripherally aware of having lost in recent years something of great importance for their lives as professed religious, they usually have no idea whatsoever of how to retrieve it or what to put in its place. Nor are they very articulate about just what it is they have lost and why precisely they want it back. Confronted by their own aging, a steady flow of ygunger members from their ranks, and fewer and fewer vocational prospects, many have become disillusioned and desire some sort of immediate respite from their mount-ing misfortunes. They pursue it in any number of ways. Some display a nostalgic desire for the not too distant past--"the good old days," as.they are called, which were probably never quite so good as they now seem. Others resign themselves passively to their "inevitable corporate extinction," an increasingly attractive choice for many. Still others sink deeper and deeper into the quagmire of confusion and doubt about the relevance of religious life in the postmodern world--which does nothing but com-pound an already complex and. difficult situation. Regardless of the motivations behind them or their point Dennis J. Billy CSSR is author of the recently published Evangelical Kernels: A Theological Spirituality of Religious Life (Mba House, 1993). His address is Accademia Alfonsiana; Via Merulana, 31; C.P. 2458; 00100 Rome; Italy. 806 Review for Religious of origin, none of these responses are adequate to the crisis at hand. In order to move forward, today's religious must choose a path other than that of denial and escape. At this critical point of their history, what they need is a language of conversion that will enable them to give an honest account of themselves, will help them to integrate their private lives with their corporate existences, and will show them how they, as a group, can con-front the cynical doubts that writhe beneath the surface of their professional respectability. Conversion Language A language of conversion must speak to both the mind and the heart. It must make sense to.people in a way that will satisfy their intellectual longings. It must also motivate them to exanaine their situation in life with renewed strength and vigor--as if with dif-ferent eyes. More importantly, it must reshape their interpretation of experience so that, through the action of divine grace, they see their denial for what it is and then find it possible to realign their personal powers of commitment with those of the religious insti-tute to which they belong. Only from such a realignment will dusty and creaky institu-tional structures and the people who stubbornly inhabit and main-tain them have any hope of being refurbished for a brighter future. Failure to achieve this renewal of human heart and human social structure will result only in more of the same problem: individ-ualism amid corrosive social ills; continuing loss of confidence in and commitment to one's religious community; the persistence of the "double life" syndrome that has plagued so many first-world congregations since the Second Vatican Council. By most assessments, the very future of religiou~ life is at stake. The thesis is clear: the circular relationship between individ-ual and corporate change must come to the fore in any further dis-cussions about authentic conversion, particularly with respect to those who have dedicated their lives to following the evangelical counsels. "The whole cannot be understood without its parts; nor the parts without the whole." This fundamental problem of inter-pretation-- the so-called hermeneutical problem--lies at the root of the present crisis in religious life. To deal with it effectively, a language of conversion must address both the individual and the November-December 1993 807 Billy ¯ Religious Life and Conversion Language group, as well as their ongoing mutual relationship. It can do so, however, only if it encompasses (1) a sound Christian anthropol-ogy that stresses the dignity of human persons on every level of their existence, (2) a persuasive philosophical link between the personal and the corporate wholes, and (3) a recognition of its own inherent limitations with a corresponding openness to the re-creative presence of God. Without these important ingredi-ents of change, no language of conversion, regardless of how elo-quent or comprehensive it may appear, will be adequate to the enormous task at hand. A Sound Christian Anthropology The connotations of the phrase "a sound Christian anthro-pology" need some explaining. An "anthropology" may be described as a specific and coordinated assessment of human exis-tence. It is "Christian" insofar as it receives its inspiration from the insights of Christian traditions. To the extent that there are numerous interpretations of the meaning of Christianity, there are also varying Christian anthropologies. In this essay, a "sound" Christian anthropology is understood as one which integrates four fundamental dimensions of human existence: the physical, the rational (or mental), the spiritual, and the social. All of these are found ih the teaching of St. Paul and are made explicit in the juxtaposition of his doctrine of the Body of Christ (1 Cor 12:12- 31) and the tripartite understanding of the person found in such verses as this: "May the God of peace make you perfect in holi-ness. May he preserve you whole and entire, spirit (pneuma), soul (psyche), and body (soma), irreproachable at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ" (1 Th 5:23). Together these verses express the Pauline understanding of the complexity of human existence and qualify as a solid basis for further theological reflection. Of what do these basic dimensions consist? People's spirit (pneuma) is the deepest part of their being. It yearns for God with unutterabl.e groanings (Rm 8:23) and has the potential to be lifted up into intimate communion with the very Spirit of God. Ever elusive and difficult to describe, it is that aspect of human exis-tence which affirms each human person as capax Dei, that is, capa-ble of God. People's soul (psyche), by contrast, is their animating principle of life. It encompasses, not only the rational, but also the emotive, nutritive, and reproductive sides of human existence. 808 Review for Religious Rational activity, the soul's highest and noblest function, enables people to wonder about the meaning of life and to think criti-cally about its problems. People's bodies (somata) are the material extension of their existence. Unlike the Pauline term for "flesh" (sarx), which has close associations with a life of sin leading to death, soma can be used for good or for ill and is hence a morally neutral concept. Finally, people's social dimension is a constituent part of their anthropological makeup. A human per-son. arises out of and exists in a social context and cannot be understood apart from it. For Christians, the primary social arena in which they live out their lives is that of the Body of Christ as it exists in its various expressions such as the family, the parish, the diocese, and the church universal. The interrelated nature of these various dimensions of human existence cannot be stressed highly enough. Spirit does not exist apart from a person's body, soul, and social relationships-- nor vice versa. Not one of them can be separated and treated in isolation from the others, as if a person were an arti-ficial composite of four disparate parts. A continuous and unbroken anthropo- For Christians, the primary social arena in which they live out their lives is that of the Body of Christ as it exists in its various expressions such as the family, the parish, the diocese, and the church universal. logical relationship exists among all of them. So strong are these bonds that not even death can sever them completely and pre-vent their ongoing functioning. To do so would mean the ulti-mate dissolution of the human person and the corresponding passage from being to nonbeing which the Christian faith so strongly rejects as a possibility of human destiny. That is not to say that a certain priority of relationships does not exist among these various anthropological factors: spirit relates to soul as soul to body. Balanced and healthy relationships among these affect the way in which a person interacts with others. A sound social environment, in turn, produces profound healing effects on a per-son's bodily, spiritual, and mental well-being. This circular rela-tionship is important for understanding the present crisis of religious life, which now can be understood as involving not only November-Deconber 1993 809 Billy ¯ Reli~ous Life and Conversion Language the vast array of dysfunctional social structures, but also a deeper relational imbalance operative on the most basic levels of human existence. Linking the Personal and the Corporate Social structures are both products of the mind and a means through which human intelligence and human spirit are shaped. ' When functioning according to justice, they give all people their due and educate them in virtue. At other times they work to the benefit of a privileged elite at the expense of an oppressed under-class. The interests of justice are not adequately served when existing social structures help to perpetuate a mentality of control that legitimizes the unjust treatment of other human beings. Such structures are sinful and need to be changed. When they are not (as can be the case in religious life), it may very well be simply because those involved feel overwhelmed by the immensity of the task before them. Such feelings can easily lead people to a sense of helplessness or even indifference about their ability to influence their surrounding social structures. An implicit dualism then arises in the private and social spheres of religious life: individuals grad-ually lose ownership of their ruling structures; the latter go on unchallenged more out of a paralyzing lack of interest than any-one's stubborn resistance to change. One way to overcome this implicit dualism is to introduce the related concepts of microcosm and macrocosm into the cur-rent vocabulary of religious life. Rooted in the primitive Greek idea of the human person as a small-scale model of the cosmos, this distinction was eventually adapted by Plato as a way of describing the relationship of individuals to the society (see Republic, 441c). According to this adjusted version, the underlying structure of human society is nearly the same as that of the human soul. The rational element corresponds to the republic's govern-ing class; the irascible (or spirited), to its martial orders; the con-cupiscible, to its productive masses. As "the human soul writ large," society offers individuals not only a particular place in the " social hierarchy, but also the opportunity of seeing themselves projected onto the collective whole. Individuals find their reflec-tion in the whole; the whole, in the individual. Plato's application of the microcosm/macrocosm distinction is not relevant in all its details to religious life in its contemporary 810 Review for Religious ¯ Western setting. His assertion, however, of an underlying struc-tural continuity between individuals and the society to which they belong has much to its credit: (1) it preserves the circular rela-tionship between individual and social functions; (2) it allows for certain structural similarities between human beings and their primary social environment; and (3) it maintains the distinctive-ness of individuals in the face of the larger community. When combined with the Christian anthropology outlined in the pre-vious section (as opposed to the Platonic one with which it is nor-mally associated), this seminal idea can help individuals in today's religious communities to regain their sense of identity with the larger whole. The analogy would go something like this: both the human person and the religious community possess spiritual, mental, physical, and social dimensions. The relationships among the various dimensions within the human person are proportion-ate to those in the religious community (for example, human spirit / human soul = community spirit / community soul, and so forth). Cross references also remain proportionate, but only with regard to corresponding terms (that is, human spirit /communal spirit = human soul / community soul, and so forth). In all cases the rule of proper proportionality applies (a/b = a'/b'). The strength of this approach is that it maintains a fundamental continuity between the underlying anthropological structure of individuals and that of their religious community. And it is able to do so even when taking into account the limitations of the language it uses to describe the quiet, abiding presence of God in the life of the . community. The Silent Presence of Grace One of the underlying dangers in the current discussion about the future of religious life is the tendency to substitute lengthy theories for the simplicity of God's intervening grace. Uneasiness about their present situation in life has led many religious into a quest for the perfect plan that will explain in fine detail (1) why they find themselves in their present situation, (2) how they can get themselves out of it, and (3) where they should be going. Search as they may, they will inevitably end up frustrated. No magic elixir of man-made theories can satisfy expectations of such exalted heights. To achieve its ends, a theory of refounding or revitalization must place God, not itself, atthe center of attention. November-Deconber 1993 811 Billy ¯ Religious Life and Conversion Language To do so, it must first recognize that conversion on any level--the personal, the communal, the societal--comes directly from God's own initiative. And since God is not limited to the narrow confines of human theorizing, the theory in question can propose nothing but one of many possibilities of how God's transforming action may occur. By placing itself on the periphery (not at the center) of divine action, such a theory acknowledges its inherent limita-tions and places itself more readily at the disposal of God's re-creative activity. "The wind blows where it wills" (Jn 3:8). The movement of God's grace is capable of transforming both individuals and the social structures they inhabit. What God does or how is not always discernible to the human eye. What is important in any of life's sit-uations-- and, in this case, in the present crisis facing many reli-gious communities--is that people (both as individuals and as a group) expand their awareness of God working quietly in the cir-cumstances of their daily lives. Where is God in the present cri-sis facing religious life? What is God saying in the graying of once thriving religious communities, in their steady loss of younger members, in their failure to attract vocations, and in their overall decline in numbers? Why does God permit the cur-rent lack of identity and firmness of purpose which characterizes so many of today's religious communities? Where is God lead-ing them--if at all? And to serve what purpose? When sincerely reflected upon, such questions lead people either to affirm or deny God's active involvement in their own life and in the life of " their religious community. The answer, however, may not end up in the shape of a simple yes or no. In a matter of faith, a believer's response must involve more than a facile determination of whether God is with this particular community or has abandoned it. Such a reply may evade the issue altogether. An authentic outpouring of God's grace will foster a deep sense of listening in the life of a religious community. Most peo-ple, religious included, are more ready to give their own opinion than to hear that of another. They are usually so heavily interested in what they themselves have to say that they talk past those around them or, at best, tolerate what is said until the next oppor-tunity arises for them to speak. What passes for conversation is often nothing more than a continuous chain of vaguely connected monologues. Such is not the case with God, the preeminent lis-tener, nor should it be the case of those stirr.ed by the free gift of 812 Review for Religious grace. Those who listen carefully--to their own hearts, to those around them, to the needs of the community, and to those outside the community--are able to discern more clearly the voice of God in their own lives. When they nurture this quiet witness of faith, religious create a space in their community where others know that their presence will be gratefully recognized and their stories listened to with interest. To empty oneself so that others may be heard is an important quality in authentic Christian living. The language of conversion cannot be spoken, let alone heard, apart from the re-creative silence of God's transforming grace. R.eligious and the Language of Conversion The rudiments of an authentic language of conversion are now in place: a sound Christian anthropology, a way of bringing together individuals and corporate wholes, and a recognition of God's creative initiative in the process of conversion. The inte-gration of these elements and their use as an active, functioning language will enable religious to find greater insight into their present difficulties and will lead them to a deeper awareness of the proper course of action to be taken. To further advance this claim, a number of observations are in order: 1. A language of conversion such as the one suggested above will challenge religious to remove the "problem solving" glasses that regularly color their current outlook. Rather than poring over "what must we change in order to secure our institutional viability," they will focus on questions about the authenticity of their reli-gious lives. A religious community, in other words, turns its life more completely over to God, not out of any ulterior motives (for example, to get more vocations, to stem the exodus of disenchanted members), but simply because that is what God asks of them. 2. Religious need to examine, in their common spiritual out-look, the relationship they maintain between "being" and "action." Informed by an anthropology that draws strong bonds between the bodily, mental, spiritual, and social dimensions of human exis-tence, they will be more apt to be sensitive to how their actions-- both private and corporate--are expressions of who they are and sensitive as well to how their actions affect their being as human persons. 3. Religious must articulate in their daily lives a deeper appre-ciation of the basic human elements of community living. November-December 1993 813 Billy ¯ Religious Life and Conversion Language Membership in a religious congregation involves more than mere physical presence. It also entails a shared commitment to common goals and values, a general sense of how these ends are to be achieved, the fostering of community spirit, and a network of sound spiritual and social ties. Since these elements are them-selves all intimately related, care must be taken that members manage to relate well on all of them. Structures must be set in place to facilitate this process. 4. Particular emphasis should be given to the community's spiritual well-being. Just as the spirit is the deepest part of the human person--that part which yearns for God and which affirms oneself as capax Dei--so too is it the truest, most authentic part of the religious community. When the spirit of a religious commu-nity suffers, the other dimensions cannot help being affected. Efforts must be made to heal the wounded spirit of religious com-munity life. Among other things, this will mean working through such difficult issues as human intimacy, vocational crises, mourn-ing the loss of members, and dealing constructively with members who display dysfunctional and addictive behaviors. Only through healing of the spirit of religious community life is there any hope of recovery. 5. One way of healing a community's wounded spirit is for its members to reserve time and community space for genuine listening. By being attentive to the words of others--the stories they tell, the experiences they wish to share--people enter into the thick of life and allow for the possibility of God's presence to break into ordinary daily events. When a religious community fosters this attitude of respect for the need of people to share themselves openly without feeling threatened, it begins to go beneath the superficial ways of relating by which its members all too often relate hardly at all. One of the great sins of religious life is that people can live together for years and barely know each other. 6. It is also sad that a person can live the religious life for yea~rs without ever developing a close relationship with God. Addressing this problem, the language of conversion places God at the center of attention. The whole purpose of life, and of reli-gious life especially, is for a person to enter into a deep and last-ing friendship with God. This purpose must not be lost sight of in discussions about the future of religious life. Religious vow to live the evangelical counsels in order to walk more closely along 814 Revie~ for Religious the way of the Lord Jesus. They do so, if for no other reason, in order to enter more closely into union with him and the One who sent him. 7. People cannot know God, however, if their spirit (or the spirit of the community, for that matter) does not commune with the Spirit of God in the quiet groves of contemplation. Many religious, unfortunately, have forgotten all about what it means to seek the Lord in prayer. Having lost the incentive to pray, they merely go through the motions of living out their evangelical commitments; their lives, as a result, can easily become devoid of all meaning. Religious need to see through the self-deceptions that have gradually led them to compromise their vows. To retrieve the meaning of their religious life, they must return to a balanced regimen of prayer whereby they can gather in God's name and continually invoke the divine presence. 8. Finally, no one undergoes conversion outside a specific community environment. Religious must develop a keen sense of boundary definition that will enable them to distribute their time appropriately between their own religious community and the people they serve in the apostolate. While benefiting from the authentic sharing that goes on within their communities (an essential priority of a well functioning community), they must take care not to become inordinately introspective and so lose all desire to reach beyond their immediate circle. The apostolic orientation of all religious communities (even those with a strictly contem-plative lifestyle) must always remain a primary concern. With this orientation religious supported and energized by their communi-ties will be able--both individually and together--to do great work for both the church and for society at large. Just as the spirit is the deepest part of the human person-- that part which yearns for God and which affirms oneself as capax Dei--so too is it the truest, most authentic part of the religious community. Conclusion The present crisis in religious life is largely a lack of balance between the individual and the community. In many respects the November-December 1993 815 Billy ¯ ReIigious Life and Conversion Language crisis is a scaled-down version of the age-old philosophical prob-lem of the one and the many, an issue which has always lurked behind the scenes of Western philosophical thought and which remains, even today, largely unresolved. In recent years the pen-dulum has swung from one extreme to the other, with the indi-vidual being either submerged in the collective (as was often the case before Vatican II) or much removed from it (as has often occurred since the council). While nearly everyone agrees that a healthy balance needs to be struck, there is little consensus con-cerning just what must be done to achieve it. These pages have used certain categories from the Western religious and philosophical traditions in an effort to nudge reli-gious communities gently toward a prudent--even though pre-carious- balance. The categories include (1) a Pauline anthropology that emphasizes the four basic dimensions of human existence (spiritual, mental, bodily, and social), (2) a philosophi-cal link between individual and corporate wholes (the micro-cosm/ macrocosm distinction of the ancient Greek philosophers), and (3) a deepened awareness of the inherent limitations of lan-guage (and by extension all theories) with a corresponding focus on the creative initiative of divine grace. While none of these cat-egories are entirely disregarded in current discourse about reli-gious life, rarely have they been used in conjunction with one another and certainly not in what has been termed "a language of conversion." By assimilating these categories of conversion, religious can begin to change some of their dysfunctional ways of relating and nurse some of the open wounds that their communities now endure. First of all, they must get beyond claiming that the call to conversion extends only to individuals and not to the social struc-tures they inhabit. An awareness of the circular relationship between the human heart and the human social structure is ~un-damental to any serious discussion of religious life's future. Without it the dissatisfaction of many of today's religious with their institutional structures will continue to grow. 816 Review for Religious GERALD M. FAGIN Are We Relating to God in a New Way? When I entered a Jesuit novitiate thirty-five years ago, I was introduced to a way of relating to God deeply rooted in the tradition of the church and in the Society of Jesus. It was a way of experiencing God and of responding to God that was shaped by a clearly defined theological understanding of God, the church, and the human per-son. What characterized that spirituality was what char-acterized the spirituality of most Catholics, both lay and religious, in the years before Vatican Council II. What has emerged in the last twenty-five years is a new way of relating to God, a spirituality rooted in a plurality of the-ological understandings of God, the church, and the human person. We might describe it as a shift in model or simply as a shift from one pole of the necessary tension in our spiritual lives to the other. What is important is that we describe and understand what has happened, for too often a lack of understanding has led to confusion, guilt, and quarreling among Christians. I offer five tensions or polarities that are always pres-ent in our spiritual lives. What has happened in lived Christian spirituality can be described in terms of these tensions. spirituality From Objective to Subject-Centered The spirituality of thirty-five years ago was an objec- Gerald M. Fagin sJ, professor of theology, can be addressed at Loyola University; 6363 St. Charles Avenue; New Orleans, Louisiana 70118. Noven~ber-Decen~ber 1993 817 Fagin ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? tive spirituality measured in terms of laws kept, mortifications and virtues and devotions practiced, prayers said, and Masses attended. A typical day in a novitiate was structured around an early morning Latin Mass, an hour of meditation, the rosary, the stations of the cross, examination of conscience, spiritual read-ing, and an instruction on religious life. The spiritual life of the Catholic laity was measured and identified by similar norms and practices. This way of life was supported by a clearly defined Catholic culture that gave Catholics a sense of identity rooted in unambiguous doctrinal and moral teaching and distinct rituals and practices. It was the world of the Baltimore catechism, Friday abstinence, fasting in Lent, First Friday and First Saturday devo-tions, benediction, indulgences, and St. Jude devotions. It demanded discipline and obedience and self-sacrifice, but it offered clear expectations and a structured and measurable way of living out a committed Christian life that led to sanctity. Such objectivity is an essential element in any relationship .to God. Rituals, practices, and devotions are at the heart of a gen-uine experience of God and a faithful response to God. We need clear guidelines and traditional structures if we are to be account-able and if we are to guard against the kind of subjectivity that is open to deception and divisiveness. What has emerged, then, is not a total rejection of this way of relating to God, but a new emphasis on the human person as a free and developing subject in the spiritual life. This subject-centered spirituality is a spirituality measured in terms of people's inner growth and actualization, the quality of their prayer and personal affective development. The spiritual life is described in terms'of a growth in trust and love and openness and freedom and sensi-tivity to the Spirit. Religious experience rather than religious practice is central to this approach. The focus is growth in peo-ple's personal relationship with God and on God's call addressed ¯ uniquely to individuals in their specific life circumstances. In con-sidering fidelity to God, the language of conformity and obedience to rules gives way to discernment and dialogue. Prayer becomes less a meditation on the truths of Christianity and more a lan-guage of the heart, an affective prayer that centers on God's ini-tiative more than our initiative. The role of the spiritual director puts less emphasis on teaching and guidance and more emphasis on facilitating the directee's relationship with God. The didactic gifts of the director become less important than a listening and 818 Review for Religious discerning heart that can clarify the movement of God in the directee's heart. Thirty-five years ago my spiritual director asked me about my fidelity to my spiritual exercises, the subject matter of my meditation, and the resolutions from my latest retreat. Today my spiritual director asks me about the movement of God in my heart and the consolation and desolation that are the signposts of my discernment. The presupposition is that God is at work in the individual soul and that this movement of God can be observed and discerned. The shift to a subject-centered spirituality is clearly seen in the rediscovery of the directed retreat. Conference-style or preached retreats focus on a common teaching or subject matter for reflec-tion. Everyone responds to and prays over the same material, often more doctrinal than scriptural, and not selected as a specific response to the needs and grace directions of the individuals. The subject matter of the directed retreat is each individual's experience of God, the movement of the Spirit within that person. Scripture is chosen to focus and highlight the graces of the retreatant. There is not one set program for everyone. It is pre-sumed that each person will experience and respond to God's grace in an individual way. Underlying this shift to the subject is a different under-standing of revelation. Revelation is imaged not primarily as propositions to be affirmed but as God's self-communication. Revelation is not first a series of statements about God and the human condition, but a series of experiences of God that reveal who God is and how God deals with us. Jesus is the fullness of God's revelation so that our faith life is a response to someone rather than an assent to propositions. God's self-revelation in Christ calls us to a new relationship with.God. Experience, both individual and communal, precedes articulation; and our rela- This subject-centered spirituality is a spirituality measured in terms of people's inner growth and actualization, the quality of their prayer and personal affective development. November-December 1993 819 Fagqn ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? tionship with God begins in an experience of God that then finds words in doctrines and expression in rituals. From Perfection to Process The novice of thirty-five years ago set out on the road to per-fection. Every imperfection was to be weeded out, every virtue practiced. The ideals were clear, even if unattainable. The goal was set: "Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect." The perfec-tion model envisioned our spiritual lives as a striving for an ideal, a state of perfection that was never attained. Too often our spir-itual lives were evaluated in terms of our failures to reach the ideal or the degree to which we had failed to attain perfection. As in the objective model, the focus was on an observance of laws and duties. Novices were told, "Keep the rule and the rule will keep you." This approach tended to be legalistic and Pelagian and to generate undue fear in our relationship with God. We were always aware that we were not measuring up to the ideal. No matter how fervent our spiritual lives and how detailed our obser-vance, we remained unworthy servants who had yet to reach per-fection. We placed much more emphasis on what we had failed to do or achieve than on the level of our desire and hope and love and our moments of fidelity. This perfection model focused on the goal, not the process to the goal. God's love and affirmation were often thought of as the reward for our completing the process, for our faithful observance. A corollary of the shift from objective to subject-centered is the shift from this perfection model to a process model in our relationship with God. The process model envisions our spiri-tual lives as a journey that can be measured not only in terms of how far we have to go, but especially in terms of how far we have come. Besides sorrow for our failure to attain perfection, there is gratitude for all that God has accomplished in us, the work of God's grace in our lives. Our spiritual lives are viewed as a rela-tionship with God that grows, not as a project that needs to be accomplished. Such a model is sensitive to the adult stages of growth in the human process. Conversion is emphasized as an ongoing process of discovering and purification and commitment. Creative fidelity in the midst of new challenges and opportunities replaces perseverance in a static commitment. The love of God is experienced in the midst of the process as an abiding source of 820 Review for Religious support and inspiration. God loves us where we are and invites us to a fuller life. We find God, then, where we are and not where we would like to be. We pray out of our present experience, not out of as-yet-unrealized goals. At the root of this shift from perfection to process is a renewed understanding of grace. Grace is defined not primarily in ontological terms and categories, certainly not as a quantity to be gained and lost by observance or lack of observance. Rather it is understood as a growth in a relationship of love with some-one, a growth into a richer and fuller life. Our relationship with God is an invitation to friendship and intimacy with God, a gift of new life. God's grace is the giving of Godself that transforms us and empowers us to live God's life. From Private to Communal The novitiate of thirty-five years ago was highly structured and programmed. With rare exceptions, everyone followed the same order of the day, listened to the same conferences and instructions, and even read many of the same books. The reality of large numbers of novices made personal attention less available, even though the novice master was concerned for the well-being of each novice. At the same time, the spirituality proposed was very individualistic. People's relation with God was private and expressed in personal devotions and practices. They found God in the solitude of their'own heart and gave little emphasis to a com-munity of shared faith and communal discernment. There was a strong sense of corporate identity, but one's own spiritual life was private and to be shared only with a spiritual director or supe-rior. The support came from the awareness that everyone was praying at the same time in private, not from any ~hared sense of what was happening in the prayer of individuals. This personal piety that privatized one's relationship with God followed upon an understanding of the church as an insti-tution from which grace flows from the top through a hierarchi-cal structure to the individual. God spoke through superiors and religious leaders, not through the members of the community. Sacraments too were privatized. They were channels of individ-ual grace and a personal relationship with God. Confession was an experience of forgiveness of my sins with little sense of reconcil-iation with the community. Eucharist focused on the offering of November-December 1993 821 Fagin ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? Christ's sacrifice and my reception of Communion, followed by my private thanksgiving with .Jesus. Often Eucharist was a pri-vate Mass with a single server symbolizing a broader community that was not evidently there. All of this, of course, reflected a the-ology of church and sacrament that shaped and reinforced a sense of a private relationship with God. A communal model, on the other hand, emphasizes that we encounter God in community. It respects the personal and unique aspect of one's relationship with God and the areas of religious experience that are shared only with a spiritual guide or a close friend, but it images our relationship with God in the context of a community of faith. The Spirit speaks through all, and we grow in our faith life with, in, and through others. We are one body. We are branches on the same vine. Shared prayer and communal dis-cernment are important means of developing our relationship with God. This derives from an understanding of church as pri-marily a community of believers called together in faith. The church is an institution with visible structures and offices, but it is first the gathering of disciples that find and celebrate God's presence in their midst. Liturgy is experienced as ecclesial, as the coming together of God's people to hear the word in common and share the meal of the Reign of God. Jesus is present, not only in the consecrated bread and wine, but also in the assembly. We find Jesus in the community. Sacraments, then, are experienced as communal moments Of celebration that bind us together and deepen our corporate identity as the people of God. Christians share a common story of salvation and live out that story as mem-bers of the one body of Christ. That sense of a common story deepens our awareness of God's self-revelation to us in commu-nity and our need to listen and respond as God's people bound together by a covenant relationship. From Dualism to Wholeness From its earliest days Christianity has struggled with a dual-ism that put a wedge between the spiritual and the physical, the body and the soul. Gnosticism, Manicheanism, and Jansenism are only historical surfacings of a constant and strong undercurrent of thought that considers the physical to be evil and the source of temptation. Not surprisingly, the novitiate of thirty-five years ago put little emphasis on emotional growth and psychosexual devel- 822 Review for Religious opment. The prominent role of physical penances and the pro-hibition about novices touching one another dramatized not only a needed asceticism, but also a distrust of anything relating to the human body. Holiness was often identified with a flight from the body and from the emotions. The body was seen as a hin-drance to the spirit, and the emotions were dismissed or sup-pressed as irrelevant and debilitating. Reason and volition were the only reliable means of directing our spiritual lives. Discernment was reduced to a rational process or replaced by. logical analysis. Faith was seen primarily as an act of the intellect and holiness as an act of the will. In the end, the spiritual life was often per-ceived as set apart in a higher realm divorced from the growth of the whole person. Contemporary spirituality is more clearly holistic. It respects and encourages the growth of the whole person. The process of human-ization is an integral part of spiritual develop-ment. Spiritual maturity presupposes a certain psychological health as a foundation. The role of affectivity and an appreciation of our phys-icality become important elements of our growth to spiritual wholeness. Discernment is appreciated as noticing and evaluating the affective as well as the rational movements of God within the soul, sifting through experiences of consolation and desolation. Faith is the response of the whole person to God's self-revela-tion. A renewed value is given to human desire as a place where God touches and inspires the soul and calls a person to fuller life. Contemporary spiritua~ty knows well that something of this holis-tic approach can be found in a fresh reading of many of the mys-tics and spiritual classics, but modern awareness and appreciation of the complexities of the human person have insisted even more that holiness is a developmental process of integrating all aspects of the human person. The shift from dualism to wholeness is rooted in an under-standing of the human person as a unity rather than a duality of spirit and body. Psychology and religion can work together to transform and sanctify every dimension of the person. The Enneagram, Jungian personality types, dream analysis, Intensive Journaling--all these and more can enrich our appreciation and Christians share a common story of salvation and live out that story as members of the one body of Christ. November-December 1993 823 Fagin ¯ Are We Relating to God in a New Way? understanding of the human psyche and be positive helps to our spiritual growth. There is, of course, an element of truth in the dualistic approach. Physical and even psychological wholeness are not indispensable to Christian holiness. God can and does work through our brokenness. The ideal of self-actualization and human growth must always be relativized by the gospel call to self-emp-tying surrender. On the other hand, the dualistic approach, when taken to an extreme, can produce an impoverished human per-son insensitive to the riches of imagination and affect in relating to God and other people. In such a case, little or no value is given to the affective movements of the heart in the search for God. The ordering of affectivity is reduced to the suppression of affec-tivity, and an ascetic ideal is proposed that allows little room for human emotion. From Other-Worldly to This-Worldly "Just a little while and then eternity." These words attributed to St. John Berchmans set the tone for my novitiate experience thirty-five years ago. At the heart of the relationship with God was a call to renunciation of the material world. The world was a place of temptation and trial. We were pilgrims on a journey to salvation in the next life. Sanctity demanded detachment from the world. Matter was evil, the source of sin. Penance was a way to punish the flesh and control its appetites. The novitiate was in an isolated place far from the allurements of the world. There were no newspapers or magazines or movies or TV. The harshest judgment passed on any novice was that he was "worldly." At the root of this approach was a negative vision of the world as cor-rupted by sin. Flight from the world was the road to sanctity. Even apostolic religious orders tended to propose monastic ide-als that emphasized separation from the world. A special impor-tance was given to the words of Seneca (Letters, no. 7) quoted in the Imitation of Christ (I, 20): "As often as I have been among men, I have returned less a man." No one can deny the truth in this approach to the world. Growth in a relationship with God demands a radical detachment and renunciation. We live in a world of obscured values and dis-torted perceptions, a world infected with sin that stands in oppo-sition to the values of the reign of God. The world is groaning for 824 Review for Religious redemption, and Christianity must stand as a countercultural force in a broken and wounded world. Contemporary spirituality, however, takes a more positive view of the world, seeing it as the product of God's love and the locus of God's redemptive presence. The Vatican II document Gaudium et Spes (The Church in the Modern World) proposed a world-affirming vision that recognized the value and autonomy of human society and culture and that took responsibility for the world. A renewed theology of creation takes seriously Genesis's declaration of the goodness of creation and the dignity of humans as images of God. Such a creation-centered spirituality rejoices in the world as a gift.from the hands of a loving God. Our relationship with God is expressed in a concern for the earth and a sense of stew-ardship for the resources entrusted to us. The reign of God is already a reality "bud-ding forth," and our human efforts are an essential element in building the final reign of God. God, then, is found in human experience and human achievement, and this world becomes a sacred place for encountering God. A genuine apostolic spirituality recognizes that we work out our salvation by involvement in the human struggle for justice. The desert invades the marketplace and the monk speaks a prophetic word in the city. The reason for the shift to a this-worldly spiritua'lity is, then, a more positive view of the world and a renewed understanding of salvation. An important corollary of this new understanding and appre-ciation of the world is a reevaluation of the relation between reli-gious life and the lay vocation. In the other-worldly view of the Christian life, monastic spirituality was considered normative, and so the life of a single or a married person in the world was necessarily a less radical commitment to a relationship with God. Lay spirituality was at best a watered-down adaptation of the higher calling of religious life. Vatican II, by contrast, speaks of a universal call to holiness. All Christians are called to the per-fection of charity and commitment to Christ. Religious life and the A genuine apostolic spirituality recognizes that we work out our salvation by involvement in the human struggle for justice. November-December 1993 825 Fagin ¯ Are V~e Relating to God in a New tVay? lay vocation are two different ways of responding to the radical gospel call to discipleship. At best one can speak of religious life as a more explicit and unambiguous lifestyle that witnesses to the common vocation of all Christians. Conclusion The tensions just described are an enduring part of our rela-tionship with God. Our spirituality will always be a balance between objective and subjective, perfection and process, private and communal, dualism and wholeness, other-worldly and this-worldly. As Richard McBrien has pointed out frequently, Catholicism is not a matter of either/or but of both/and. There is no question of rejecting one way and replacing it completely with another, but rather of claiming a new richness that respects the older way and opens new ways of living our Christian lives. My novitiate experience of thirty-five ye~ars ago focused almost exclu-sively on the objective, perfection, private, dualistic, and other-worldly dimensions of our relationship with God. Contemporary spirituality has swung the pendulum dramatically to the other pole. The challenge is to move beyond a reactionary position and to integrate the truth of the previous way of relating to God with a new and rich experience of God and the human person. The swing of the pendulum, as we have seen, comes from a new under-standing of revelation, grace, and the church and of the human person, the world, and salvation. Developments in theology and new dimensions of religious experience continue to enrich one another and open new possibilities in our relationship with God. Each age in the life of the church struggles to define Christians' relationship with God. Christian spirituality is a lived experience shaped by life, culture, and theology, but above all by the graced invitation of God. I conclude by suggesting four char-acteristics of a Christian spirituality that is responsive to the invi-tation and challenge of the contemporary world. We need an incarnational spirituality that finds mystery and the sacred in the midst of a radical affirmation of the giftedness of the world, that finds God not only above us but also with us. We need a holistic spirituality that integrates more fully into our spiritual growth the nonrational dimensions of our person, fostering a healthy sense of sin and forgiveness and respecting the human psyche's limitations and possibilities for growth in God's life. We need a 826 Review for Religious prophet# spirituality that integrates the mystical and the political and sees a passion for justice and solidarity with the poor as inte-gral to contemplative union with God. We need an ecdesial spir-ituality that lives out our relationship with God in the community of disciples, harmonizes discernment and religious authority, and responds to the call to ministry that baptismal grace enables us to hear. In the end, Christian spirituality will always remain a response to the gospel call to conversion and discipleship. In every age it promises a growth in a personal relationship with God and demands a commitment in the context of a community of faith, but in the midst 6f these constant elements Christians will con-tinue to be attentive to the movements of the Spirit in their lives and to explore new ways of relating to God. Holofrosts The offerings to God this winter's morning Are holofrosts, not burnt but frozen;fruit Of the vine hangs shriveled as nuggets of ice, The works of human hands .are noughted out By whiteness of snow. Offering God of his own From the elements given us, we lift up As gifts at his altar: his earth, air, Water, hard-touched by December, challenging Us to be devout in our changing seasons Of spring-weather faith, frost-withered doubt. Nancy G. Westerfield November-December 1993 827 A. PAUL DOMINIC Desire, Asking, and Answers porayer, as St. Thomas Aquinas said, is the articulation of ur desire before God.~ That is the way we teach our chil-dren their first practical lesson in religion: we teach them to ask God for what they want. As people grow in spiritual life, they can never outgrow the spirit of their beginnings, if for no other reason than that the highest reaches cannot exist without the low-est attainments. There is reason, then, not to abandon altogether the early, petitionary stage of spiritual life, but to continue to experience its varying moods and movements. Here biblical personages at once spiritual and earthy can be illustrative and illuminative. The recorded experiences of Hannah, David, and Job are relevant. They are all apparently of marked spirituality, notably above the ordinary. Yet in their dealings with God they do not remain always ethereal. Possessed of human desires, too, as down-to-earth people, they approach God openly with the desires of their heart. That is to say, they are simple enough not to be shatmning but to move with the tide of their life. Spiritually oriented people will neglect this basic lesson only to their cost. Not much is known of Hannah, surely; but the little that is known of her reveals her womanly spiritual fiber. Her husband, Elkanah, less known than herself, is religious too, but in the usual way, performing the regular practices like yearly pilgrimage. Perhaps part of his routine spirituality is his seeming resignation A. Paul Dominic SJ, author of God of Justice (Bombay: St. Paul Publications), is well known to our readers. His address is Satyodayam; S. Lallaguda; Secunderabad 500 017; India. 828 Review for Religious to God's disposition regarding Hannah's barrenness. But Hannah herself would not be resigned to her situation. She burns with desire for a son as much as, or even more than, she is resentful and in distress because of the taunts of the other wife, who is not bar-ren. All this compounded desire of her heart she pours out to her God, completely oblivious of her surroundings, and she keeps on beseeching him for a son till--that is the important point here-- she is assured that she will get what she has painfully longed for. She has not supplicated in vain. No wonder she knows peace in her heart. David is great in every way, in particular in his spiritual gifts. He attains spiritual heights on certain occasions when God sur-prises him with choice favors. But he also knows low spirits and even falls. Then he prays, staying where he is. One such occa-sion is when he realizes that he has to pay for his adultery by the death of the child of adultery. Though he owns his sin, still he wants the son his sin produced. How he prays for the life of the child, struck by God with a grave illness! He pleads with God for his child, fasting and lying on the ground for days together. He prays with all his energies, hoping against hope till he realizes that the child has died. He has supplicated in vain and still, sur-prisingly enough, seems to find unusual peace in his heart. Job is an exceptional figure who manages a happy blend of his wealth in the world with his godly life. If he has enjoyed all the prosperity in the world, still he seeks and humbly keeps his integrity before his God. Such a man, however, meets with one disaster after another. Even then he allows no curse to cross his mind or lips; on the contrary, he walks humbly with God, bless-ing him still. However, in the prolonged anguish of his final dis-aster, made worse by his three friends preachifying to the effect that every sufferer must be necessarily a sinner, he is stung to the quick and so driven to defend his honor. He argues with them point by point, personally convinced that there is no sin that would explain his suffering. In between he puts the matter before God, too, quite unafraid, now lamenting his plight, now com-plaining to him, now appealing to him, now reasoning with him, now challenging him, then yearning to reach him, all the while wanting to vindicate his stand that he is innocent, whatever the traditional doctrine of retribution may be. He has supplicated alone and in company, aloud and in silence, passing through the struggle of it all, only to be surprised at the end by the mysteri- Nove~nber-Decen;ber 1993 829 Dontinic ¯ Desire, Asking, and Answers ous and yet overwhelmingly peaceful vision of God clearing up all the aggnizing questions and difficulties. The three biblical episodes ~nay be compared to one another as regards three elements common to them. First, the three pro-tagonists experience an urgent desire. Second, they take it up in their prayer, making it indeed their whole prayer, however long drawn out it may be. Third, they attain something positive. First, then, they are alike in experiencing desires, however various the desires may be. Hannah desires a son. Her desire is natural, normal, proper, appropriate, and worthy inasmuch as she wants only the full enjoyment of her marriage as willed by God right from the beginning. David desires that the son of his passion, born of another man's wife, should live and not die. His desire, too, is natural and normal and yet perhaps not especially worthy, if only because the circumstantial will of God is for the child of adultery to die. Job desires an answer to the puzzle of his unde-served suffering. His desire, too, is nor~nal and natural and yet only dubiously proper against the background of the common traditional belief that every suffering implies some sin in the suf-ferer. While Hannah's desire is in every way agreeable, David's and Job's are not particularly so. David resists the apparent mind of God regarding the fruit of his sin, and Job's honest and frank desire is naively bold because it seems to put God in the wrong. Second, however one evaluates the three desires, they are nevertheless real and candid; the persons know and feel their desire as only they can. They find it so urgent that they do not fight shy of voicing it before other "people and even before God. They do not simply pray about it, but make it their sole and con-stant prayer. Without any distracting self-consciousness, they sim-ply present themselves before God as they experience their desire consuming them, not minding or caring whether they might come across to casual observers as strange or surprising or suspect. Possessed by their sole burning desire, they beseech God persis-tently without any thought of circumspection or shame or seem-ing propriety till something good happens to them--which leads to my third point. In Hannah's case, what happens is just what she has desired and prayed for. She gets a son and calls him Samuel since, as she says, "I asked Yahweh iCor him" (i S 1:20). In David's case, what happens is just the opposite:of his lingering desire and prayer. His ill-gotten child whom he wants to see saved dies of illness. But 830 Re'view for Religious David--note well--comes alive after the whole ordeal of pray-ing, pining, and fasting. He bathes, anoints himself, dresses up, goes to the sanctuary, then sits down to a meal, and finally even consoles his forlorn Bathsheba. In Job's case, what happens is not just what he agonizingly wanted to find, for he finds far more than he has dared ask. He has asked only for a vindicating proof of his undeserved suffering, but he is given to see God himself, the answer of all possible problems and puzzles. It may appear at first sight that the prayer arising from and suffused with unquenchable desire turns out to be a success for Hannah, a fail-ure for David, and a mere struggle for Job. But further reflection would show that the reality or radicality of their experience is not that simple. The feverish desires of David and Job may not have ended in natural, ordinary, and expected satisfaction as in the case of Hannah. But they too have their definite, unmistakable denouement, with their desires set at rest. Indeed, they attain what may be called the res-olution of their desires, a positive ending to their experience of desire in and through and by means of prayer. Here is a lesson for life. Despite the obvious differences in their desires, Hannah, David, and Job all end up with positive experiences through prayer. Their prayer experience has some-thing in common: making their desire transparent to God or, bet-ter, living their desire before God in all its urgency. The experience of any urgent desire is itself a sort of struggle till its ful-fillment. This is only accentuated when the fulfillment of desire depends, not on oneself, but on the good pleasure of another--in the present context, God. So Hannah prays in an unusual manner, speaking under her breath, giving room for suspicion that she is drunk. So too does David, to the surprise of his officials, covering himself with sack-ing, lying on the bare ground and keeping a strict fast. So too does Job, confounding and shocking his onlookers by his unortho-dox stand that, though he has been afflicted with the worst of Despite the obvious differences in their desires, Hannah, David, and Job all end up with positive experiences through prayer. November-December 1993 831 Dominic ¯ Desire, Asking, and Answers sufferings, he cannot be accused of having really sinned. Even if he occasionally concedes, for the sake of argument, that he has sinned, he challenges God outright: "Suppose I have sinned, what have I done to you?" (Jb 7:20). But the burden of his prayer runs now and again in such words as these: "I shall say to God, 'Do not condemn me, but tell me the reason for your assault. Is it right for you to injure me, cheapening the work of your own hands and abetting the schemes of the wicked?'" (Jb 10:2-3). He ends his apologia daringly with no apology whatever: "I have had my say, from A to Z; now let Shaddai answer me" (Jb 31:35). How acute must be the struggle of the man who, in his dire straits, makes bold to speak to God without mincing words about what he wants. If Hannah and David, too, definitely pass through quite a struggle in their prayer seeking what they want, theirs would seem to be nothing compared with the struggle of Job for God's own vindication of his innocence. Generally speaking, the struggle experienced in prayer as peo-ple keep on imploring God for what they want is proportionate to the intensity of their desire. The surpassing struggle Job goes through in his prayer reveals how hard he desires. There is, if one may put it this way, truth in his desire. That is to say, his desire is so true and so truly possessing and consuming him that he needs must seek its fulfillment by every means possible, even if it should entail a gigantic struggle. Here may be raised a very important question concerning prayer. If people pray and complain that they do not get an answer to their prayer, it may be asked whether their prayer arises out of truth, the truth of their desire in the sense suggested above. People may be accustomed to and satisfied with bland preferences, with mere velleities, and thus ,nay not have true desire even if they know, or seem to know, what they desire. Certainly velleities are palt~ desires. It is worth noting in this context that Job with his ruling desire and passionate prayer is a fictitious figure, unlike Hannah and David. From this may one not infer that people like Job are seldom found in real life, that rarely are real people moved by strong, ardent, fervent, and in a word true desire? But without desire there can be no prayer, for desire is part and parcel of prayer. St. Thomas said so (as I have indicated above), and St. Augustine had said something similar much ear-lier. Writing to Proba on prayer, he pointed out that, if the Lord wants us to pray even though he certainly knows independently 832 Review for Religious our wants and needs, it is because "he wants our desire to be exer-cised in prayer, thus enabling us to grasp what he is preparing to give.''2 He added: "We pray always in faith, hope, and love, with uninterrupted desire. Btit at certain hours and seasons we also pray with words. We use these signs of realities to rouse our-selves, to become aware of the growth of our desire, and to strongly move ourselves to increase it . What do the Apostle's words, 'Pray constantly,' mean, if not that we must constantly desire. ?-3 Of course, one may remark quite correctly that in the context Augustine had in his mind a constant desire for the blessedness of eternal life. One may observe just as correctly, however, that what we do in prayer--namely, exercise our desire--may reach out not only to eternal life, but to present life as well, with aH that we want here and now. Anyhow, the very prayer that Jesus taught explicitly is not confined to holy desires connected with God and his kingdom, but, in the phrase "daily bread," makes mention of ordinary human desires and material needs. The Lord's Prayer certainly includes the gamut of human desires, from the lofty to the lowly. Other teachings of Jesus on prayer also focus on desire expe-rienced and expressed before God. The parables of the importu-nate friend and the widow (Lk 11:5-8; 18:1-8), for instance, emphasize the keenness of desire without which prayer would flag and falter. Apart from desire there can be no meaning in prayer of peti.tion; and it is this sort of simple, straightforward prayer that Jesus mostly speaks of. His injunction regarding effec-tive, infallible prayer is to "ask. search., knock" (Mr 7:7); and this really means that one should go on asking and searching and knocking with the growing impulse of intense desire. This real-ity of glowing desire may throw light even on the basic require-ment-- namely, belief or faith--in all such prayer. For instance, in the saying of Jesus that "everything you ask and pray for, believe that );ou have it already, and it will be yours" (Mk 11:24), the action of belief is as much an activity of desire as it is anything else.4 When belief comes into play in prayer, it invariably brings desire into the foreground, the desire which was already there in the prayer right from the start. All this is not a matter of theory but of practice, as may be seen in dealings of Jesus wifla people to whom he grants favors. In the case of the Syrophoenician woman, Jesus senses right from November-Decentber 1993 833 Dominic ¯ Desire, Asking, and Answers the beginning how badly she desires the healing of her daughter. His apparent reluctance to accede to her request only brings out all the more her desire, at once insistent and persistent, regard-ing her daughter's welfare. He takes note of it and refers to it with pleasant surprise when he finally' gives his word of favor to her request (see Mk 7:24-30).s Just the opposite is the story of the sick man at the Pool of Bethzatha (Jn 5:1-6). When Jesus sees him and knows how long he has been ill, he asks him, "Do you want to be well again?" It is a surprising question at first, but on reflection very revealing. Jesus cannot heal the sick man unless he first desires it. As the man had been ill for so long, perhaps he no longer has any desire for healing. It is precisely to awaken this desire that Jesus puts the question to him. Today, too, neither Jesus nor his Father can hear any prayer unless it arises in real desire and is poured out in ardent desire and sustained in unabated desire. It matters how much and how far we desire whatever we desire. As I conclude, I find myself won-derii~ g if social activists have an idea how much they can effect by prayer that is sharpened by the "violence" of desire. When I say violence here, I am thinking of that intriguing logion: "The king-dom of God has been subjected to violence and the violent are tak-ing it by storm" (Mt 11:12). Notes ~ See Simon Tugwell, Prayer in Practice (Springfield, Illinois, 1974), p. 75. 2 See The Divine Office, vol. 3 (London, Glasgow, Sydney, Dublin, 1974), p. 662. 3 Letters of Saint Augustine, ed. and trans. John Leinenweber (Liguori, Missouri: Triumph Books, 1992), p. 172. 4 The Markan version lends itself to such an interpretation, unlike the Matthean parallel 21:22 with its connotation of faith as a matter of not doubting about what is prayed for. s Here again Mark is different from Matthew. Mark tells the plain story of the woman with her heart's desire whereas Matthew stylizes it in terms of faith (Mt 15:21-28). 834 Review for Religious JUDETTE A. GALLARES Companionship Spirituality in Ruth Te Book of Ruth is one of the immortal love stories in the ble. It takes as its characters and events ordinary people and mundane life situations to which we can easily find parallels in our world today. The book's primary purpose, however, is not to entertain and delight its audience with plot complications, sus-pense, and a satisfying denouement, but to hold up to its readers and listeners authentic models of covenantal faith? What is this covenantal faith, and how does companionship enter into its perspective? What does the spirituality of compan-ionship teach us in our experiences of change, life transitions, and emptiness? To glean some answers to these questions, it is beneficial to allow to sink into our consciousness Ruth's words to Naomi, her mother-in-law, which have become an immortal prayer of companionship. Let us look at her words within their context as summarized here. During the time of the judges, Elimelech of Bethlehem, together with his wife Naomi and his two sons Mahlon and Chilion, migrated to Moab to escape a famine in Judah. Elimelech died in Moab. His sons married two Moabite women, Orpah and Ruth. The two sons also died, however, leaving two childless wid-ows with their widowed mother-in-law. Naomi decided to return to Bethlehem, and her daughters-in-law, set off with her. While they were on the road, she urged her daughters-in-law each to return to her mother's house, for she was unsure of what future Judette A. Gallares RC is involved in spiritual direction and retreat work in the Philippines and conducts courses on biblical spirituality and spiritual direction for lay and religious formators. Her address is Cenacle Sisters; 217-G.D. Jakosalem Street; Cebu City 6000; Philippines. Novetnber-Deconber 1993 835 Gallares ¯ Companionship Spirituality in Ruth they would have with her. Orpah sorrowfully returned to her fam-ily, but Ruth clung to her mother-in-law in spite of Naomi's prod-ding that she follow Orpah's decision. Instead, she responded in these words: Do not press me to leave you and to stop going with you, for wherever you go, I shall go, wherever you live, I shall live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Where you die, I shall die and there I shall be buried. Let Yahweh bring unnameable ills on me and worse ills, too, if anything but death should part me from you! (Rt 1:16-17). Realizing that Ruth was determined to go with her, Naomi stopped urging her. Both went on their journey until they reached Bethlehem. Migration was rather typical of ancient Palestine. Families often migrated because of the frequent occurrence of famine in the area. The country of Moab, with a narrow strip of well-watered and fertile land running north and south in its center, was an attractive refuge, and so Elimelech, Naomi, and their two sons migrated there. This scenario is familiar even today. To escape economic dif-ficulties caused by drought or increased militarization in third-world rural areas, people flock to the cities and towns seeking either the pot of gold or refuge from military oppression. Professionals continually migrate from third-world to first-world countries in search of better opportunities even though, regret-tably, this slows down socioeconomic development in their own countries. Migration for the sake of survival and a better life is an undei'- standable occurrence in any generation and culture. Biblical lit-erature records a number of such departures. We recall Joseph and his famil)) moving to Goshen (Gn 47:27) and a widow fol-lowing Elisha's advice and moving to the land of the Philistines (2 K 8). So Elimelech's decision to leave Bethlehem of Judah together with his family is understandable. To alert us immediately to the development and historical probability of the story, the author also gives the characters names which in Hebrew have symbolic meanings. Elimelech means "my God is king"; Naomi means "pleasant"; the two sons' names, Mahlon and Chilion, .mean "sickness" and "wasting," respectively.2 After they have settled in Moab, death strikes the male members 836 Review for Religious of Naomi's family. Elimelech dies first. Naomi is left with her two sons, who later marry native women. But after ten years the sons also die without leaving any sons. Naomi, a widow of advanced age with no sons but only non-Jewish and childless daughters-in-law, is therefore destined for a life of destitution and social oppression. In her emptiness and poverty, Naomi decides to return to the land of her birth because the famine there is over. Perhaps she thinks her own townspeople will be kinder to her in her poverty than if she were to remain in Moab as a widowed foreigner. Her two widowed daughters-in-law initially go with her, but she urges them to return to their own families. She just cannot impose her desire and longing for her own land and people on her already suffering daughters-in-law, nor can she deprive them of the small consolation that their own homeland would provide them. Besides, she knows that it would be much more dif-ficult for them, being foreigners, to remarry in her homeland than in theirs because Hebrew laws discourage marriage with foreigners.3 Here Naomi is projected as a practical person. She uses the time, not for grieving, but for doing something in a situation that needs a practical solution. Naomi's use of the unusual phrase "mother's house" is to be noted, for a house is usually designated as one's father's.4 Some com-mentators believe it is used to symbolize or to emphasize the absence of men in the women's lives.5 From another perspective it can also be seen as words of consolation to the suffering women, for the word "mother" evokes images of the love, care, and nur-turance one would long for in a time of brokenness. Orpah heeds Naomi's advice and returns to her people: Ruth refuses. Mthough the motif of ~mptiness is strongly accentuated here, by Naomi's saying that her womb will have no more sons, we see that she is not totally bereft, for Ruth would cling to her and not allow her to return to her homeland alone. Responding to her mother-in-law's pleading send-off with words of loyalty and devotion, Ruth vows to accompany Naomi through a per-ilous journey into an uncertain future. Migration for the sake of survival and a better life is an understandable occurrence in any generation and culture. Novevnber-Dece~nber 1993 837 Gallares ¯ Companionship Spirituality in Ruth Ruth pledges covenant fidelity and claims as her own Naomi's place, people, and God.6 In her beautiful and moving response, Ruth clings not to a past but to a present--not to a male through whom she may achieve power and access, but to a female, one who needs her, one for whom she will provide protection, care, and access.7 Ruth thus gives to her mother-in-law the only thing she possesses, her very self. Even if society destines both of them to a life of extreme poverty as widows, they still have each other. We can still see this kind of attitude among simple poor families. They are extremely loyal to their own members and sacrifice for and protect one another in good times and in bad. Together the two widows now turn their faces resolutely toward Palestine and the city of Bethlehem. The distance between Moab and Bethlehem is only about 120 miles, but this stretch represents a long, fatiguing, and dangerous trek in this period, especially for two women who have neither money beyond their barest needs nor protector.8 It is this journey through barren places that will perhaps bring them closer to each other and cause them to cling more closely together for protection, comfort, and support. Covenantal Faith amid Emptiness in Life Transitions The contrast between emptiness and fullness runs through the entire book. This is seen, not only in the setting itself, but also in the lives of the women characters. The famine or the emptiness of the land that sets the story in motion drives Naomi's family to seek greener fields. Leaving one's country and culture as Naomi did is an experience of emptying, an experience of loss: food, rela-tionships, property, land. It is a recurring motif in the life of Israel and throughout salvation history, beginning with God inviting Abraham to leave his clan and his ancestral home for a promised land. In Abraham we see that God's promise and blessing are indissolubly bound up with a departure, an emptying of anything that prevents one from setting out on an adventure with God. For Naomi, however, Moab turned out to be a place of empti-ness, not a land of promise. There she lost not only her husband but her two sons as well. Her emptiness seemed irreparable, her life hollow deep within. These words of the psalmist could have echoed in her heai't: "How could we sing a song of the Lord in a foreign land?" (Ps 137:4 NAB).)It would be difficult indeed for 838 Review for Religious anyone in Naomi's predicament to sing a song to God amid feel-ings of alienation from God, life, others, and even self. Grief has a way of devouring our spiritual life, leaving us in the desert to feel parched, empty, depleted, lonely, and alienated. Naomi could attribute the cause of her incurable emptiness only to God: "Yahweh's hand has been raised against me." Thus, only God also could fill it. Beyond her empty feeling and sense of God's absence is perhaps a fragile hope that God will also cause her misery to cease. Perhaps this was in her mind and heart when, "having heard that Yahweh had come to help his people by giving them food, Naomi prepared to return home." Her poverty and her emptiness are so basic that they can be intimated by an unadorned reference to food. Beyond a need to fill her physical hunger, she perhaps has a keen desire to reconcile herself with the past, to catch a glimpse of home and of who she is meant to be. John Dunne once wrote9: At every turn in the road a new illuminating is needed to find the way and a new kindling is needed to follow the way. Dunne seems to speak here of moments of transition in one's life when one needs to search within to find illumination or guid-ance to continue going forward on the road to life. This search involves returning to the past, to one's home and roots and being reconciled with them. Naomi, in her poverty and emptiness, thinks of home not only as a place where she could experience God's blessing again' (having heard that Yahweh had come to help his people), but also as a place where she can find peace and acceptance of her painful situation ("Do not call me Naomi. Call me Mara, for God has made life bitter for me"). Her words reflect a deep longing that is present in every human heart. A part in us is always yearning and quietly crying out for the true homeland where life is no longer painful and unfair,l° Undoubtedly Naomi's two Moabite daughters-in-law are also experiencing emptiness and grief at losing their husbands. In their loss their initial response is to cling to what is familiar (to continue living with Naomi and to remain in her clan) even if it does not seem to give them any kind of future. Orpah is practical minded in dealing with her emptiness. In spite of the pain of saying good-bye to Naomi and Ruth and to matters that have become famil-iar to her, she heeds Naomi's advice and returns to her mother's November-December 199~ 839 Gallares ¯ Companionship Spirituality in Ruth house. Perhaps she feels hopeful that life can still offer her a future in her own homeland, and perhaps she, like Naomi, has a renewed glimpse of home and the possibility of who she can still become. Companionship in Time of Transition On the other hand, Ruth clings to her mother-in-law and takes the risk of embracing, her, her land, and her God even if the future is uncertain and seemingly bleak. Although she too is going through ~ransition, she offers Naomi her presence and com-panionship. She feels for her mother-in-law because she too knows the pain of loss and the difficulty of adjusting to a new reality. But, unlike Naomi, she is not allowing this life transition to dis-courage her or to embitter her. For her a return to her mother's house has seemed to be a movement away from what and who she is meant to be. Instead, she follows the movement of Israel's first patriarch by leaving her homeland and venturing into the unknown. Like Abraham she departs from her homeland and empties herself of anything that prevents her from setting out on an adventure with Abraham's and Naomi's God. But, unlike Abraham, she does not perceive the God of Israel as giving her a promise and a blessing. She has none of these assurances. She leaves relying only on Naomi's God and the strength of her love for her mother-in-law. She deals with her emptiness by further emptying herself s~ she can embrace totally the God of Abraham, of Naomi, and of Israel. She lets go of the past in order to embrace the future with great faithfulness. And in these b~autiful words which have become an immortal prayer of fidelity, ~he accompa-nies Naomi through her life transition: Wherever you go, I shill go, wherever you live, I shall live. Your people will be my people, and your God will be my God. Wherever you die, I shall die and there I shall be buried. Let Yahweh bring unnameable ills on me and worse ills, too, if anything but death should part me from you! (1:16-17 NJB). As we have seen, biblical fidelity recalls the faith of Israel that began with the departure of Abraham and led to the Mosaic covenant with God. It remembers the unique friendship estab-lished between God and Israel that is echoed in the entire Book of.Ruth and is exemplified by Ruth and other people in the story. 840 Review for Religiot~s At the heart of this covenant fidelity is the people's faith that Yahweh is the God of life who calls them to greater life. In the language and setting of today, faith calls us to face the light and to choose life. It enables us to look upon each letting go with optimism and prepares us to face other more painful relin-quishments that commit us more fully to God's service. It enables us to catch a glimpse of who we are meant to be. As with Ruth and Naomi, faith urges us to move forward and embrace the God of life. Notes L Alice L. Laffey, "Ruth," in the New Jerome Biblical Commentary (Englewood Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice Hall, 1990), p. 553. 2 Ibid. 3 Intermarriage was prohibited, not on ethnic grounds, but to avoid religious syncretism and to foster the worship of Yahweh (see Ex 34:15ff). See Madeleine S. Miller and J. Lane Miller, Harper's Bible Dictiona,7 (New York: Harper and Row Publishers, 1973), p. 422. 4 Ibid. s Ibid. 6 See Laffey, p. 555. 7 Ibid. 8 Edith Deen, All of the Women of the Bible (San Francisco: Harper and Row Publishers, 1983), p. 84. 9 Quoted byJoyce Rupp OSM in Praying Our Goodbyes (Notre Dame, Ind.: Ave Maria Press, 1988), p. 77. ~0 Ibid, p. 24. Novonber-Decentber 1993 841 JOHN P. MOSSI The Spirituality of Surrender Losing, whether it is losing a friendly bet, an important argument, or a business contract, is a difficult pill to swal-low. We detest losing. The same is true for tiny diehard sports fan who endures a hometown rout. We walk away replaying the game, blaming the unfair referees, or creating strategies that "would have" favorably altered the score. When the defeat entails greater stakes, there is higher resis-tance to a surrender. To address a serious problem like addiction is personally painful. Implicit in such reality is a pervasive sense of failure. One has lost control over life's direction. The only way to regain control is to surrender what has not worked and seek a new way. This process is replete with difficulty. This article will examine the spirituality of surrender as a means of comin.g home to God? Surrendering to God will be looked at in three ways. The first involves an understanding of how surrender is operative in twelve-step recovery programs like Alcoholics Anonymous. The second involves a look at the life of Ignatius of Loyola and the surrender components of the final prayer of the Spiritual Exercises, the "Suscipe," or "Take and Receive." The third considers Jesus' act of surrender on the cross in Luke 23:46. Each of these three different "ways" of surren-dering involves putting our ultimate identity and confidence in God. John P. Mossi SJ, a member of the Religious Studies Department at Gonzaga University, facilitates courses in pastoral counseling, spiritual mentoring, addiction and pastoral approaches to recovery, and Catholicism. His address is Gonzaga University; Jesuit Residence; Spokane, Washington 99258. 842 Review for Religious Let Go, Let God At Alcoholics Anonymous meetings or twelve-step recovery retreats, the expression "Let go, let God" is often used. These four important words constitute the core spirituality of A.A. and similar recovery programs that have adapted the twelve steps to their particular addiction. "Let go, let God" is an invitation to surrender one's umnanageable life to God. "Let go, let God" is a gentle conversion reminder, a kind of mantra, which assists us both to admit the addiction and to hand it over along with its various forms of com-pulsions to God. The long form of the prayer would be something like "Let go of alcohol (or whatever the specific substance or non-substance addiction might be) and let the hand and grace of God guide my life." The prayer is not magic. Saying "Let go, let God" does not instantaneously bring about recovery. Its first purpose is to assist the recov-ering addict to keep to the daily partnership task of surrendering the addiction to God. The second purpose of "Let go, let God" is. to be a prayer of liberation, to call on the greater power of God to help one escape from destructive lifestyle patterns. In this way the creative resources of the individual and the action of God are focused on together. The prayer also serves to silence those addic-tion- related inner-committee tapes and voices of doubt, loneli-ness, fear, and caustic shame that can interfere with a person's slow recovery. These, too, need to be handed over to God. I have the greatest admiration for all who enter the surrender process of a twelve-step program. For many, it is the difference between death and life, the difference between barely existing as a human and participating in community, between dysfunction-alism and experiencing the serenity that only God gives with amazing grace. The first three steps of Anonymous programs set up this "Let go, let God" dynamic. The language of the twelve steps is straight-forward and simple. This is part of their wisdom and wide appeal. The steps make sense to a lot of people. Since A.A. began in 1935 at Akron, Ohio, Anonymous recovery programs have multiplied to treat various forms of addiction.2 These include Narcotics "Let go, let God" is an invitation to surrender one's unmanageable life to God. November-December 1993 843 Mossi ¯ The Spirituality of Surrender Anonymous, Overeaters Anonymous, Gamblers Anonymous, Emotions Anonymous, Workaholics Anonymous, Sexaholics Anonymous, M-Anon, and Adult Children of Mcoholics. Let us examine these first three steps. 1. We admitted we were powerless over alcohol [or the other specific addiction], that our lives had become unmanageable) The first step is crucial. You admit you have a serious prob-lem. There is no denial of the fact. The blunt reality is your life is out of control, in fact, unmanageable. Furthermore, you are powerless to do anything about it. At Anonymous meetings, this first step is handled in an up-front manner. When members speak, they state their first name and their addictiveness: "I'm John. I'm an alcoholic." "I'm Susan. I'm a recovering overeater." In formal religion we might refer to this acknowledgment as group confession. In recovery programs it is simply admitting what can no longer be denied. Step one is an honest, vulnerable beginning place. Owning and naming the unmanageable addiction is essential to the surrendering process. When one is aware o£ a specific uncontrollable disease, one can effectively pray "Let go." But to whom does one surrender? Steps two and three look at the second part of the mantra: "Let God." God is the significant associate in restoring harmony. To appreciate the spirituality of the twelve steps, it is important to reflect that the existence and action of God are mentioned seven times in the twelve steps. The par-ticular addiction is only mentioned once, and that is in the first step. The activity of surrendering one's addiction and life to God becomes the spirituality cornerstone of the remaining steps. 2. We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.4 Step two admits the need of an outside corrective authority, a Higher Power, to bring about a stability in one's life. This is the first glimpse of light that invites God in as the restorer of sanity. There are two other important spirituality elements opera-tire in the second step: (i) the belief that a Higher Wisdom exists and (2) a disposition of humility on the part of the believer. These two qualities counterculturally work against the arrogance of the ego that craves to cling to the addiction. Step two indicates that the recovery process entails an attentive listening to a new Teacher, which means that the addict has to take on the attitude 844 Review for Religious of learner. There is a major shift in trust: from addiction to God. 3. We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood him.s Step three is where the capitulation actually occurs. First, a concrete decision to surrender has to be made. Second, this deci-sion is total. It includes the will making conscious choices, and it affects one's entire being and journey. Third, the whole person is placed in the care of God according to the individual's faith back-ground. The spirituality of "Let go, let God" is a conversion process. Conversion of its nature has two basic movements: the surren-dering of the compulsion, shame, and destructive addictive pat-terns which reduce freedom; the turning to the care of God and the Holy Spirit to be one's permanent resource of wisdom and identity. Matthew 11:28-30 speaks of a "letting go, letting God" pro-cess: "Come to me, all you who labor and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light.''6 These three verses contain the confirmation signs that accompany a true surrender. A learning will occur, the process will be gentle and humble. Rest will be experienced. A new relationship arises, a companionship with the Master, which will be nonaddictive, easy, and light. The Surrender of Ignatius of Loyola Another way of surrendering one's life to God comes from the spirituality of Ignatius's surrender as expressed in his prayer the "Suscipe," or "Take and Receive." On his pilgrim journey Ignatius was called to surrender on several notable occasions. The first was during the defense of the city of Pamplona, Spain. In 1521 Ignatius, wounded by cannon shrapnel, reviewed the illusions of his life as sober death approached. But he did not die. His long convalescence became a conversion process. He gradually yielded up his stubborn self-preoccupation, bravado, and ambition and began to discover a new self in God.7 The spirituality record of Ignatius's surrender to God is found in his classic work, the Spiritual Exercises. Today, 450 years after its first published edition, it is still considered a significant theo-logical work noted for its integration of Scripture, guidelines for Nove~nber-Dece'mber 1993 845 Mossi ¯ The Spirituality of Surrender discernment, sense of mission, and themes of justice. The Exercises' developmental stages of growth in discipleship and intimacy enable a person to come home to God. The last prayer of the Exercises is called the "Suscipe" or "Take and Receive." I invite you to spend some time contemplating the components of this prayer. What is Ignatius, the once vain soldier-at- arms, now a mystic, asking us to do? Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my understanding, and my entire will-- all that I have and call my own. You have given it all to me. To you, Lord, I return it. Everything is yours; do with it what you will. Give me only your love and your grace. That is enough for me.8 The "Suscipe" is a deceptively profound prayer. It invites us to acknowledge the primacy of God in our totality; it answers the humbling question "What aspect of our being is not a gift of God?" In the light of this answer, Ignatius invites us to surrender all to God. The last part of the prayer is a seeking of the purer gifts: "Give me only your love and grace. That is enough for me." Ignatius does not compromise in the process of "letting go of self and letting God in." I recall a forceful experience in praying the "Suscipe." It hap-pened fifteen years ago during a retreat. I attempted to pray and could not. I realized I had not surrendered anything, certainly not my liberty, memory, understanding, and will to anyone, much less to God. I told my director that I could not pray this prayer at all. As a consequence, I seriously questioned remaining a Jesuit. The director gave sage advice. He invited me to return to the chapel and pray the "Suscipe" with my own words in my own way. I prayed, "Lord, I give you my sins which I know so well, those many areas of my life where I am not obedient, poor, and chaste. I give you my pride, my negativity, my hatred and vin-dictiveness, my compulsive rebellion and addictiveness to self. I am overly familiar with these dark recesses. And I truly need to sur-render these to you. Send forth your Holy Spirit to guide, anoint, ¯ and heal with a love that I am most in need of, your grace." 846 Review for Religious Like an ambush, the opportunity to surrender can appear at unlikely moments. Do not let the occasion pass by. The benefit of letting God in always outweighs whatever is surrendered. Jesus on the Cross We turn to the spirituality of Jesus and the particular way he has taught us to surrender. He, too, had to face a special moment of surrender. His prayer in Luke 23:46 is a powerful expression of letting go: "Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.''9 Here on the cross Jesus is still the master teacher. He models for us how to pray and hand over our daily experiences and our life to God. Notice the key elements: (1) The prayer is addressed to the Father; (2)Jesus urges us to surrender, to commend, to let go; (3) Jesus specifies what is to be handed over. He gives what little is left, his spirit and last breath. In the daily minor or major surrenders of our own pilgrimage, we can pray in the spirituality of either the twelve steps, Ignatius, or Jesus. Specify in the "Let go, let God" mantra and the "Suscipe" whatever needs to be named and yielded: "Let go of addiction and manipulation. Let God in." "Take, Lord, my dis-honesty, my hurts, my doubts and sinfulness." God can handle and work with these blighted areas quite well. Adapt the prayer of Jesus to your immediate concerns: "Father, into your hands I commit my grief, my sense of failure, my disappointment, my pettiness and vulnerability." Commend these regions of brokenness to the higher compassion and under-standing of God. It is clear that not only our joys but also our sorrows must be offered to God. Our ability to be powerless allows God to meet us and tenderly heal us on our journey, embracing us as we truly are. Moreover, the art 6f surrendering involves a lifelong process. Some days we succeed better than others. If we post-pone learning the spirituality of surrender, we will face it unpre-pared at death, when .the surrender is sudden. Perhaps we can learn to surrender to the care, to the heart, of God in advance. Notes ~ For more information on this topic, see Gerald G. May, Addiction and Grace (San Francisco: HarperCollins, 1991), pp. 162-181. Nove'mber-December 1993 847 Mossi * The Spirituality of Surrender 2 Ernest Kurtz, Not-God: A Histo~7 of Alcoholics Anonymous (Center City, Minn.: Hazeldon, 1991), pp. 37-57. 3 Anonymous, Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions (New York: Alcoholics Anonymous World Services, 1952), p. 21. 4 Ibid, p. 25. ~ Ibid, p. 34. 6 The New Jerusalem Bible (New York: Doubleday, 1985). 7 St. Ignatius' Own Story, trans. William J. Young sJ (Chicago: Henry Regnery Co., 1956), pp. 7-27. 8 David L. Fleming SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1980), p. 141. 9 The New Jerusalem Bible. Retreat: A Flight The gulls are going wild over the waters; dipping, zooming, swirling over the wild waters. Far away, at horizon's edge, two ships imperceptibly inch against a purpling sky. I look up and see clouds playing charades before my eyes; straight out, the waves, wind-tossed, chase the dunes relentlessly. It is December at Mantoloking, and my Advent prayer has taken off with the clouds and the winds and the waves. I surrender, like a Maid of long ago to a time of begetting: in Mary, a Word made Flesh. in me, a sign become Faith. each a way of holding Beauty as a born-for-us Savior in a free-for-all world where the gulls (and my heart) go dipping, zooming, swirling with the wild of wonder. Anna Marie Mack SSJ 848 Review for Religious JEFFREY GROS The Ecumenical Vocation of Religious When Pope John emphasized the unity of the church and its openness to the world in inaugurating Vatican Council II, few realized the cost that such conversion would exact. Some felt euphoria, expecting the whole Roman Catholic Church to be zealous for reunion among Christians and hoping for a quick resolution of the theological, sacra-mental, and historical problems dividing the churches. Others, even some receptive to conciliar reform, had the superficial expectation that ecumenical openness would settle for a warm but noncommittal outreach, diminishing hostilities but not calling for the radical conversion and institutional reform outlined in the conciliar decree on ecumenism. The last twenty-five years have been a reward-ing and challenging pilgrimage for the Roman Catholic Church and for its Christian partners on the road toward full visible unity. Those who would consider the ecu-menical movement dead have not been following the lit-erature nor have they felt spiritual bonds of communion becoming stronger as many ofhers have. The Holy Spirit has been very much at work, but not all have yet been vis-ited with the gift of conversion. It is small wonder that, as the Roman Catholic Church assesses its ecumenical involvement and charts its course for the future, its Directory for the Application of Principles Jeffrey Gros FSC works in the Secretariat for Ecumenical and Interreligious Affairs. His address is 3211 4th Street N.E.; Washington, D.C. 20017-1194. ecurnenJsrn November-December 1993 849 Coos * The Ecumenical Vocation of Reli#ous and Norms on Ecumenism (June 1993) gives special emphasis to ecumenical formation.~ Indeed, the ecumenical movement has been so successful that a whole genre of literature has emerged, resulting from the ecumenical dialogue, that calls for both spe-cialized study and incorporation into the spiritual life of all Catholics, including religious. Twenty-five years ago it was pos-sible to be ecumenical merely by being open to and supportive of the general conciliar position and by praying for the unity of the church. Today ecumenical commitments have become a richer and more complex spectrum. Most religious-formation programs gave emphasis to ecumenism a decade or two ago. They need evaluation today to see if they continue faithful to the develop-ments of this part of Catholic identity. In the new Directory there is for the first time a specific section devoted to institutes of con-secrated life and societies of apostolic life, not only laying out principles, but also proposing delegates and commissions for ecu-menism at the highest levels in religious institutes.2 This Directory is a help towards renewal. It covers such top-ics as the basis in Catholic theology for ecumenical commitment; the structures in the Catholic Church--including religious com-munities- to support the ecumenical commitment; ecumenical formation of the laity and the clergy, and within specialized min-istries and institutions; spirituality as it pertains to common bap-tism, marriage, and sacramental sharing; and cooperation and common witness. After a short introduction this essay will be lim-ited to some rather general comments on two issues: ecumenical formation and collaboration. Religious have been instrumental in Roman Catholic ecu-menism- such pioneers as Congar, Tavard, Rahner, and Dulles. Some religious communities have prayer and work for the unity of the church as their charism, like the Graymoor friars and sis-ters and the Paulist fathers? Others have set up special supports for the ecumenical movement, like the Jesuit Society of Ecumenists and the Benedictine centers at Collegeville, Chevetogne, Turvey, and Niederaltaich. Outreach programs to incorporate lay people in, for example, Jesuit, Mercy, or Lasallian spirituality and apostolates have been thoroughly ecumenical in their membership and formation. Schools, hospitals, and other institutions animated by religious in leadership positions have pioneered the ecumenical program of the Catholic Church. Among diocesan ecumenical officers are many religious. Where 850 Review for Religious shared mission is a priority, the baptismal basis and commitment to full ecclesial communion are central to the common forma-tion of the fellow Christians who are brought into collaboration with Roman Catholic religious according to their particular charisms. These developments, like the other elements of renewal, have been adapted according to cultural context and the quality of vision provided by ecclesiastical and religious leadership. The Context Certainly many bishops and religious superiors will use the occasion of the publication of the Directory as an opportunity to train specialists in ecumenical leadership, much as retraining in canon law developed after the publication of the 1983 Code.4 As in biblical, social, and liturgical renewal, expertise is necessary in ecumenism. It is essential, however, that all religious, lay, and clerical members of the church be formed ecumenically as part of their spiritual and apostolic life. The Second Vatican Council clearly asked Catholics to reach out in love to all other Christians with a charity that desires and works actively to overcome in truth whatever divides them from one another. For the council, Catholics are to act in hope and in prayer to promote Christian unity. They will be prompted and instructed by their faith in the mystery of the church, and their ecumenical activity will be inspired and guided by a true understanding of the church as "sacrament or iristrumental sign of intimate union with God, and of unity of the whole human race.''s In this sho~'t essay attention will be called to the ecumenical dimension of Roman Catholic spirituality and identity in its pres-ent challenges. Among the institutional supports to religious involved in the ecumenical movement is the National Ecumenical Consultation of Men and Women Religious. This .group's publication of Religious for Christian Unity as an ecumenical resource and direc-tory and its sponsorship of a national ecumenical conference under the theme "Toward a Communion in Faith Life and Witness" are indications of a certain maturity.6 Although there has been an international ecumenical consultation for twenty years, the United States consultation is only nine years old. It is sponsored in part by the Conference of Major Superiors of Men and the Leadership Conference of Women Religious. With the publication and the November-December 1993 851 Gros ¯ The Ecumenical Vocation of Reh~ous May 1993 conference, the specific ecumenical contribution of religious begins to have a higher profile. For the first time, the Directory proposes a structure within religious congregations to assist in the ecumenical activity of com-munities at all levels: It is very opportune that the various institutes of conse-crated life and societies of apostolic life establish, on the level of their central authorities, a delegate or a commis-sion charged with promoting and assisting their ecumenical engagement. The function of these delegates or commis-sions will be to encourage the ecumenical formation of all the members, aid the specific ecumenical formation of those who have particular offices, and act as advisors for ecu-menical affairs to the various general and local authorities of the institutes and societies, especially for initiating or carrying forward the activities described [in the Directory].7 This initiative will elicit considerable work on the part of major superiors, general councils, and chapters. The implications of this proposal will need to be developed in writing for the var-ious institutes. For this project the Directory will be useful. Elements of the Ecumenical Spirituality At the root of loyalty to Christ's will for the church and for church unity is the process of conversion, personal and institu-tional, s There are cultural dispositions that make the formation for such a conversion more or less easy. Of course, a prayerful open-ness to the Holy Spirit's action in the church, in other churches, and in fellow Christians is foundational. Because ecumenism with all its human and moral require-ments is rooted so profoundly in the mysterious working out of the providence of the Father, through the Son and the Spirit, it reaches into the depths of Christian spirituality. It calls for [a] "change of heart and holiness of life, along with public and private prayer for the unity of Christians. ¯ ." Those who identify deeply with Christ must identify with his prayer, and especially with his prayer for unity; . . ¯ those whose lives are marked by repentance will be espe-cially sensitive to the sinfulness of divisions and will pray for forgiveness and con, version. Those who seek holiness will be able to recognize its fruits also outside the visible boundaries of their own church.9 However, studies of seminary formation that were made by 852 Review for Religious diocesan ecumenical officers demonstrate that the most effective ecumenical formative experience is growing up in an interchurch family. Other elements that contributed most to the ecumenical dimension of priestly formation in the United States are (I) internship with an ecumenically effective priest, (2) ecumenically effective spiritual directors, (3) internships with an ecumenically informed non-Catholic minister, and (4) experiences in ecu-menically mixed clinical pastoral education programs. All of the seminaries report that the ecumenical dimension is fully inte-grated into the curriculum. The Directory will be helpful for eval-uating these claims. As sketched out by the council, the elements of Roman Catholic participation in the ecumenical movement include (1) the ecumenical dimension of spirituality, (2) theological dialogues leading to deeper understanding and toward full church unity, (3) collaboration in common witness and service, and (4) internal renewal of the members and structures of the church in response to ecumenical commitments. Attention needs to be given to each of these dimensions in initial and continuing formation and in the ongoing life of a religious community or parish. Ecumenical Spirituality for the Church An ecumenical spirituality is at the center of every aspect of the renewal of religious and lay life in the church. Without con-version to Christ's will for the church--in this case its visible unity and Roman Catholic contributions thereto--any theologi-cal, institutional, or educational progress towards full commu-nion will be superficial. If, on the other hand, Catholics are fully committed to all to whom they are bound by real, if imperfect, communion in baptism and to Christ's will for the visible unity of the church, then no setbacks on the road toward that unity will discourage them or make them complacent about divisions: The ecumenical movement is a grace of God, given by the Father in answer to the prayer of Jesus and the supplica-tion of the church inspired by the Holy Spirit. While it is carried out within the general mission of the church to unite humanity in Christ, its own specific field is the restoration of unity among Christians. Those who are baptized in the name of Christ are, by that very fact, called to commit themselves to the search for unity?° Noventber-Decevnber 1993 853 Coos ¯ The Ecumenical Vocation of Religious While individual religious and some communities have given considerable leadership to church reform in general and ecu-menism in particular, identity problems also affect the relationship of religious and the church. The Nygren/Ukeritis studies show that United States religious have "a stronger ecclesiology than Christology." ii This is not surprising, given the Roman Catholic The vast amount of ecumenical literature that has emerged in the last thi'rty years can help people renew their understandings of sacramental faith together. understanding of spirituality. I would understand this conclusion to mean that Christ is experienced more sacramentally, communally, and in mission than in indi-vidualistic or contemplative encounters. Such a focus on community can mean two things, as a resource for Catholic ecu-menical commitment. In one instance it can mean a more closed and sectarian approach, where primary religious identity and meaning come from the proximate religious community, its institution~ and ministry, rather than from Christ's wider will for the church and the world. Needless to say, this provides a weaker basis for ecu-menical conversion and formation. On the other hand,this ecclesiocen-tric spirituality could indicate that the experience of Christ is primarily in the call to community in the church, in the wider Christian society, and in the whole human family. At this stage in the reporting of the data, "ecclesiology" is yet to be defined. Be that as it may, the fully Catholic religious sees his or her sacramental life as yet defi-cient, short of the full communion of all Christians around the eucharistic table. The data from the same study shows religious to be "clear in their lowered respect for the magisterial authority of the church and the U.S. hierarchy in. general.''12 These words, negative as they sound, may however be interpreted as a critical fidelity to the Holy Spirit's call to the church for its renewal. A higher ideal for the church, its renewal, its leadership, and its eventual unity may not be so much "lowered respect" as elevated expectation and longer-range vision. The movement toward Christ's will for a united church is a critical fidelity for all of the churches involved in the ecumenical movement. 854 Review for Religious The vast amount of ecumenical literature that has emerged in 'the last thirty years can help people renew their understandings of sacramental faith together. The agreements on "justification by grace through faith" with the Lutherans, for example, provide an important contribution to faith development, self-under-standing, and spiritual direction?3 These documents will not reach their full fruitfulness unless they transform the prayer life, litur-gical celebration, and community understanding of the churches that produced them: Catholics should also give value to certain elements and goods, sources of spiritual life, which are found in other churches and ecclesial communities, and which belong to the one church of Christ: Holy Scripture, the sacraments and other sacred actibns, faith, hope, charity and other gifts of the Spirit. These goods have borne fruit for example in the mystical tradition of the Christian East and the spiritual treasures of the monastic life, in the worship and piety of Anglicans, in the Evangelical prayer and the diverse forms of Protestant spirituality. This appreciation should not remain merely theoreti-cal; in suitable particular conditions, it should be completed by the practical knowledge of other traditions of spiritual-ity. Therefore, sharing prayer and participating in some form of public worship or in devotional acts of other Christians can have a formative value when in accord with existing directives.14 Religious have a unique role in translating these intellectual con-tributions into popular piety. Indeed, several ecumenical books on the Blessed Virgin have already provided an invaluable resource, as can be noted by the many languages into which they have been translated,is The lives of ecumenical figures from Luther to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., from John WeslEy to C.S. Lewis, have enr.iched the spiritual reading of a generation and made the divisions both more clear and more subject to the healing power of the Holy Spirit. The modern availability of the spiritual classics from the full range of ecumenical sources, Catholic, Protestant, Orthodox, and Anglican has enabled all to be enriched. The living presence of fellow Christians with whom we share Christ--in a variety of traditions, but with a common will to be obedient to Christ's call to visible unity--is a rich complement to the liturgical, bio-graphical, and literary gifts we receive from one another. Like the charisms of the various religious communities and their November-December 1993 855 Gros ¯ The Ecumenical Vocation of Religlous founders, each church brings to a united church gifts we dare not lose as we reconcile our divisions. More particularly, giveR the legitimate variety of charisms and of the work of monasteries, institutes of consecrated life, and societies of apostolic life, it is very important that "all communities should participate in the life of the church. According to its individual character, each should make its own and foster in every possible way the enterprises and objectives of the church," including the "ecumenical field.''~6 In addition to personal and communal ecumenical spirituality, an "ecumenical hermeneutics of piety" will need to be developed as we move forward towards full communion?7 Indeed, as the "lineamenta" document for the 1994 synod notes, the baptismal consecration, beyond the narrow borders of the Roman Catholic Church, is the criterion for our communi-tarian outreach: As a reflection of church communion, the community is not a unit closed in.upon itself. Rather, it is open to the multiplicity of relationships with others which are provided by prayer, apostolic service, and collaboration with other members of the church, all of whom share in the same bap-tismal consecration and are called to holiness and mission in the variety and complementarity of each vocation. In its communitarian aspect, the role of the consecrated life is to offer to all members of the people of God the supreme value of the charity of Christ's disciples, lived in perseverance in fraternal communion.~8 Likewise, the agenda of the synod is very explicit about the spe.cificity of the spiritual calling: Those in the consecrated life have a special role in this ecu-menical task, in dialogue with the spiritual experiences akin to those of other churches and Christian confessions, in a spiritual ecumenism of conversion, prayer, dialogue and mutual edification, always in kedping with their proper iden-tity in the faith and their charism?9 Formation for an Ecumenical Spirituality While prayer and ecumenical openness are central to the ecu-menical vocation of Catholics, including the religious communi-ties, this spirituality also has specific intellectual content. It is a truism that one cannot be an effective ecumenist from any tradi- 856 Review for Religious tion without being firmly grounded in one's own faith and iden-tity. 2° However, 'the intellectual content of the ecumenical move-ment, including Roman Catholic principles and history within that movement, is an essential component for the formation of any ministry in the church, lay, clerical, or religious. In addition to the foundational principles enunciated in the conciliar and postconciliar docu-ments, 21 there has been a rich harvest of dialogue agreements.~ All of these texts are resources for spiritual and intellectual " renewal, requiring the same level of delib-erate systematic effort as did the early days of the biblical and liturgical renewal. Until leaders in our institutions, dioceses, and religious communities become well formed in these matters, their spirit will not be able to come alive in our Catholic life. Indeed, these dialogues and the researches and methodologies that stand behind them transform not only our appreciation of our own Catholic faith, but also of the changes necessary if our insti-tutions and practices are to be converted to reach the ideal we outline with our ecumenical partners. As was noted above, the curricula of seminaries have been transformed by the ecumenical movement. Those who receive their training in ecumenical con-sortia are probably the most sensitive to the ecumenical dimen-sion, but no one taking a Catholic scripture course can be ignorant of the full integration of Catholic and Protestant biblical schol-arship since the council. Similarly, any competent liturgy or sacramental-theology course will be informed by the vast literature that has come from the World Council's "Baptism, Eucharist, and Ministry" processz3 over the last decade and from the bilateral agreements of a wide variety of churches. Soteriology, spiritual development, and eccle-siology are all informed by the Lutheran/Catholic work on grace cited above. Ecclesiology will include not only the principles of Catholic ecumenism, but also the work done in the World Council and in various dialogues on such topics as the local and the uni-versal church, religious liberty and proselytism, and papal pri- One cannot be an effective ecumenist from any tradition without being firmly grounded in one's own faith and identity. November-December 1993 857 Coos * The Ecumenical Vocation of Relig4ous macy and infallibility. The Directory gives helpful detail for plan-ning both clerical and nonclerical religious formation.24 For the first time a section in this Directory sets the stage for the work of ecumenical formation among religious: While the concern for restoring Christian unity involves the whole church, clergy and laity alike, relig

Issue 44.2 of the Review for Religious, March/April 1985. ; Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" The Community Prayer of Religious Lay Associate Programs Volume 44 Number 2 ° March/April, 1985 R Evmw ~:OR R r:LIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. R~:vl~:w FOR RELiGiOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1985 by R EV~EW FOR R ELtG~OUS. Composed, printed and manufffctured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. Other countries: add $2.00 per year (postage). For subscription orders or change of address, write REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS: P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Editor Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Associate Editor Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. " Review Editor Richard A. Hill, S.J. Contributing Editor Jean Read Assistant Editor March/April, 1985 Volume 44 Number 2 Manuscripts, hooks for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REvl~:w voR RELIGtOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. " Back issues and reprints should be ordered from R EVlEW FOR R ELIG~OUS; Room 428; 3601 lAndeR Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Transformations in Religious Commitment .Patricia Wittberg, S. C. Sister Wittberg teaches sociology at The College of Woosier; Wooster, OH 44691. Her previous article in these pages was "Sociology and Religious Life: Call for a New Integration" (Novem-ber/ December, 1983). It has long been obvious that the post-Vatican II period of experimentation and renewal has been marked by .a precipitous decline in the numbers of religious men and women--reflected both in fewer entrants and in a massive exodus of current members. Some observers have attributed this to the perni-cious effects of the reforms themselves,t others to the failure 6f congregations to enact even more reforms, or to enact them more quickly.2 Which of these assessments is more accurate has recently resurfaced as a point of debate, for the shrinkage of communities and their increasing median age were specifically Cited by Pope John Paul II as reasons for the current study of American religious. In this article I hope to explore the role of group commitment mechanisms in the retention or loss of members in religious orders. Two concepts which will be useful in this endeavor are "intentional com-munity" and "association." An intentional community may be defined as a group of persons living together on a more or less permanent basis, who voluntarily surrender control Over some choices which are normally considered private (the focus and means of sexual expressio.n, choice and schedialing of. work, property ownership;and so forth) for the sake of establishing a whole new way of life. Intentional communities call for more commitment than do. other groups, demanding the investment of one's self as well as one's resources of time, money and talents. This investment, ideally, is not shared with other competing organizations, but belongs to the intentional community alone. In contrast, an association is a group of persons who have invested a certain 161 162 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 amount of their resources in the attainment of some common goal or Objec-tive, but who retain more personal autonomy and competing loyalties than would be possible in an intentional community.3 It is the contention of this article that some religious cong~regations--or at least a portion of their members--are moving from an intentional community model of group commitment to an associational one. This transition involves a fundamental change in the character of those religious orders that attempt it, and an examination of what this transformation entails is, therefore, essential. As an aid in our research, we might apply several very good sociological investigations of intentional communities such as the nineteenth-century Shakers and the Oneida Community, or the Bruderhof, a twentieth-century Hutterite group in New York.4 Which of these groups made similar transitions from intentional communities to associations? What happened to them after-ward? How did other intentional communities retain their original commitment structure, and what were the consequences of this retention? The Role of Common Ideology In her study of nine successful nineteenth-century communes (i.e. those that had lasted longer than one generation), Rosabeth Moss Kanter listed the problems that an intentional community must resolve in° order to survive. Steps have to be 'taken to insure that the work necessary for economic self-suf-ficiency (gr.owing food, making craft items for sale, and so forth) is done, that decisions are made to everyones' satisfaction, that close,.f~lfilling and non-ex-clusive relationships are established among members, that new members are recruited and socialized, and that individual uniqueness and autonomy are expressed in a way not destructive to the unity of the group. The self-renuncia-tion involved in these tasks raises the possibility that some individuals will be tempted to withdraw from the community if its demands get to be "too much." To avoid this danger, the members must be encouraged to share a common ideology or world myth that would make them want to subordinate their personal interests to those of the community as a whole.S Once internalized, the group's cosmic myth infuses all of a member's actions with meaning and directs them toward the common goals: I feel that if I have overcome my tendency to return an angry word when a Brother has spokento me, I have resisted the evil spirit. 1 have struck a blow for winning back part of the universe for God Almighty.6 In general, those who study intentional communities agree that groups which are able to maintain their common world view will survive, while those which fail to do so will disappear. The profusion of competing ideologies in twentieth-century America makes this especially difficu!t. As long as the .origi-nal founder of the group is ~alive, his or her charismatic presence, may be enough to maintain the cosmic myth. Howex~er, the founder may lose this charisma over the course of the years, or may die. Intentional communities that are successful in weathering the crisis of their founder's death or fall from Transformations in Religious Commitment / 163 grace are those which have evolved additional, supplementary techniques to foster their sustaining ideology. These usuall~ include common ritual and traditions, common work and recreational activities, boundary maintenance, self-renunciation and sacrifice. Common Ritual and Traditions Sociologists since Durkheim have recognized the importance of ritual celebrations in uniting a social group. As Kant'er expressed it: These rituals both express and reinforce jointly-held values, and represent ways ~f coming together as a group, of feeling closer to One another. For this reason, group rituals are often the most significant and important aspect of community life to members, for it is here that the higher, transcendent meaning of living in utopia is affirmed .7 Successful intentional communities evolved a set of rituals around almost every event: All important occasions in the Bruderhof are marked by a love meal .The dining room tables are arranged in a horseshoe, spread with white tablecloths and specially decorated; the dining room is lit by candles . Everyone gathers outside before the meal. TheY sing songs and walk into the room together.8 Pentecost. is especially important . A huge fire is lit which is the symbol of the burning up of the old and the hope of the coming of the new? These rituals ma~ enact the central aspects of the communal ideology, or they may have more seemingly trivial meanings. The important thing is that, by the regular and frequent group performance of the ritual, the underlying ideology which gives meaning to, the entirety of group life is reaffirmed. Togetherness in Work and Play It is also necessary that the members of an intentional community become emotionally attached to each other as though they were members of one family. Indeed, as Kanter remarks, family terminology such as "Brother" or "Sister" is Often deliberately used to refer to one's fellow group members,t° The development of this familial attachment is facilitated in many groups by requiring that everyone work together at the same limited number of tasks, rather than allowing members to leave daily for eight hours or' more of work outside the community. Common recreational activities also strengthen group family bonds: Perhaps the most memorable thing about the Bruderhof is the singing . There is a song for every mood, every event, every occasion. There are winter songs~ summer songs, morning songs, evening songs, folk songs, love sofi,,gs, birthday songs and wan-dering songs . The singing itself is beautiful and mowng, with effortless three- or four-part harmony on every song.t~ Eating the main meal, or all the meals, ~ogether can also serve a unifying purpose. As would be the case with any family, the more frequent and all-encom-passing the contact among group members, the more intense their mutual 164 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 attachment is likely to be. Intentional communities that are scattered over several locations must get together very often in order to keep their union alive, Zablocki remarks that the three American Bruderhofs both visited and inter-changed residents frequently, and also ran up large telephone bills in calls from one hof to another. A reverse side to this emphasis on family style unity ~equires that steps be taken to root out particularistic attachments which might otherwise lead to division within the group. Historically, monogamous marriage has been a barrier to the full unity of an intentional community, for it establishes compet-ing loyalties in the members. As both Kanter and Coser point out, intentional communities have usually encouraged either celibacy or promiscuity as alter-natives.~ 2 Another frequently used tactic is to discourage "too-close" friendships that shut out the rest of the members. Boundary Maintenance In addition to building up feelings ,of mutual attachment among members and ritualizing the group's unifying myth, care must also be taken to'isolate the community from those aspects of American society which embody competing ideas, attachments and values. Limitations are accordingly established on con-tacts with butsiders (including, especially, non-group parents and siblings of members). In the Bruderhof, most members rarely left the community, and even television watching was done infrequently:" ~ Great care is taken to see to it that the children never h.ear visitors, delivery men or other outsiders say a dirty word. Play with neighborhood children is discouraged. The adult members seldom retain membership in any outside organization, and at one time even their mail was censored and their newspapers and magazines were checked for objec-tionable material which was clipped out,t3 A sense of we/they is deliberately fostered, and the community is Often tbld that it represents a higher, purer way of life which must not be polluted by contact with the uninitiated. ~ An effective way of reinforcing the distinction between in-gro~]p and out-gi'oup is the wearing of distinctive clothes by community members?4 Still another is their development of a distinctive vocabulary to refer to particular activities or at'titudes?5 Finally, it is a good idea if the intentional community can become as "'institutionally complete'~ as possible, so that it depends very little on the outside world for goods and services. This is especially true in the area of education. Many intentional communities attempt to educate the children of their members in separate schools, in order to keep them from any polluting contact with the dutside world: Adult members who desire to add to their education may be forbidden to do so, or limited as to the institutions they are permitted to attend. The Death and Rebirth of the Self A powerful technique for internalizing the world view of an. intentional community is to die to one's old identity and to be "reborn" into anidentity Transformations in Religious Commitment conferred by the group. The Bruderhof novice is. isolated from his past and from his distinctive roles in the out-side world. A woman with psychological training was criticized every time she discussed Something in psychological terms: She was told that this was going to be a major barrier for her to overcome. She was also not allowed to have very much contact with a Sister who had gone to graduate school with her. A woman with an exceptionally beautiful voice was in the habit of bursting into song while sitting alone out of doors or at work. The community made her stop this in order to chastize her ego . Weakening the identity is furthered by the deprivation of choice . The commu-nity decides for [the member] what work he shall do. He has, at least after taking the novitiate, no money of his own. He must ask even for simple necessities like toothpa, ste =. or shampoo.!6 This loss of identity begins ~vith the new member's assumption of his/her guilt and individual worthlessness, often helped along by required self-criticism sessions. Once their old identities are renounced, the individuals receive their entire status and a new sense of worth through the group. A member may, in s6me groups, even receive a new name as a symbol of his/her'new self. With this new source of status and sense of self-worth; as Kanter states, one's self-esteem-depends on unswerving commitment to the norms and values of the gl'OUp.17 Sacrifice A final activity which can be used to deepen a group's commitment to its underlying ideology is to require some sort of sacrifice, When living out the intentional community's world view requires the renunciation of sex .or personal adornment and the adoption of a generally austere lifestyle, the value and sacredness of the cosmic myth is enhanced.18 Members actually find a great deal of joy in undergoing the privations, and often miss them when life becomes easier: That was one of my ti'oubles, giving up clothing. Certain skirts. One velvet skirt 1 had [laughing] oh, how 1 loved that velvet skirt! [Q~ Why did you have to give it up?] Well . we were made to feel., that you shouldn't want something particularly pretty and that looked well on you, that compliments you. This was pride . In order to belike God would wish you to be, you would give up these things. Well, 1 remember 1 struggled withthis and finally one day I was able to march over with a few of these things and my velvet skirt. And I just felt, when I expressed this to [the Housemothers] they rejoiced with me.~9 The Latent Danger in Successful Survival Mechanisms While the five~ mechanisms described above do strengthen the common ideology that had first drawn the members together, they can sometimes become so successful in themselves that the original vision becomes,secondary. The traumatic prospect of !osing all of one's friends may .be sufficient to persuade a doubting member to remain in the community even if he/she no longer ascribes to its worldview. The common pooling of economic goods may strongly discourage a member who has had no occasion for the personal use of money for years from leaving and having to find a self-supporting job.29 166 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 Others, who have not read a newspaper or watched television for several years, may remain in the community because they feel unable to, cope with the unfamiliar outside world.2! Thus, with the passage of time, it may be debatable whether members truly believe in the founder's worldview, or whether they remain because they fear what would happen to them if the~ left~ To avoid this loss of fervor, attempts may be made to rekindle the primal emotional commitment to the group's worldview. Many sociologists have pointed out, however, that unity based solely on emotional feelings is noto-riously ephemeral. Most groups tend either to evolve into a cornmunity based primarily on socially-integrative mechanisms, or else gradually to relax into a looser association in which "members regain virtually full personal autonomy and the commune becomes a cooperative venture in support of its members' individual self-interests. Many of these latter types last for two or three decades, but rarely are they able to produce a second generation."~2 Reflections and Applications The research quoted above has obvious implications for religious life. The integrating mechanisms used by the successful communal experiments strongly resemble certain practices followed, today and in the past; by many religious communities. Furthermore, sociologists who have studied intentional com-munities stress that such value-reinforcing techniques are indispensable if a group's unique world view is to be preserved in the face of the competing values of American pluralistic society. Religious congregations who wish to remain intentional communities without the aid of common ritual, the limita-tion of members' apostolates; boundary maintenance and sacrifice are doomed to failure. Use of these techniques, however, risks the usurpation of the cosmic myth itself. This paper began by contending that some religious communities are responding to this dilemma by abandoning the model of the intentional com-munity altogether and moving toward the less-demanding "associational" model of commitment. Individual religious today often work and live sepa-rately, and come together only periodically foi- prayer or discussion meetings. Whereas intentional religious communities had to adhere to geographical lim-itations in order to preserve their unity (with congregations restricting their members to a particular diocese or a given set of schools or hospitals), the looser associations might be based on some common interest (e.g., social justice, nuclear disarmament, or charismatic prayer forms.) Models for this might be groups such as Pax Christi or NARW, whose members are'.building links of mutual acquaintance that span the continent. Future historians of religious life may see this movement toward association as a radical redefinition, led by the Spirit, of what "religious life" means. Such redefinitions are not new to the Church. Each of the major traditions of religious spirituality--the Benedictine monastics in the fifth century, the mendicant orders in the twelfth, the Jesuits and the Daughters of Charity in the. Enlightenment era--are the Tkansformations in Religious Commitment results of similar communal adaptations to.societal changes not addressed by previous forms of religious life.23 In this way, the Holy Spirit moves and breathes in the Church, and the trend toward looser associations in place of intentional communities can simply reflect the results of prayerful discernment of God's call to a new dimension of service. As was the case in other times of redefinition, the new wine may not fit in the old wine skins. If a congregation chooses the associational model of commitment, therefore, it is necessary to reexamine what, if anything, the evangelical counsels would mean in this new context. Opening the group's membership to married couples may be feasible, since the competing loyalties of marriage would not be as detrimental to these new, less-demanding associations as they had been to the more intense forms of communal living. In fact, since the newer types of association will not provide the emrtional ties and feelings of familial attach-ment which the intentional community had, more and more of the original members may welcome the opportunity to marry and yet to remain in the congregation. The vow of poverty would then have to be reevaluated in the light of providing for members' children, or if members were expected to rent their own apartments and keep their own bank accounts. The congregation would also have a lessened mandate to require obedience from individuals who had competing job or family obligations. With their unifying worldview less carefully shielded from outside influences, members, might refuse to " comply with requests from the congregation, if these infringed excessively .upon their own freedom. There are several dangers in choosing a less intense type of communal commitment. The congregation will risk breaking up completely as its members are distracted by new loyalties: as Zablocki pointed out, few such organizations survive more than two or three decades:22 Also, Canon law (and the I.R.S. !) may not consider these new forms of community living to be tr~uly religious life. The legal ramifications of this have to be explored by both civil and canon lawyers. Loss of tax-exempt status may imperil some of an associa-tion's ministries; loss of canonical status may result in less support'from the institutional Church. Another extremely important question is whether or not an association of religious will be perceived as essentially different from groups devoted to transcendental meditation or saving the whales. Potential members may well question why they shouldbother joining at all, should the association cease to present a distinctive witness to the rest of American society. Finally, an association will not serve as the sole, or even principal, provider of the affilia-tive needs of many of its members: as mentioned above, combining marriage and membership may be the more desired option. For a woman religious over forty, hrwever, the "freedom" of association members to marry may seem a cruel joke in a society where an unbalanced sex ratio and the attraction of men to youngei~ women renders the likelihood of her marriage extremely improba-ble. 24 To compensate for the emotional closeness which her former intentional community can no longer offer her in its new associational form, such women 161~ / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 may find themselves clinging to family members for support, or, :increasingly, isolated and alone, In the face of the dangers of associational commitment, many religious may feel that there is still a place for the intentional community lifestyle in providing ministry and witness in the Church. If the research on previous intentional communities is to be believed, however, it is impossible to maintain such a lifestyle without integrating practices to strengthen the members' com-mitment. Religious orders that elect to retain or readopt the traditionM prac-tices which had so effectively united pre-Vatican communities will face their own set of dangers. The .tendency, mentioned in the preceding section, for these practices to become sufficient in themselves, and to displace the ideals they were originally designed to protect: will still exist. It was precisely this displacement, of course, which had sparked the post-Vatican movements to return to the spirituality of one's founder in the first place. In addition, prac-tices such as isolation from the outside world and self-renunciation rituals have become suspected of destroying members' personalities and mental health. Communities adopting or retaining these techniques will have to deal with charges that they are fostering immaturity, personal dependency, and other psychological ills.25 A Third Alternative Religious life appears to be trapped between the Scylla of a psychologically-destructive intentional community which tends to become an end in itself, and the Charybdis of an ultimately unstable and gradually co-opted association. A third alternative, however, may be possible. Efforts could be made to use the insights of the research quoted here in constructing integrative mechanisms more adapted to late twentieth-century American culture, taking steps to insure that these mechanisms remain valued means to maintain the founder's char-ism-- absolutely necessary in a group of s6cia!ly dependent human beings, but open to change and replacement lest they become ends in themselves. A congregation at.tempting this alternative would first of all sponsor workshops, seminars and weekends (parallel to the psychologically-oriented conferences on mid,life crisis, burnout, and so forth) which would sensitize its members to' the fundamental necessity of ritual, "common times" of togetherness, and other techniques of group unification and identity affirmation. Particularly ~successful techniques developed or discovered by onegroup might be shared with other groups within or outside the congregation. Policies would be enacted ¯ .by the General Chapter requiring that a certain minimal number of these practices be chosen and implemented by members living in a local house, a city or a region. The leadership of the congregation would need to be empowered to call to accountability those members who persist in isolating themselves from the community. The dilemma of how to avoid the disintegrating effects of diversified minis, tries--while keeping their benefits of individual personal growth and flexible T~ansformations in Religious Commitment response to social needs--would also have to be faced. Once the membership and leadership of a congregation were sensitized to the pressures and competing loyalties that inevitably devolve upon any member who accepts a remote or a nontraditional ministerial position, steps could be taken to minimize these effects. The member might be required to return to the congregation during the summer, for example, to engage in the work onlyfor a limited number of years, or to live with congregational members even if not working with them. The role of sacrifice in uniting a community may also provide possibilities for creative~exploration. Periods of congregational service, whether in leadership or in supporting roles, might be one form of sacrifice; budgetary cutbacks to support Some congregational work among the poor might be another. In any event, religious congregations which wish to remain intentional communities, and .yet avoid the traps into which such communities have fallen in the past, must develop the sociological sophistication to choose the integrating mecha-nisms most suited to their needs and those of their members. Individuals must be encouraged to study and research these techniques; degree programs and summer institutes need to be established to make this possible. Conclusion The dichotomy between intentional community and association which has been developed in this paper marks, in reality, two poles of a continuum along which' most religious communities currently exist. In the ongoing process of moving back and forth between these poles, not all bfa congregation's members are likely to agree, either on the degree of intentional community that remains appropriate for their charism and ministry, or on the customs and practices to be used in achieving it. Communities may even.decide to divide, formally or informally, into subgroups according to the intensity and style of the integrating practices they desire. Wherever on the contihuum~a congregation ultimately finds itself, to the extent that elements of an intentional community are pres-ent, mechanisms will have to be developed in order to safeguard its unity against outside pressures. To the extent that the group resembles an association, the problem of reconciling the affiliative and emotional needs of the individuals with continuing and active membership in the congregation will have to be faced. There is undoubtedly room in the American church for varieties of religious life which exhibit many different degrees of communal or associational com- " mitment. This article has argued, however, that it is extremely dangerous for the ministerial effectiveness and the very existence' of a congregation not to recognize and choose freely the type of commitment proper to its founder's charism in the late twentieth-century United States. Only by realizing and acknowledging the strength~ and weaknesses inherent in the type of commit-ment they have chosen--which presupposes that they know which one it is---can the strengths be emphasized and the weaknesses minimized. This paper is a call for the integration of previously ignored sociological insights 170 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 into the self-study of American religious communities. For some, their very survival may depend on it. NOTES ~James Hitchcock, ~Vocations Holding Up in Traditional Communities" in The Catholic Uni- ¯ verse Bulletin, Cleveland, July 6, 1984, p. 10. * 2Sara Harris, The Sister: The Changing Role of the American Nun (N.Y.: .Bobbs Merrill, 1972), pp. 137-8. 3Benjamin Zablocki, Alienation and Charisma (N.Y.: Free Press, 1980), Chapter 6. 4Sources for my informa[ion on these groups include the following: Rosabeth Moss Kanter, Commitment and Community (Cambridge, MA: Ha~rvard University Press, 1972), Lewis A. Coser, Greedy Institutions (N.Y.: Free Press, 1974), and Benjamin Zablocki, The Joyful Com-munity (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1980). ~Bennett M. Berger, The Survival of a Counterculture (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1981), p. 124. 6Zablocki, p. 29. 7Kanter, p. 47. 8Zablocki, p. 39. 9Zabl~cki, p. 52. 10Kanter, p. 46. tlZablocki, p. 47. t2Kanter~ p. 44; Coser, p. 31. ~3Zablocki, p. 172. t4Kanter, p. 84; Zablocki, pp. 129-30. ~Kanter, p. 84; Zablocki, p. 259 ~6Zablocki, p. 250. tTKanter, p. 103. ~SKanter, p. 76. tgZablocki, p. 185. 20Kanter, p.80; Zablocki, p. 281. 2tZablocki, pp. 282-3. 22Zablocki, Alienation and Charisma, p. 289. S¢ also Herbert Schmalenbach, "The Social Category of Communion." 2JJoan Chittister;~ O.S.B., Women, Ministry and the Church (Ramsey, N J: Paulist Press, 1983) ¯ p. 28. 24Tish Sommers, "The Compounding Impact of Age on Sex,, in Ovil Rights Digest, Fall, 1974, pp. 2-9: ~sZablocki, Alienation "and Charisma, p. 325. Jonah and the Vine M. Basil Pennington, 0 C. S. 0 No stranger to these pages, Father Pennington continues to reside and write in St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, MA 01562. The nineteenth century was a great time for religious life. At its opening, empty and ruined cloisters stood everywhere in Europe, the fruit of the Pro-test~ nt Reformation and the French Revolution. By the end of the century not only had many of these ruins" been restored with the renewal of the ancient monastic and religious orders but many new religious institutes had come into being: With the opening of the twentieth century these institutes were stretching out to all parts of the world calling the whole human family to spiritual rebirth and renewal. Then suddenly their spirit ~ seemed to really catch on, and the King of Nineveh rose from° his throne and called all to renewal--good Pope John called down the Holy Spirit in a new Pentecost for all humankind. It was disconcerting. Not only had the institution that was to be called to renewal taki~h the lead, but the Spirit seemed to know no bounds. There was a great spiritual renewal among the other religions of the world, and soon spiritual masters from Hinduism and Buddhism were within what we once considered our enclave, calling forth our young men and women, our.prospective members. ¯ The Lord had given us our consoling vine. It shot up overnight. Remember the burgeoning novitiates after the Second World War, the great novitiate buildings we put up in the fifties and sixties--the ones that stand empty now or serve as .conference centers, or which our Buddhist and Hindu brothers and sisters have taken off our hands? Our vine was suddenly cut down. And we sir on our hill, in our little shelter (our new social security benefits?) and gnash our teeth, or we try to keep on doing what we were doing before, with little of the means and less of the fruit, because we are always more and more out-of-date. ¯ Well, not all of us, maybe, but how many of t~s? 171 172 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 One of the things we can note in the closing lines, of the Book of Jonah: as God calls him to universal compassion there is in him no breath of conversion. He who had called others--so successfully to conversion, himself will not convert. He sits there in his bitterness. We who have so successfully called the Church and the human family to spiritual renewal have we ourselves ~heeded the call of the Council to true spiritual renewal? Or have we just tried some "adaptations" and .now in our bitterness blame them for our present plight. The publication of the new Code of Canon Law offers us an opportunity to be again confronted, rather directly and concisely, by the message of the Second Vatican Council: a call to religious to be religious. (Religious comes from the latin word: religo, to be bound again bound again to God, most intimately.) The opening canon in the section on religious tells us that our life is for those "who follow Christ more closely under the action of the Holy Spirit"; it is a life ."totally dedicated to God who is loved most of all . dedic~ited to his honor, the upbuilding of the Church and the salvation of the world" (Canon 573). It is "through charity to which the counsels lead that [we] are joined to the Church and its mystery in a special way" (Canon 573). When the code comes to speak of the obligations of religious it states first th'at "religious are to have as their highest rule of life the following of Christ as proposed in the Gospel" (.Canon 662). Then it goes on to state that "contem-plation of divine things and assiduous union with God in prayer is to be the first and foremost duty of all ~religious" (Canon 66.3). When it comes to speak about novitiate formation, it says not only that "the novices are to be led to cultivate human and Christian virtues . to be prepared to cultivate the worship of God in the Sacred Liturgy . to be instructed to read and meditate on the Sacred Scriptures" but also "to be instructed to contemplate the mystery of salvation" (Canon 652): Conte~mplative union with God is for all religious, and novices are to be effectively taught how to open their lives to the contemplative dimension of prayer and life. There was a very interesting developmen~ at the Second Vatican Council (P, ope Paul insisted constantly that the'Code of Canon Law is to be but the practical implementation of what the Spirit had said to us in the Council--a ¯ call to constant renewal). At the first session a long treatise on religious life was offered to the Council Fathers, some one hundred thirty pages. The commission was told to boil it down. They returned to the second session~with thirty five pa, ges. Again, the word was to boil it down. At the third session the Fathers found at their places a brief document of nineteen propositions, very much what we have, with a couple of added paragraphs on monastic life. This,new schema had a very long fo0tnote--almost half as long as the whole text. In this footnote the writers explained that the threefold distinction in regard to religious life that had come into common use from the teaching of Aquinas and was found even in Pius Xll's Humani generis, namely active, contemplativ~e, and Jonah and the Vine / 173 mixed, was not to be retained. There could be no such thing as a simply active religious life. All religious, by the very nature of religious consecration through religious profession, were called to contemplative union with God. Some were. to:be "mere" contemplatives." Others were called to pass on the fruits of their contemplation in apostolic ministry. This very significant shift, a real call to renewal, has been largely~ missed. The code spells it out very clearly. Will we hear? We can continue to sit apart in our pathetic little structures and bewail the fact that no one is paying any attention to us any longer, and leave renewal to ,:the laity, the hierarchy, and the clergy--and to the other religions! We can watch creative, new !ay ministries take on our former missions--in itself not a ¯ bad thing at all. We can watch our most promising youth, who really want to do something to make a difference in a world that is hell-bent on global destruction, respond to the call of the great swamis and roshis who practice what they preach, and of the new prophets who have caught the universalist vision and call for global.unification--perhapsnot such a good thing. But the reality of it all is that we, the sons and daughters of the Book, have, in the intimate revelation of God in Christ and in the empowerment of the sacred tradition and the sacramental life, so much more to bring to the human family. It will only I~e when we teach the fullness of the call of the Gospel, so powerfully re-enunciated in the Second Vatican Council, and actually live what we teach, that we will be credible and effective and attractive--in the right sense of that w.ord--again; The great progenitors of the Second Vatican Coun-cil were, first, John Henry Cardinal Newman, who reminded us that doctrine-- and all else in a living Church--keeps on developing. Hence, we cannot stop with Vatican II, but before we advance beyond it, we have at least to get what it has given us. Can we honestly say we have really absorbed the teaching of the documents of Vatican I19. Certainly I can't, and I have been working with them steadily for over twenty years! Second was Teilhard de Chardin, whose call was ~to a new level of consciousness that integrated the whole of creation, centering all in the heart of Christ; in the awesome power of Divine Love that was poured out in our hearts in the Holy Spirit who groans within us to be free to do mighty things in and through us: things of prayer and worship, things of empowerment and life. Have we heard Newman and Chardin? Are we stretching to keep develop-ing, and expanding our loving concern and our creative vision to the whole of. the human project, the divine creative project? Sad to say, not a few monasteries, not a few religious'institutes look a bit like Jonah on his hill, under his little structure, with his wilted vine lying prone across the opening. Elderly monks and religious seem to be saying: "Enough! I won't begin anew. I have done enough. Let it die with me. After all my years ¯ of service they rush on to new things and take no notice of all I have done." Maybe the younger religious don't realize it, but the charism of the com-munity, that precious gift to the Church and the human family, is incarnate in 174 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 the seniors. However, can we blame the younger ones (who are often all too few or even non-existent), those in whom the call to share this same charism is awakening,if they do not see it when the seniors allow it to be hidden under the bushels of structures and attitudes that do not let its light shine forth? The Second Vatican Council, or rather the Holy Spirit speaking through the council, asked us to bring this precious heritage into confluence, or we might even say confrrntation, with the signs of the times. Sure, that is going to cause upheaval or at least unrest and some tension. But what is the alternative? To sit with Jonah in our shack and groan? Renewal .is going on among the laity. They are taking on many of the tasks and missions that ~religious have done so well. And perhaps they are even doing them more effectively in a secular world. Renewal is going on among the Eastern religions and their renewed "religious," the swamis and gurus and roshis, seem to be more effectively serving, and attracting to their ranks, the fine young people who used to enter our novitiates. (How often when standing listening to an impressive young TM teacher or an EST seminar leader or a "Moonie" who has just earned his PhD at Harvard, have I thought to myself: this young man would surely have been a Jesuit in the pre-Vatican II days.) ~ Are we going to watch all this as passive spectators, cheering it on, or worse, lamenting over it? Or are we going to be open to the spirit of Newman and Chardin, adapted to our own particular charism, a priceless gift of God to the Church, and take full part in the tremendous spiritual renewal of our times which we in,great part are responsible for inaugurating? Even if there is a wonderful spiritual renewal taking place in many corners of our society and our globe, they are still just corners. Depressing, competi-tive, greedy materialism is the rampant reality. Millions and millions still are not in touch with the spiritual dimension of their being, and know only ultimate frustration. There is plenty of work for us all. The new code says our consecrated life is to be "an outstanding sign in the Church--and beyond--foretelling the heavenly glory" (Canon 573)--giving to the human person something big enough to call him or her forth fully, and to make life truly worthwhile. This is our call. And so--what now? Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries": The Role of Provincial Superiors Today Gerald A. Arbuckle, S.M. Father Arbuckle has become a more frequent and influential contributor to our pages of late. The present article continues his study of government in religious communities considered under particular aspects. His earlier study, ~General Government: Its Leadership Role Today" appeared in the November/December issue of 1984. Himself a member of his congregation's General Administration, Father Arbuckle resides, and may be addressed, at their headquarters: Padri Maristi; Via Alessandro Poerio 63; 00152 Roma, Italy. ~nnovation is at the heart of survival and growth. Without innovation in response to rapidly changing conditions, human groups stagnate and die. This is true of business firms, of local and national economies. It is also true of religious ~ongregations, of provinces within the congregations.l Religious exist to serve the Church. They are to be concerned not just for the survival of their own province and congregation, but in particular they are primarily oriented to spearhead pastoral and spiritual growth within the Church. They are to be specialists in innovation: "Their whole lives are dedi-cated to God's service." Religious are to show forth "boldness of initiatives."2 In quite expressive language, the document Mutuae Relationes emphatically insists on the innovative role. of religious:~ there is need "to devise new, inge-nious, and courageous ecclesial experimrnts under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit . A responsiveness rich in creative initiative is eminently compatible with the charismatic nature of the religious life."3 Innovation is the generation, acceptance, and implementation of new ideas, pastoral methods or servibes, whatever can help develop within ourselves and in others the kingdom of God. Application and implementation are at the core of this definition; it involves the ability to change or to adapt.4 Easy enough to define innovation. But how does innovation take place? What role do major superiors, especially provincials, have in stimulating change? 175 176 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 This paper is an attempt to answer these questions. I propose to approach this key topic by: -summarizing recent management studies on how innovation takes place; -summarizing relevant research conclusions of applied anthropology; -applying these insights to the role of provincials within religious congre-gations. I believe provincials today face challenges,that their predecessors rarely confronted prior to Vatican II. They are called to be change-agents within their congregations; in fact, I believe the future of their congregations might well be said to rest in their hands. But, through no fault of their own, they often do not know what to do. If they do know what to do, they often do not know how to go about stimulating innovation. Japanese and American Business Cultures During the world's tough economic years after 1978, the picture on either side of the Pacific Ocean was remarkably different: soup kitchens in Detroit contrasted vividly with an apparent freedom from economic depression in Japan, where business firms exported more and mo?e the things that Ameri-cans made once upon a time. Some people almost in a fit of hysteria have called for more protectionism against the "Japanese m~nace." Saner minds, however, do not blame the Japanese or the tardiness of the American govern-ment to build trade barriers, but they blame the limitations of America's managerial culture.5 Recently I noticed a bank advertisement in O'Hare air-port, Chicago, which stated: "In Chicago, nothing takes off faster than a Good Idea." This is not as accurate as it should be, simply because the Ameri-can culture at large, and the management sub-c.ulture, are not as conducive and supportive of innovation as is the Japanese cultural system. Several man-agement experts, therefore, have concentrated their research not so much on the psychology of industry or business management, but on the anthropology of culture and culture change in relation to business action.6 By culture we mean that network of common meanings ~and values that is deeply rooted in the corisciousnessiunconsciousness of a group of people. This network gives life to distinctive structures and institutions, myths and symbols. The symbols of a people have many.meanings that are deeply real to those who share them; they give people a sense of identity, security, purpose. But since they are derived so much more from the heart than the head they are difficult for outsiders to grasp and describe. What are the significant differences b~tween the two business cultures? There are two key variables the individual or potential innovator and the group--and both are given different emphases in the two cultures. Both cul-tures stress the importance of change-agents or innova!ors, that is of people who are gifted with the "art of anticipating the need for, and of leading, productive change."7 In Japanese culture, innovators evoke change in and through the harmonious support and active participation of the ~roup. L~yalty Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 177 to one's group is a most respected personal attribute. The culture emphasizes harmony not for the purposes of maintaining the status quo but for innovation. Group leaders know this and hence concentrate less on the task of production than on thee growth of good relations, morale, value~ that support .innovators within"the group. The innovators themselves do not seek to stand outside the group; they recognize that only through the active support and participation of the group itself will the ideas be implemented) But in Western business culture, reflecting the broader culture of the society, group leaders tend to stress the productive task to the neglect, of group mainte-nance activities. Theoretically there is an assent to the need for building a supportive innovative culture, but "American managers don't quite realize that what they are creating requires a lot of energy and attention from them to sustain."9 The Western culture, and in particular the American way of life, gives vigorous support and status to independence, to being "a rugged individualist." The American West may have been built by thousands of"rugged individuals spread over the vast frontier. But millions of lone rangers employed under a few thousand cor~porate roofs may not much longer prove workable."~° In this system the rugged individual, the would-be innovator or change agent, must struggle and battle alone to prove the. value .of his or her insight. The group is assumed to have what .really adds up to a negative or opposition, role. The individual, as it were, stands outside the .group; the group is not assumed to have any substantial role in helping to stimulate the innovative idea or in participating in .its implementation. In the Japanese culture the innovative idea can tr.uly be said to be the group's, though articulated at first by a particular person; .in American, or Western cultures in general, that is not the case. The consequence for Western economies of course is unfortunate. It generally takes an extraordinarily tough individual to sustain his or her enthusiasm in the face of constant passive or open opposition. Little wonder that managerial researchers complain about the deadening restraints on innovation in Western business cultures. The firms that are notably successful today in America are precisely those where the leadership recognizes that the primary task is to clarify, articulate and insist on key values: quality goods and setA, ices,: the participation of all employees in, discovering .and supporting people who have new ideas for the maintenance of quality. This task of leadership is a tough assignment. If it fails, then the business culture becomes stagnant, oppressive of innovators and new ideas.~ So, if American (and Western) businesses are to become truly competi-tive. with, Japanese enterprises, their leaders must become and remain cultur~al revolutionaries. Then the advertisement at O'Hare airport will be accurate! Innovation and Innovators: ~nsights of Applied Anthropology . Anthropologists in general have the reputation of always aiming to preserve what is traditional. If they do take that approach, it is because the' general thrUst of socio-economic development programs, particularly in Third World 1711 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 countries, has been in the direction of what an expert on fisheries once called "bulldozing the tropics into civilization.''~2 In the 1960s and 1970s (to a less extent) it was rare indeed for development experts to ~ake into account the fact that people are human beings and also have distinctive cultures.,The so-called experts descended as it were from on high with the "good news of develop-ment." The people had to listen "with gratitude," do what they were told and rbecome "rich and good" just like Westerners! Since so many projects have failed or are failing, there is a greater openness to turn to anthropologists to help uncover why "the good news" became "bad news," The ignorance of.the experts might have been bliss for them, but their lack of wisdom has meant immense suffering for the people, The following general conclusions have emerged from the study of anthro-pologists into the success or otherwise of development projects: 1. Changes will succeed only if they are in response to felt needs of the people. The discovery of what in fact are the real felt needs of a group of people is a long and difficult task. It is so easy for the would-be innovator to impose his own needs on people who for the sake of peace agree. I came across an example of two American volunteer development workers on a South Pacific island, who were worried by the fact that the ladies of the village had to go down a rough slope to a river to do the washing~ So, they imported cement, "convinced" the ladies that the use of the village washing tubs would be far more convenient. After the tubs had been built, the good ladies used them for one day and back they went to the river. The volunteers were annoyed, but humble enough to ask why the tubs were not used: "We like togossip about the men; If you wash at the tubs, the men will hear. Also, our backs are sore from standing at the tubs. We like to squat when we do the washing!" In order tO obtain the real felt needs, there must be lengthy and tiring dialogue based on the willingness to learn on all sides, considerable questioning and active listening by the change-agent. 2. Innovative leadership must be encouraged to emerge from within the group and be supported by the group. A girl was taken from a Fijian village and trained in the capital city in how to improve the nutrition quality of village cooking. She went .back full of enthusiasm; within a few days she was back to the old style of cooking. Why? No one in the capital thought it important to work with villagers on the spot to heip them become accepting of change and Supportive of the local innovator. The experts expected the impossible of one person. This is a critical point. Innovators or change agents are "the right people in the right place at theright time."~3 The right people are the would-be innovators because they have ideas that look beyond the established ways of doing things. By the right places we mean that the people who have to be motivated to accept the ideas are willing in fact to be motivated and to participate in implementing Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 1"/9 the ideas. The would-be innovator and the group are not to be in opposition to each other, but are to be integrated.into a team. The task of the main leader or ~main innovator--often one who holds an official position, e.g. government officer, town mayor, village chief--is precisely to help create space for individ- ' uals to "get the,power to experiment, to create, to develop to test--to inno-vate." t4 This means that a tremendous amount of time and energy must go into disposing the group to be open to change, to be positively accepting of the innovator. There is no short cut! The more the group is encouraged to become the agent of its own growth, the more in fact it will b~ sensitive to the need for the right type of innovators. Would-be innovators tend to.fall into two broad types: those who are basi-cally loners, uninterested in the group, possibly deeply bitter about being rejected by the group. Unless they can get over their spirit of excessive individ- - ualism, such people, because of personal reasons and/or the neglect by the group, can obstruct growth. There are others; however, who have been pushed to the margins of the group's life, but who still are deeply attached to the welfare of the group and who in their own way sorrow for the sense of blind conservatism and fatalism that the group expresses. These are the people that should be very specially spotted and encouraged by the main change-agent or change-catalyst. 3. Deyelopment projects are more readily successful, if there is maximum delegation and involvement within small groups. For example, I found credit unions far more successful than large-scale business co-operatives in Fiji, because the former were village-peopled based, but the latter were firmly directed from the capital city by government officials. The people felt the credit unions .were theirs; they "owned them" by participating daily in" credit union affairs, their management, direction. But, this could be done only because credit .union values of cooperation and honesty were con-stantly articulated by the official educational change-agems. And the people were called to the accountable by their own leaders on.the basis of these values. ~ 4. The innovators must not move faster than the group. The innovator can be so far out front that the people lose confidence in the project. The innovator in this case is equivalently' demanding culture changes that require too many risks for the people; identity and security are endangered. So, the people retreat to old and familiar values 'and customs. They cannot be blamed for this. They have everything to lose, but the insensitive innovator with his skills and status may have little to lose. By way of summary, there are three indisputable research conclusions: people definitely resist cultural .changes that appear to threaten their basic securities; they resist changes they do not understand and they resist changes that are being forced oti them.~6 But these conclusions all sound so logical, so obvious. Why are they so 180 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 frequently ignored, in practi~ce by even the most educated and intelligent'of people? I can pinpoint four reasons in particular. First, it is not easy for many of us to realize that all change involves in one way or another culture change, that is change in values, new security systems, and more. And culture change basically is very slow. We belong to a culture that has come to assume instant answers to instant problems! It is difficult for. us.to grasp the reality that the innovation process is a combination of technical and human or cultural factors, rather than being a purely technical or mechan-ical matter. The would-be innovator requires considerable patience and open-ness to learn just how change takes place. o Secondly, leadership is so often confused, with the use of authority. It is assumed that change can take place simply by command.For example, it was decided in the mid-1940s that Fijians should have in their villages hygenic toilets of a simple design. The word went out from London, eventually reach-ing the district British officers in rural Fiji. The fine toilets were built .by the villagers, under British direction, but not used! Officials "forgot" to involve the .villagers in a decision that concerned them. True leadership aims to evoke participation. This is-often more important than what is visibly done. Thirdly, no matter how intelligent and educated the innovator may be, if he is insensitive to the dignity of the people the project will fail. People yearn to grow as people through participation in all that concerns their lives. If they are refused the chance to participate, or if they sense the innovator is out to manipulate them by going through the motions of participation, then they will withdraw from involvement and become passiveand angry observers. When I was researching in Fiji into village development, I was frequently told by colonial officials that "Fijians simply cannot handle their own affairs.': The tragedy is that the people had been told this so often that many had come to believe it. When the credit union movement was brought to Fiji by an Ameri-can Jesuit, Marion Ganey, the people showed that the colonial officials were wrong. The people discovered that they could handle their own affairs. A major factor in this movement of self-growth for the people was the deep faith that the Jesuit expressed in the people and their potential. One Fijian in village summed up what this meant for him: "When he comes into the village, even though he cannot speak our language, we feel ten feet taller and ten .years younger!" Respect for people must spring not from fine words, but from ~the deep conviction in the heart. People sense whether it is there or not. Fourthly, would-be change-agents can fall into what really is culture shock. People when confronted with a culture that is different from their own can feel so lost that they really cannot cope. They lose all sense of judgment and may well begin by acting in a thoroughly authoritarian manner in order to cope. In brief, the findings of contemporary managerial and applied anthropology studies are the same. Innovation is the key to survival and growth. Innovation flourishes in. those cultures in which innovators and people are positively interacting and participating together in implementing the new, ideas. No mat-ter what position the potential innovator holds, e.g. manager, village chief, Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries"/ 181 government officer, church official, member of a group, to be ultimately effec-tive he or she must be imbued with a philosophy of deep respect for the .potential of the people to be masters of their own growth. As George Foster notes: ''The ethic of helping people change their culture includes knowing what the culture is. what its processes of change are. It is ~not enough to be a competent technician, morally fortified with the unquestioned assumptions of goodness of one's profession . The ethic irivolves restraint and caution in missionary zeal. It means. [being] careful not to plan for people, but to work with them in searching for realistic answers to their problems . .It means learning to be humble, to be willing to learn . It means sympathy and tolerance . It means a genuine and unselfish desire to help., in a realistic way based on full understanding of the nature of culture."17 The warning of the wise Lao-tzu centuries ago remains universally true: "As for the best leaders, the people do not notice their existence. The next best, the people .honor and praise. The next, thepeople fear; and the next, the people hat~ . When the best leader's work is done the people~say, 'We did it ourselves.'" Challenges Confronting Contemporary Provincials The Church's culture, prior to Vatican II, was highly structured and open to little change at any level. Its mission was clear and its pastoral methods were considered to be universally validono matter what culture was being evangelized. Religious congregations reflected, this type of culture. Major superiors gave clear commands, reminding people of the importance tq maintain the rules of the community. They commanded; subjects were expected to obey. Certainly they did not expect to be consulted. It was assumed that superiors knew what was right, what God wanted. But with Vatican II superiors and their fellow "religious were reminded that together they hadto s~arch to discover what God was asking of them. Pastoral methods that were once valid could no longer be considered so in a world subject to chronic change. These new emphases and values undermined t.he security and identity of the old religious-life culture. Questions replaced answers; clear and simple command~ gave way to process. Sole authority yielded to rule by committee. We know well the malaise and confusion that hit congregations and individual religious.~a The role of the contemporary provincial is an unenviable one. How can a provincial stimulate a province to accept a culture in which the religious are open to change, effectively willing to participate in change, are supportive of innovation and innovators? In order to understand the complex nature of this challenge, I will construct a "typical contemporary .province culture." I will then summarize various possible reactions on the part of~a provincial when faced with such a culture. Since we are dealing with a cultural construct or type or model, it is inevitable that there will be oversimplifications, imprecisions. Readers can make their own additions or subtractions. A Typical Province Culture -Membership is aging; few, if any, recruits. -A significant number of religious were trained under the pre-Vatican 1112 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 model in which creativity and innovation were discouraged. -A significant percentage of religious are distressed, disoriented, by the theological, pastoral and spiritual emphases following~Vatican II. -The province, in whole or in part, denies that there are real manpower crises which demand positive planning and changes. -Houses are closed; pastoral works put aside, not because of creative, forward~looking pastoral planning, but because the province has run out of manpower resources. -A significant percentage of the province is spiritually uninspired and uninspiring. -Small groups of reiigious or individuals are marginalized because of their innovative pastoral ideas and practices, or because they ask out of deep love for the Church andfor the congregation challenging questions relat-ing to renewal, or because their radical religious lifestyles are uncomfort-able. to the power forces in the province.~9 -Religious strongly support decentralization of authority and personal freedom, but do not support a corresponding accountability to major superiors and to the province. In this cultural model of course there are values and practices that are in conflict with each other. In fact, it can happen tha~ in this model many religious find little of substance that they have in common. What happens when a newly elected provincial is confronted with a province'that approximates this type? He can react in a culture-shock manner or accept the reality in an ~understanding way and, adopting the operational principles that should guide any would-be change-agent (described above), proceed to help cultivate a religious-life culture that is innovative, effectively open to change, a culture in which religious support innovation and partiCipa~te in its implementation. A brief look first at possible models of culture-shock reactions of the new provincial. Again, it is important to note that we are constructing models; it is necessary to indicate emphases rather than rounded descriptions. ' 1. The Minister Provincial: one who concentrates almost exclusively on the welfare of the individual religious; planning and animation are neglected. 2. The Administrator Provincial: one who keeps to his office desk, involv-ing himself as far as possible in paper work; ministering and animation are neglected. 3. The Preacher Provincial: one who concentrates on preaching about the need for change; planning and ministering are avoided. He has an impact on no one. 4. The Laissez-faire Provincial: he opts out of all key functions. He assumes that kind words to all will produce lasting peace. Others assert leadership by default, but it is a leadership that builds up power for some strong sections of the provinre to the detriment of weaker power ~blocks. Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 183 5. The Planner Provincial'. this is the dreamer who devises all kinds of plans for change, but avoids the nitty-gritty of organizing the imple-mentation of the plans, the hard grind of administration and the demanding task of animation and ministering to the religious of the province. 6. The Authoritarian Provinciak this is the one who assumes he can min-ister to the religious, plan, administer and animate allby himself. Refus-ing to dialogue or to delegate, he believes "it is time that religious obeyed, put their heads down and got on with the job." He may set up a variety of committees, not to hear what they say, but to get things done that he decides should be done. Given the pressures on a provincial today, we must not be surprised:if some behave in ways that approximate to one or other of these models. So great can ¯ culture-shock be that individuals may not consciously be aware of why they react in these ways. We are now in a better position to look at objectively what the functions of a provincial are today, how he or she should act in a reasoned way when confronted with the task of fostering a culture supportive of innovation. The Provincial as a Cultural Change-Agent Leadership has to do with meeting needs. Religious need a sense of spiritual purpose, they need to feel valued by fellow religious, they need to participate in decisions that affect them, they need to be stimulated to accept in an ongoing way the call toa deep union in Christ; the province has need to be cleai" as to its goals and how to realize these goals in practice, it needs a culture that is ¯ supportive of change and change agents. Provincials truly exercise leadership to the degree that they respond to these needs. We are here speaking of transformational leadership, as defined by J. M. Bums. For him: "Transform-ing leadership ultimately becomes moral in that it raises the level of human conduct and ethical aspiration for both leader and led, and thus it has a transforming effect on both."20 It is a leadership that rarely uses the authority of the office, not a leadership that moves people to act "by the sheer over-whelming magic of his personality and persuasive powers.TM The type of leadership the provincial should be exercising is described in the findings of applied anthropology given above. It is therefore a leadership that aims to help religious discover, individually ~and corporately, that they have within them-selves the power and the commitment to enter into a process of innovative change in service of the Lord and his Church. Such a provincial is "influential by strengtheningand inspiriting his audience . The leader arouses confidence in his followers. The followers feel better able to accomplish whatever goals he and.they share."~2 This is an extremely tough assignment. A provincial has several definite functions as a leader: to ministe~ in a pastoral way to the needs of individual religious, to plan for the future of the province, to administer the province by implementing the plan and to animate Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 the whole province' to be part of the planning and implementation of the corporate plan. Each function is related to each other function listed. How in practic~ are these functions to be realized so that no one function achieves a priority it should not have? I believe a provincial can fulfill the mandate to lead the province by empowering individuals and groups to use their gifts for the common good; by helping the province to discover 'its common goals; by helping the province to discover the means 0f.achieving the g0als.23 Let me explain the meaning of each of these statements: 1. ?he Empowering of Individuals and Groups ,~ Individuals and groups need to be reminded that they are called to serve the Church as committed religious, placing whatever gifts God has given them at the disposal of others; In the post-Vatican Church this is a most demanding provincial apostolate, particularly when so many religious have been personally wounded or disoriented as a result ofthe cultural changes following the Coun-cil. Tremendous patience in listening is required. Religious in fact may need specialized help if their sense of self-worth and confidence is .to be restored to them. However, the more religious are affirmed in the gifts given by God, the more they are open to participate actively in sharing their visions with others and in supporting innovation. In his visitations the provincial is also able to discover individuals who are already change-agents or potentially so. They may need affirming in their role, particularly if there is opposition to their insights~ The provincial, eventually using his authority, may then decide 'to place these change-agents in positions where these people can be the most productive. He can spot those religious who with further training are able to become change-agents, e.g. as spiritual leaders, administrators, pastoral leaders. ~ At the corporate and individual levels, he articulates the values that relate to the welfare and purpose of the province, e.g. values of'Christian service, cooperation, participation, support for innovators. This role is called the "hands-on, value-driven" approach, an apt description that religious life ani-mation should mean.24 It is a role that requires the provincial to keep challeng-ing the province, to keep 'raising awkward or difficult questions that others do not want to raise, e.g, what is the purpose of what you are doing?why are we in this particular apostolate--just because we. have always been doing it or because this is what God wants us to do because people really need it? what ideas do you have to improve the quality of your apostolate? It is not sufficient to ask the questions; he miast be on the spot, either personally or through a delegate, to hear the answers and to ,question further if the answers are not adequate. Remember, this. is the only way for the real pastoral felt needs to emerge. The more religious.are forced into responding to such questions, the more in fact they are being empowered to utilize their God-given gifts. The word forced needs to'be further explained. In order to be forced into Provincials as "'Cuhural Revolutionaries'" / 185 reacting to realities, it might well be necessary for a provincial .to cultivate in certain circumstances a "planned apostolic neglect or avoidance" of individuals or groups. Sometimes people will not respond to reality until they are forced to do so through suffering and the discovery of their own powerlessness. The discerning provincial will know just when this suffering should be permitted to occur.25 For periods of time he may become the object of considerable anger from the individuals or groups in question who keep demanding that "he solve their problems." I recall me.eting members of a credit union in one Fijian village that for several years had become inactive. They told me that for a long time they blamed outsiders for their problems. The founder, Fr: Ganey, kept away quite deliberately until the people finally realized that they were the source of their own inactivity. They expressed gratitude for the skilled neglebt on his part. Paradoxically, this is an example of the "hands-on, value-driven" type of leadership. 2. Helping the Province to Discover Common Goals . Without common goals, a religious province will break up into many competing groups, struggiing for ascendancy over one another and for:control over ever-declining manpower or financial resources. Just as the. discovery of what the province's felt needs are is a long and difficult process, so also will it be challengingto refine the common goals that relate to these needs. A provincial might be °able to discover the goals ,himself and articulate them to the whole province. Notionally the province might accept them, but in practice they will reject them for they have never had the chance to own them by participating in discovering them themselves. How are these goals to be discovered and articulated? We all know from bitter experience how chapters so frequently end up with finely worded state-ments of goals for°the province and for this or that apostolate. But, once the texts are published they are shelved and nothing happens, until the next chapter when the same procedure is adopted! Recall the anthropological insight above: projects are more readily successful if there is maximum delega-tion and involvement within small groups. If this is done in provinces and the information and experience of the groups are fed up to a chapter or provincial council, then the goals that emerge will more likely be owned by the whole province. A provincial then will use interest groups and, if necessary, foster new groups to emerge that are close to where action is taking place. Delegation is insufficient; he must keep calling them to accountability. When this process is adopted, time-consuming though it may be, individuals with innovative ideas are more likely to emerge and their insights more easily owned by the group. From the point of vie~w of a desk administrator, the approach is not particularly efficient as regards t~he use of time, but it will definitely be effective. It means, of course, that the provincial either directly or indirectly will be present to these groups, actively listening,.challenging them to see their goals and objectives in 186 / Review for Religiouy, March-April, 1985 light of wider corporate needs and goals. If he ignores them, they rightly become discouraged, bitter and angry, eventually either going their own way independent of ~he provinc.e's needs or becoming purely passive, without any interest in innovation. 3. Helping the Province to Discover the Means to Achieve Goals A province that denies it has a manpower problem, when in fact it obviously has, must be challenged to recognize this reality. I heard of one province of a congregation which expected at the very most to have three priests ordained for the coming ten years. The provincial chapter encouraged each apostolate to state their manpower needs; they did and they were accepted without question by the chapter. No one wanted to accept the fact that the total manpower requirements of the province as passed by the chapter were twenty priests beyond what the province could ever possibly field. A province that is really participating in its own growth at the grassroots would never have,reached such an unrealistic state of denying the obvious. A provin-cial will work closely with various interest and apostolic groups, challenging and planning how to achieve the goals established by the groups and by ~the province as a whole. Moreover, the provincial will aim to discover just what the criteria for manpower assessment is being used at the grassroots. For example, if the Church is defined in organizational or hierarchical terms, then low recruitment coupled with an aging membership in a clerical religious congregation is a severe crisis. On the other hand, if the Church is defined in community terms, the present search for new directions promises all kinds of possible ~theological and sociological variations in forms of ministry.26 In addition, a province in which many members have been trained to be passive, uncreative, unsupportive of innovation and innovators will have a manpower crisis that is Open to correction by a provincial. A proxiincial who has the ability so to empower religious to discover that they can be creative even in small ways and open to change will be developing resources within the province that were not able to be considered before. In brief, therefore, the provincial's task is to stimulate the province through its own discernment process to an awareness of its own resources. The criteria-- theological and otherwise--need to be spelled out and repeatedly articulated until owned by the province. They cannot be the criteria of the provincial alone. Qualities of the Provincial as Cultural Change-Agent In this paper~it has been assumed that leadership is "the process of influenc-ing the activities of an individual or a group in efforts toward goal achievement in a given situation. In essence, leadership involves accomplishing goals with and through people."27 It means that the leader is concerned about tasks, but also human relations. A provincial will need to know what the mission of the Church is, the charism and: mission of his own congregation, an understanding Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries" / 187 of the manpower and financial resources of the province. He will need to know the theory that relates to how to stimulate the province to discover the pastoral needs of the people they exist to serve, and how to go about setting and implementing policies: If he has little knowledge of these points, he can still turn to others for help. But he cannot turn to anyone else ffr his most basic and primary skill, the skill of working with people.28 As applied anthropology points out with incisive clarity, this quality must flow out of his sensitivity to , the innate potential in every human person for responsible self-determination. This sensitivity will inevitably produce empathy, which is the ability to accept people as they are, not to condemn, but also to accept them for their potential. The response of empathy is not necessarily verbal. In fact it is primarily an internal response wherein a provincial identifies with the feelings of the province and the religious members.29 :From this sensitivity there will naturally emerge also a gift of listening, a willingness to enter into dialogue with the province and its religious at a speed that is not insulting to the dignity o.f all concerned. A provincial of this. kind is a humble person, aware of the immense riches of God's grace and power that he will discover even in the most wounded of the province's members. Ultimately, for a provincial such qualities of openness and sensitivity will be maintained, despite the considerable testing, only if his own life is centered within the heart of Christ the Servant (Mt 20:25-28). Rather than command with the authority of status and appointment, the servant: shows by example. Servants seek the free choice of those being led.30 This is the model clearly evident in the new Code of Canon Law (618): "The,authority which Superiors receive from God through the ministry of the Church is to be exercised by them in a spirit of service., i. By their reverence for the human person, they are to promote voluntary obedience, They are to listen willingly ~o their sub-jects and foster their cooperation for the good of the institute and the Church, without prejudice, however, to their authority to decide and to command What is to be done." Finally, what amount of time should a provincial give each of his functions? I believe the greatei" percentage of his time should be directed to ministering to the corporate body, that is the emphasis on planning and animating the province to become a culturesupportive of innovation and participating in innovation. I believe the ministry to individuals should occupy less time:3~ This latter is extremely demanding of energy and it can be never ending. But, it is a vital ministry that can be shared with others in the province. If a provincial is not clear as to his role, he can so easily slip into one or other of his functions to the detriment of the other duties. Conclusion A provincial is the officially appointed chief change-agent for a province. Without his vigorously stimulating leadership, it will be most unlikely that his province will become or remain innovative and creative in the service of the Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 Church. I assume throughout the article that inno~,ation in itself will not really be effective, unless it comes out of a province that is turning with renewed vitality to Christ, the Stimulant and Sustainer of all change. I also assume that there is a process of reappropriation of the founding charism, that is members of the province, reflec.ting on the needs of the world around them on the one hand, and the gospel message on. the other, have the same sense of shock at the gap between them that their founder experienced.32 However, I can almost hear a very committed provincial who is deeply disturbed by the type of problems we have listed in the model of the "typical province" above sayz "What you write sounds good, but it is from an ivory tower. I see several houses in my province that have long since served their apostolic usefulness: I know which way the province should move to touch the real needs of people. I see good-meaning people who are in fact obstructing all change. Therefore, I see the need to move fast and decisively; I will close the "houses and disperse ~he men to places of real apostolic need. One needs to be practical, not theoretical!" I fully sympathize with siach a provincial. But, in this article I claim that the most practical way of changing a culture so that it is supportive of positive innrvation, not just for the present but also for the future, is for a provincial to learn to work with people in the ways explained above. Neither people nor cultures are mechanical structures. By struggling slowly 'to enEourage innovators to develop within the culture and to be sup-ported by the culture of the province, the provincial will be acting in a thor-oughlypractical way. This is the lesson of contemporary managerial studies, of the findirigs of applied anthropology, and, of course, of a spirituality of.growth within religious life in the service of the Church. We spoke in the article of the virtues needed in this challenging role. Together, ithey could be united under one virtue--the gift of humor. A common characteristic of dictators, revolutionaries, and ecclesiastical authoritarians alike is the refusal both to laugh at themselves and to allow others to laugh at them.33 He who has a sense of spiritual humor recognizes deep in his heart that ultimately he can do nothing by himself. He needs God, he needs other people. When lie tries to do everything himself, he plays God~ And what could be funnier! ". See how the kings of the earth stand in array. He who dwells in heaven is laughing at their threats [their pride], the Lord makes light of them" (Ps 2). NOTES ~See Raymond Hostie, The l_zfe and Death of Religious Orders: A Psycho-sociological Approach, (Washington: Cara, 1983, pp. 276ff, and Lawrence Cada, Raymond Fitz, Gertrude Foley, Thomas Giardino and Carol Lichtenberg, Shaping the Coming Age of Religious Life (NY: The Seabury Press, 1979, p. 60 and passim. Provincials as "Cultural Revolutionaries"/ 189 2S.C. for Religious and Secular Institutes and S~C. for Bishops, Directives for the Mutual Relations between B~hops and Religious in the Church, Rome, 1978, par. 12. 31bid. 4See E. E. Hagen, On the Theory of Social Change: How Economic Growth Begins (London: Tavistock, 1962), pp. 88-97. 5See Rosabeth Moss Kanter, The Change Masters: Corporate Entrepreneurs at Work (London: George Allen & Unwin, 1983), pp. 17-36 and passim; William H. Davidson, The Amazing Race: Winning the Techno-rivalry with Japan (NY: John Wiley, 1984), passim. 6E.g. see R. M. Kanter, op. cit.; Terrence E. Deal and Allan A. Kennedy, Corporate Cultures: The Rites and Rituals of Corporate IDle, (Reading: Addison-Wesley, 1982); Thomas J. Peters and Robert H. Waterman, In Search of Excellence: Lessons from America's Best-Run Compan-ies (NY: Harper & Row, 1982). 7R. M. Kanter, op. cit., p. 13. 8See Richard T. Pascale and Anthony G. Athos, The Art of Japanese Management (London: Allen Lane, 1982), pp. 116-140); also Chic Nakane, Japanese Society (Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1973), pp. 88f. 9R. T. Pascale and A. G. Athos, op. cit. p. 126. ~0Ibid, p. 124. ~See T. J. Peter~ and R. H. Waterman, op. cir. p. 291 and passim. nSee Lucy'Mair, Anthropology and Development (London: Macmillan, 1984), p. 13. ~3R. M. Kanter, op. cit., p. 306. ~41bid, p. 23. ~sSee Gerald A. Arbuckle "Economic and Social Development in th~ Fiji Islands through Credit Unions" in Credit Unions in the South Pacific, edited by Nell Runcie (London: University of London Press, 1969), pp. 90-108. irSee (ed) Edward H. Spicer, Human Problems in Technological Change (NY: John Wiley, 1967), p. 18 and passim; Ward Hunt Goodenough, Cooperation in Change: .An Anthropological Approach to Community Development (NY: John Wiley, 1966), passim;:William W. Biddle and Loureide J. Biddle, The Community Development Process: The Rediscovery of Local Initiative (NY: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1965), passim. ~T Traditional Cultures: And the Impact of Technological Change (NY: Harper, 1962, pp. 268f. ~sSee Gerald A. Arbuckle, "Why They Leave: Reflections of a Religious Anthropologist" in REVIEW FOR RELIrlOUS, Vol. 42, No. 6, 1983, pp. 815-826. ~gSee Evelyn M. Woodward, "On the Grim Periphery: Reflections on Marginality and Alienation~ in REVlEW FOR RELIGIOUS, ~'ol. 42, No. 5, 1983, pp. 694-711. ~ocited by T. J. Peters and R. H. Waterman, op. cit., p. 83. 2'David McClelland, cited by T. J. Peters and R. H. Waterman, op. cit., p. 84. '2David McClelland, ibid. '3See Speed B. Leas, Leadership and Conflict (Nashville: Abingdon, 1982), p. 28ff. ~4See T. J. Peters and R. H. Waterman, op. cit.,'pp. 279-291. ~For an analysis of "situational leadership" see Paul Hersey and Ken Blanchard, Management of "Organizational Behavior: Utilizing Human' Resources (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, 1982), pp~ 149-175. 26See J. Moore, "Some Aspects of the Sociology of Priesthood" in Social Studies: Irish Journal of Sociology, April 1979, p. 129; and William R. Burrows, New Ministries: TheGIobal Context (NY: Orbis, 1980), p. ll7ff. ~TSee E Hersey and K. Blanchard, op. cit., p. 84. ~sSee T. R. Batten, The Human Factor in Community Work (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1965), p. 181. ~gSee Robert K. Greenleaf, Servant Leadership: A Journey into the Nature of Legitimate Power and Greatness (NY: Paulist, 1977), p. 20f. ~oSee Lawrence O. Richards and Clyde Hoeldtke, A Theology of Church Leadership (Grand Rapids: Zondervan, 1982), p. 107 and passim. 190 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 3~See comments by Conleth Overman, Current Issues in Provincial Leadership (Washington: Cam, 1983), p. 76. 32See Finbarr B. Connolly, Religious Life: A Profile of the Future (Dublin: Reality, 19~2), pp: 10ft; Diarmuid O Murchu, The Seed Must Die." Religious Life--Survival or Extinction? (Dub-lin: Veritas, 1980), pp. 35-40 and passim. a~See Conrad Hyers, The Comic Vision and the Christian Faith: A Celebration of Life and laughter (NY: The Pilgrim Press, 1981), p. 24. Christ the Center of O.ur Vowed Life by Boniface Ramsey, O.P. Father Ramsey's three articles on the vows of religion are available as a single reprint: i - The Center of Religious Poverty ii - Christocentric Celibacy iii - Cruciform Obedience Price: $1.75 per copy, plus postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Living the Difference: Contemplative, and Apostolic Lifestyles Marie Beha, OS.C. Sister Marie is a frequent contributor to Revieff for Religious. Her last title, "By His Wounds," appeared in the March/April, 1984 issue. Sister Marie continues to reside in the Monastery of St. Clare; 1916 N. Pleasantburg Drive: Greenville, SC 29609. The letter repeated a familiar theme, "I keep wondering why you did it. Why you entered a contemplative monastery, .instead of loving and serving and praying where you were. What have you found there? What's so different about it?" 1 put the letter down and reflected again on the frequency of such inquir-ies. What db they mean? What do they say, not only about individuals, but also, and especially, about the larger picture of the future of apostolic life and the needs of His church? Those questions are much too big for me; I only ask them by way of "consciousness-raising" of you the reader. My purpose here is far more modest than any attempt to answer such questions. 1 would only like to suggest some of the ways in which monastic contemplative life differs from active; apostolic life. To do this I will tell you a story or two. They are true stories; true to my own experier~ce but also limited by it. And further limited, as are most stories, by touching only on externals. But underneath what appears lies all the .difference of attitudes and value choices. In short, my stories hope to be parables! Life in a contemplative, monastic community is a completely different kind of life: it is not active, apostolic life, with more provisions for times of prayer, silence, and so forth. Nor is it, by any means, a reliquary of pre-Vati-can 11 customs untainted by the adaptations of renewal. No, it is a completely different kind of life, a unique way of expressing the love of God and neighbor and of serving the Church which undergirds all Christian life. Let me try to illustrate some of these differences with a parable or two. 191 199/ Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 A Matter of Timing -, The bell ending supper-recreation had just rung and the schedule 1 had been given guided my steps toward the kitchen. The last exercises of the monastic day were: 7 p.m.: dishes; 7:30 p.m.: Night Prayer. 1 noticed that there were plenty of dishes, stacks of them. The cook had been baking, and so we had an assortment of taxing bowls and loaf trays to add to the usual array of pots and pans. I checked my watch and made some quick equations. Amount of work' to be done divided by time till Compline equals rate of speed at which dishes must be washed. It would be close timing, and 1 pitched in with more good will than skill. After several such evenings 1 began to notice something: I was the only one working at that rate of speed--to say nothing of noise level and general confusion I generated. The other sisters were quietly, peacefully, going about their usual work--at the usual rate of speed. "We'll never get finished that way!" l was right. We didn't get finished on time. Night Prayer did not start at 7:30. But I also noticed that no one else seemed disturbed, l commented on this interesting phenomenon to another sister. She was surprised. She cor-rected my schedule to read: "Night Prayer after dishes?" She also challenged my thinking: "What's the hurry? Where are you going?" Not Counting the Cost My second story could be titled, "Quantity: a Further Qualification?' A generous benefactor had endowed the monastery with bushel upon bushel of Eeaches, all needing almost immediate attention, it was "All hands report to the kitchen" for several days of hard work, punctuated only by the regular rhythm of the Office. At the end of several very full days that, with the community refreshed by peaches served in any number of creative ways, we finally got the remainder of the fruit stored away intb jars. It was with a feeling of genuine accomplish-ment. that I asked the~sister in charge, "How many quarts did we can?" Again that startled !ook. "How many? 1 have no idea, sister; I never thought to count but 1 can if you want me to." Obligingly she did and reported next day. But 1 could see that she remained puzzled by my interest so ! observed, "You hadn't counted them before, had you?" "Oh, no; we just do as many as we can. How many doesn't make any real .difference, does it?" Well, does it? 1 had more thinking to do. 1 could very well imagine any number of people answering that question with a rousing affirmative: "Of course!" Again I computed my answer, based on previous life-experience. Price per jar is the product of outlay for raw materials times the .number of hours needed to produce the finished product. ! pursued my line of thinking a bit further and calculated the cost of our seVeral :days of labor. Evenat minimum wages those were expensive peaches! I didn't see how we could afford such luxuries, I reported my findings .back to the sister of whom I had made my previous inquiry. 1 could see from the expression on her face that she found my analysis Living the Difference / 193 puzzling. "But someone gave us the peaches and we had the time . " Her math went something like this: "given the peaches; given the hard work and the time," 'it all added up to total gift. There was no need for any further computation. Who Is Gifted? "Everything is grace." Everything is gift--if it is given. A visiting sister was being introduced to the community. Name followed name in bewildering rapidity uninterrupted by any qualifying phrase. Only the abbess was further identified by the job-description of her title. I could sense Our visitor"s barely suppressed desire for some functional description to distinguish one "Sister" from another "Sister," and these from still more "Sisters." I began to let my mind roam over the possibilities. You could say: "Sister X is cook right now." But next year it would be another sister's turn either to learn hbw or to manage with expertise. No matter. And "sister A is presently the laundress." A promotion, a demotion? The job meant neither. All such speculation is simply useless, l can still recall with amusement the shocked look on the face of another visitor who had: risked asking an obviously r~fined and very well-educated sister, "And what do you do?" And the sister an-swered, truthfully enough, "Oh, I'm in maintenance right now." The truth is that no amount of natural giftedness, no degree of profes-sional' preparation will ensure success as a contemplative. Accomplishment is far less important than whole-hearted effort. And in this area there are no objectivized standards, no satisfying sense of accomplishment. In a contem- ¯ plative community the most gifted are not the individuals with the most to give, but rather those who give the most of themselves. The prized "positions" are, very often, those that allow for routine repeti-tive work that can quiet the mind and open it for deeper levels of prayer~ a . "lived mantra." But newcomers to contemplative life have to discover these values disguised in the monastic staple of manual work. On the face of things, one could only agree with a new postulant whose previous career in social work had included service in a shelter workshop. On being introduced to the routine work of the altar-bread room, her classic comment was, "What a marvelous type of work this would be"for a shelter workshop." The other sisters engaged in baking and cutting and checking hosts could only enjoy their newfound classification among the "retarded." What does one's doing have to do with who one is? ~. What Do You Do All Day? This is not my favorite question. And frequent repetition has not given me any more ready an answer. Sometimes the more knowledgeable questioner will add with understandable awe--or skepticism--"Pray? Do you pray all day?" Experience has shown me that the bare recitation of the monastic schedule doesn't provide a satisfying answer. In fact, it may well obscure rather 194 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 than reveal the truth about ou~" activity and its meaning~ Only too often the next question is: "Aren't you bored?" No, certainly not. The last time I was bored was so far in the past that 1 would have to mount a sweep-and-search operation to discover it. If the dailiness of my life were not. rich and full 1 would leave and try another style of living, one that offered the possibilities of more interesting avenues of escape! Granted, the e~ternals of the monastic day do have a certain fixed struc-ture to them. From Easter to Thanksgiving and through the New Year, the regularly recurring Hours of the Liturgy spell out continuous praise. Breakfast on Christmas morning will be celebrated in the same silence that prevails at the beginning of any "ordinary" day. So too the gathering peace of a Fourth-of- July evening after Night Prayer will be just as quiet as that of any other completed day. All of which does not rule out celebration. On the contrary, the liturgy of monastic life requires celebration. Unfortunately, it is easier to explain the staples of monastic scheduling than to present the nuances of silent celebrat-ing~ So let me try another story. It was watermelon season in the South, and our garden had produced a superabundance "pressed down and running over" with additional benefactions from other fortunate gardeners. After a full morning of grass mowing I came into choir at noon,:grateful for Midday Prayer's refreshing pause. Dinner routinely followed and the monastic menu had some of the same invariability: simple, nourishing food for which hunger provided most of the spice and sauce: the main dish would be several vegeta-bles completed by fruit for dessert. This day, once again, there were generous slices of cold watermelon. Now I'll confess, watermelon is not my favorite fruit. But as I sat down in silence, .giving thanks by opening myself to enjoyment, l suddenly found myself alive to the deep down goodness of--watermelon! Nothing had ever tasted so good. And another eucharist was celebrated. So what do contemplatives do all day? They celebrate the ordinary and enjoy its giftedness. Routine simply stabilizes their capacity for wonder. Lei-sure opens their work,to prayer and regular periods of formal prayer prevent work from becoming its own taskmaster. Bored? Never. There is too much challenge in the being/doing that is living. "But;" l hear you ask: "what's the living for?" Is Seeing Believing or Is Believing Seeing? If the bottom line of any loving is faith's free assent, then contemplative life can only be sustained in a faith that believes even when there is'nothing to show or even to see for oneself. And it's such blindness that illuminates everything and makes it all worthwhile in redemption's economy. To illustrate with another story or two. 1 had to make a trip to another monastery and ! was laying out my preliminary plans for this unusual venture with the abbess. Would | fly? Or Lt'ving the Difference / 195 take the bus? Sister replied that she would prefer I took the plane: it would be worth the extra expense. I heard her caring, and I appreciated its typical concern. But when next we spoke 1 shared with her the details of my further research on the subject of the. bus and its costs, all carefully detailed and worked out. The abbess stopped me halfway. "But, Sister, I already told you l would prefer thht you fly." That grounded me for a while. She commended my original initiative and recognized my desire to go the way of the poor. "Yet 'He became obedient'; that is what redemption is all about." Many years later I am still struggling to learn and to live in that mystery, believing that a surrender which is adult and free makes whole a world still fragmented by original disobedience. Such simple obedience is only part of the faith story. The contemplative expression of poverty, celibacy, community all take "believing" for their true "seeing." Most of the time, in my experience, all that is visible is the effort required to live out faith's assent, but sometimes understanding is given--that one may believe. Another story. The sign propped up on the refectory table amid the potato salad and the cottage cheese indicated one more national tragedy. "Mrs. S. just called. X has been shot. Please pray." My supper was seasoned by some speculation: Who had done it? And why?--the inevitable, incredulous "why". Later on that evening, when 1 found myself drawn, back to the choir to pray, those samb questions still formed the backdrop of my inarticulate presence before Him. Then, slowly, my prayer became more expressive, not so much with words as with life experience. Who had done it? Not ~them," "out there." No, I had done it. I was involved, deeply so. I was guilty. "Why?" 1 felt the surge of frustration, anger, hatred boil over within me and reach out for revenge, l was there. It was my choice to feel, to know--and to bring it all with me, in me, to Him. l stayed on in the choir in darkness, l could see why l was there, why l am here~ Ultimately it is only faith that makes the difference. So if I were to respond to my original letter of inquiry with a counter-ques-tion, 1 might well ask: "What do you consider Worth a whole life's giving'?" The richness of multiple-choice answers to that question is what completes our world and opens it to the ever fuller coming of His kingdom. The contemplative response is spelled out in a structured leisure that works hard without the sustaining drive of competitive accomplishment. It is a style of life that appreciates individual giving over personal giftedness, that values the simplest of contributed services. A contemplative is constantly surprised by beauty in the ordinary and learns to celebrate it in the language of sameness. The reconciliation of obedience with initiative and eager participa-tion with a .life that deliberately stands apart, these are some of the other paradoxes of contemplative, monastic life. So the stories go. There are many, many more--as .many as there are contemplatives and communities living out their life's faith in values that are expressed with a difference. :Spiritual Direction Frank Wallace, S.J. Father Wallace is engaged in retreat work at the Campion College Retreat Centre (Campion College; 99 Studley Park Road; KEW, Victoria, 3101). Prior to that he had been Tertian Instructor for his province. Pastoral care is a term that covers the work of many helpers whose roles may at times oVerlap, yet are specifically different. There is the parent who nurtures, the teacher who instructs, the religious superior who rules a com-munity, the confessor whose specific function is to convey sacramental for-giveness, the counselor who helps the client get in touch with his or her feelings, helps remove blocks, assists in decision making and psychological growth. And there is the spiritual° director, whose specific function is to facilitate the .encounter between God and the directee; so also do confessors, religious superiors, and perhaps, too, the other.helpers. Yet the spiritual director has a distinctive, specific function, which is emerging ever more clearly.' The Role of the Spiritual Director ~' The experience of most older religious today is that the spiritual director (or spiritual father, as he was often called) was someone you consulted about problems, distractions in prayer, and who helped you in those areas. With the growth in prayerfulness and the awareness of the need for guidance, lest we may "fall off the mountain," with the increasing popularity of directed retreats and houses of prayer, with the work of depth psychology, ,the role of the spiritual director is .seen to be more than problem solving. It is concerned very much with growth in prayer. The spiritual director has been called God's usher and so is one who helps the directee to become more aware of God coming, of God present,,.by being with the directee as he or she is opening up to God's love. Spiritual directing belongs properly, to the opening to,the Sp!rit. As Alan Jones says, spiritual direction is worship, adoration, waiting on God (Explor- Spiritual Direction / 197 ing Spiritual Direction, p. 56). At times, the spiritual director may have recourse to a psychological coun-selor or, if skilled, act as counselor, to assist inthe psychological growth of the directee, because psychological growth and spiritual growth are related, though not synonymous (see Dr. Gillian Straker, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, Vol. 38, 1979). There may be distorted images of .God, of self, of prayer, that are blocking the encounter with God and which need correcting for that encounter to take place. In this, however, the spiritual director will not lose sight of the relationship with God as the focus of his or her caring. The valuable work of the counselor in helping the directee to be in touch with his or her feelings and to acc'ept the real self, facilitates the journey to a real God, by means of real communication. So often this experience, to borrow the title of one of Morton Kelsey's books, is reaching for the real, and necessary for growth in spiritual freedom. ~ The spiritual director walks with the directee, who shares his or her prayer experiences, and together they discern what is happening. At the very heart of spiritual direction is discernment, which, in its. full meaning adds a deeper dimension to counseling, as we shall see later. The Rules for the Discernment of Spirits are a valuable cdntribution by Ignatius 'Loyola~to spiritual directing. The Directory of 1591 compares the director to a midwife. Hugo Rahner says of this: "This somewhat remarkable compa'rison of the director tO a 'midwife' is in itself an introduction to that great patristic theme of the 'birth of God in men's hearts,' which the great psychologists and~experts on human nature among the l~athers saw as a.time of internal conflict, during which considerable importance must be attached to the discernment of spirits" (Ignatius the Theologian, p. 140). Recently a friend, who is a mother and who had been directed by me in a retreat, and who had never heard of the 1591 Directgry, wrote to me, andwith her permission I quote: "I rather think you are like a midwife--assisting those in the throes of labor--knowing the birth is to eternal life.We don't see the birth--only the struggle. I know once I reached the stage of b.eing able to push, it wasn't nearly so bad .and .nobody could do the pushing for me. But getting to that pushing stage,was greatly helped by understanding midwives who helped me to know what was happening and where I was at. They encouraged, dispelled fears, transferred confidence, lifted sagging spirits, soothed and cossetted and bullied me throughout." That is as good a description of a spiritual director as I have come across, and it certainly opened up for me the validity of the 1591 image of midwife. Any serious entry into one's spiritual life may cause a great "agitation. of spirits,." as Ignatius Loyola and Peter Favre both said. The director needs to be very encouraging and reassuring, be willing to share the helplessness and pain. Convinced that any experience can be creative Qr destructive, he or she will be ready to encourage at times of fear, discouragement, disappointment. Encour- "191~ [ Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 agement is, perhaps, the most significant help that the director gives. Linked with this is enlightenment, so that the directee sees what is happen-ing, discovers the hidden God or new ways o.f praying. Enlightenment does not mean telling the directee what to do, playing God in his or her life, imposing the director's experience on the directee. The director should be a mirror for the directee to look into, a sounding board to bounce off ideas, a companion of hop, e and !ight. ' In the following model interview we note the encouragement and enlighten-ment ,offered by the director: Director: You have been telling me about, your prayer with Jesus in the garden, and said you were disappointed. What were you disap-pointed about, Mary? Retreatant: I was just fighting distractions all the time. I couldn't slay with the Lord, and I wanted to comfort him. Director: You really wanted to comfort him? That desire is surely from the Spirit, wouldn't you say? Retreatant: I suppose so, yet I really l~eel I let him down. Diredtor: Do you think the Lord is disappointed in you? Retreatant: Well, I didn't do much for him. Director: Have you asked the Lord whether he was disappointed in you? Retreatant: No, but he must be, surely. Director: Could you go to him and ask him? Only he can tell you. your disappointment is real and it is important to find out more about it. So speak to him about this feeling of letting him down. Retreatant: D6 you think this will he!p? Director: I believe it will. And I also hope you haven't forgotten about that desire to comfort him. That's the result of his power at work in you. Retreatant: That's. ~right, I did want to comfort him. So I mustn't be all wrong. Director: Well, talk it over with him. Here the director is trying to encourage and bring the retreatant to the Lord. No doubt he or she will discuss at some time the retreatant's concept of prayer, the handling of distractions, and will direct attention to the Lord's experience of pain in the garden. These are areas arising from the interview about which both must seek further enlightenment. The director will have noted how the retreatant tends to focus on the negative and forget the positive. But haste is made slowly. The Context of Spiritual Direction The context of spiritual directing varies, and so do the people seeking. There is the spiritual direction proper to a retreat. If the retreat is fully directed, the dialogue will be very much centering on the prayer experiences shared. Of course, there will be references to out-of-retreat life, but usually the focus is on the retreat prayer. Sometimes the retreat may be "semi-guided," characterized by one or two talks to the group, and the opportunity to talk with a director. In Spiritual Direction / 199 that context there seems to be less discussion of the individual, distinctive prayer movement, because the situation is not as intense. So in these two retreat contexts we see some variation. Outside of retreat there may be ongoing spiritual direction, characterized by regular, frequent interviews, extending over a year or longer. This will mean discussion of daily life experiences as well as the prayer experience. Often this means that the director moves into a counselor's role, although the dialogue about prayer and God should not be overlooked. There may be the kind of directing relationship that calls for interviews only occasionally during the year, as a kind of "accountability checkup," with the opportunity to talk over one's spiritual life made available at these meetings. Finally, a spiritual director may be sought out in a crisis situation, either because he or she is recommended, or because the alternative of seeking a counselor, psychologist, psychiatrist is too alarming, Although the expectancies and the dialogue in all these cases will vary, the spiritual director, qua director, will focus on relationship with God--though in differing ways, according to the directee's needs. Gerald G. May summarizes the role of the spiritual director very succinctly when he describes it as "a pointing of direction; a 'setting of environment, a sharing of oneself, and a deep attentiveness"( Pilgrimage Home, p. 23, Paulist Press, 1979). Some Qualities in a Good Spiritual Director Ordination, of itself, does not gift the priest to be a spi~tual director. Today we are seeing lay people °and nuns exercising this ministry; and doing so successfully. What are the qualities needed? Love The director must be able to relate to people, to love people, to be free to feel warm to them and to receive their warmth. Morton T. Kelsey in Caring, writes well of this and says: "It is impossible for us to love other people unless we listen to them . The kind of listening I am talking about is listening which does not judge or evaluate" (p. 67). It is the quality of the listening that shows whether you are .loving the person, deeply interested in him or her, listening to know and accept, not to change, judge; evaluate. It is a listening that respects the distance and the difference of the other, a listening that patiently waits for the revelation of the other, a listening that can lay aside personal agendas because of ~he absorption in the other. It is a warmth, however, that is not possessive, that allows the other the freedom to be his or her own person. In The Practice of Spiritual Direction, Barry and Connolly speak of the need to have a "surplus of warmth" (pp. 126-130). They mean "a love for a variety of people, warts and. moles and all," which is characterized by com-mitment, the effort to understand, and spontaneity. The director must be free 200 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 to be his or her own person, not seeking to satisfy emotional needs through the directee, nor imiaosing agenda or experiences on the other. Nor must the director lay fidse expectations on himself or herself by trying to play God in the other's life as a solver of that person's problems. He or she listens so fully that he or she "enters into the skin" of the directee. This demands generous love because it leads into compassion which is shared helplessness, shared pain. It means beifig able to stay with the other no matter how hard that is, losing yourself in the other. Clearly we are not talking hire of sentimental attachments, but love as understood by St. Ignatius in the Contemplation for Attaining Divine Love. Sensitivity, courtesy, gentleness, reverence, patience are all quali-ties that fill'out the love the director must have for the directee, plus a willing-ness to accept silence: He/she is responsible to the directee, but not for. The quality of our responding reveals how we are listening. If there is no response, the directee may not have the sense of being heard, and, as Gerard Egan says, that is "hollow listening." Listening with the head only leads to judgment and just as the directee wants to be heard, so also does he or she want to be accepted, not judged. "Don't worry about that. You have no need to feel that way," as first responses are passing judgments, and reflections on the directee. What he or she wants is to be accepted, and this is experienced through responding with understanding. "I see that is very worrying. You must have been very hurt," and so forth. As the director listens with full absorption, the understanding will deepen, so that the sources of the feelings will be seen. When judged opportune, the director may communicate that deeper under-standing. The goal of listening is total listening, responding from the heart, not merely from the head. Gerard Egan writes well of listening and responding in You and Me. Total listening means listening with one's eyes, ears, head, heart so that one is lost in the other. It is contemplative listening, which hears what is not said, which hears the tone of anxiety, sees the expression of joy or worry, enjoys being with the other, and communicates that: "You are the only person in my world just now." The genuine love we are speaking of is marked by utter honesty and openness with the directee. So there can be no pretense, no bluffing by the director, but a transparent, open love. Brutal harshness and'severity have no part in this honest trust, even though sometimes they are mistaken for it. If there is to be confrontation it is important that~ this come from love, and be seen to come from love. Setting up "win/lose" situations tomes from a desire to Be right, not from love. As the directee experiences being trustbd by the director, so he or she is encouraged to trust the director with that precious "hidden self" that Paul writes of in Ephesians 3:14-21. All this will facilitate a genuine encounter between persons and with God, not just a mask meeting a mask. Sensitivity to the mystery of the other is the soil in which intimate relationships grow. The director needs to be comfortable with mystery, whether it is the mystery of God, of the directee, of self, so that there is this growth in sensitivity. Spiritual Direction / 201 There must, then, be patience to wait on the directee, on God. It is a great temptation to push sometimes, and this must be resisted, for, as Ignatius Loyola teaches, the Lbrd chooses to deal directly with the soul, and the director must not get in the way of this meeting. Simone Weil spoke of "waiting patiently, but with expectation, for the coming of the Lord." As the example of the midwife reminds us, it is only the ,mother who pushes, not the midwife. Dr. Jack Dominian describes this love as sustaining, healing and promoting "growth (Tablet, 14 May, 1983). Toial listening is sustaining because it conveys to the other that you care. A responding that clarifies, confirms and ~ffirms the goodness of the'other, not reinforcing the badness they see, and which" can help open the directee to God's personal love, is healing and promotes growth. There is little growth without pain. Wounded people can be frightened by the love offeredand may lash out in their fear, challenging the sincerity ofthe love offered. The director must be willing to stay in there,"sh~ring the hurt and the helplessness. That~ is compassion, shared helplessness, and the director shares in the growth of the directee as they walk together' in the mystery of pain_ and healing. We are all wounded healers if we are close to Christ. Mary could stand by the cross, sharing the helplessness of JesuS, without moving away because she could "do nothing" for him. At times the directoi-'s role is just to be a presence, helping transform helplessness into strong hope, not hopelessness (2 Co 12:7-10). This can be very difficult and painful, because the more love we bring to a situation, the more vulnerable we are. Peter tried to come between Jesus and his cross because he loved Jesus. Later he learned it was a false kind of Io~e, that was directed more at himself than at Jesus. So, the director may feel deeply the pain of the other and wish to come between the directee and Calvary. Dr. Dominian is not exaggerating when he writes: ~For anyone of us to succeed in loving, we have to suffer, and die a thousand deaths. Here is the encounter between grace and nature at its most powerful" ( Tablet 14 May, 1983¢p. 446). Directors who have stayed with directees in their Gethsemanes will agree. Feelings and Affectivity . The director needs to be aware of the importance of feelings. They are messages to ourselves about ourselves and we are diminished when we do not listen to them. The relationships.between the director and directee, as .between both and God, are deepen.ed as there is a growing .awar¢ness of the feeling responses present, and a sharing of them. ,. Feelings, by Willard Gaylin M.D. (Ballantine Books, N.Y.) and Feeling and Healing Your Emotions, by Conrad Baars M.D. (Logos) are helpful books. Baars speaks of humane and utilitarian emotions, directing attention to the psychic energy emotions release. ., Barry and Connolly speak of Anger, Deep Fears, Warmth.and "l:enderness, and Sexual Feelings, as very strong, deep feelings that people experience. There must be no blaming the other for one's feelings, for feelings are deeply 902 / Review for Religious, March-April, 1985 personal and must be personally owned. So the director encourages the directee to reveal such deep feelings to God also. Some may be prepared to reveal their so-called good feelings but not those they judge to be negative, e.g. anger. Or they may be willing to share anger (because it is becoming acceptable) but not strong sexual feelings they might be experiencing. Authentic prayer, though, is not a performance. It is an encounter with God, possible only when I am truly myself, One should be on guard against an exaggerated emphasis on anger which can be a cover up for less acceptable feelings as, for example, .sexual feelings. And it seems to have become rather common for persons to blame parents, school, Chur~ch~ their religious congregations for their present unacceptable state. Withotlt wishing to deny the influence all .these have, I wish to stress that our feelings are our ow9, and blaming others is both false and harmful. It is a sign of growing maturity when we accept responsibility for. our now lives. So .often we discover that the feelings that surface in prayer reveal the concept the directee hasof God. Hannah Hurnard in The Hearing Heart tells that for long she could not pray to Jesus, only to the Father. She was afraid of approaching Jesus lest he ask something hard of her. This would indicate that JesuS seemed to her excessively demanding. She was healed of this distortion, and could then pray to him. So a retreatant might pray to Jesus as God, but not as Man; she feels safe that way because she is frightened of men. Yet that fear is hindering an intimate relationship with Jesus, keeping him distant. Somebody else might pray to a God whois infinitely powerful, holy--and also infinitely distant, impersonal. Could such a person':experience that God really care~, is deeply fond of him or her? Perhaps what we see here is a fear of intimacy. The affectivity of the person includes the will, which besides being'an executive faculty, is also a loving faculty. The affective act of the will, "I love you," e~presses the basic desire for the well-being, the continued existence, of the beloved. Besides the will, our affective life also includes our feelings. These~are what I call the surface responses--sad, mad, glad, scared. There is alsoa deeper level of affectivity where dwells our faith, hope, love, peace, which one is aware 6f even though sensible "feeling signs" are missing. For example, a directee may speak of aridity in prayer, and yet there is the longing to pray, together with the awareness of an underlying deep peace. When John of the Cross speaks of the signs for moving prayer into contempla-tion, he is alerting us to these deeper levels of our affectivity. Discernment Thespiritual director is a walking contradiction, in that he or she isto be a "Competent incompetent" as someone has: said. The director must be incompe-. tent, because it is God's work at issue, God's. power that gives the increase (2 Cb 12:7-10; 1 Co 2:1-5). So, we must~tru~t ih God's power at work in the °Spiritual Direction / 203 director and in the directee, "doing infinitely more than he can ask or imagine" (Ep ~:14-21. This attitude must be continually growing and relied upon. But the director also must be. competent, skilled in total listening and in discet:nment. It is the discernment of spirits that is at the heart of.spiritual direction and which ultimately differentiates it from counseling. Ignatius Loyola and Peter Favre were good directors because they were both skilled in dis-cet: nment. As with them, so with the modern director, this skill is learned by being attentive to one's own responses--thoughts, feelings, behavior. Reflect-ing upon these experiences, for instance, the director will begin to observe their beginning, their middle and their end. Thus he or she begins to distinguish movements which are from God, movements authored by self, and move-ments stemming from forces outside, whether good, neutral or bad. The spirit-ual director learns from the movements in his or her own life the skills of discernment. Rarely are things black and white. Sifting tlie good and the bad, the wheat and the tares, is.a gift from the Spirit. The matter for discernment is the actual experiences revealed by the directee. Together, the director and directee prayerfully reflect upon these experiences to distinguish what is God-wards from wtiat is not. The directee, for example, may speak of a "peace-filled prayer." Nrt all peace, however is from the Good Spirit. Some is the result of achievement, some the accompaniment of a tranquil environment, some is the false peace of complacenc~,, and some truly i~ God's gift. What is this "peace" before us now? What are its fruits, and is it enduring? How does it measure with the packet group of Galatians 5:22-24? Humbly, patiently; both director and directee wait upon the Sp!rit to reveal the truth. Perhaps disappointment is reveaied in h sessio_n with the director. "Whom are you disappointed in? What are you disappointed about?" Following through on the answers offered can be richly rewarding, and can point the way in which the Spirit is guiding the direcl~ee. There are many writings about the discernment of spirits to help ,the director. A good knowledge of the Rules ~iven in the Spiritual Exercises of Ignatius Loyola is most helpful. Jules Toner has published a Commentary on these Rules for the Discernment of Spirits. This° is the fullest and deepest treatment I have read. Chapter 10 of Fessard's ~fe in Faith and Freedom, Michael Buckley in the Way Supplement 20, Harvey Egan in "The Spiritual Exercises and the Ignatian Mystical Horizon," the Memoriale of Blessed

Issue 69.3 of the Review for Religious, 2010. ; ANew Chal!en~e Models of Spi~rituali, ty Liv, ing Religious Li£e ' Foliow~ing Christ QUARTERLY 69.3 2010 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with God, dialogue with ourselves, and dialogue with one another about the holiness we try to live according to charisms of Catholic religious life. As Pope' Paul Vl said, our way of being church is today the way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Maih reviewrfr@gmail.com ¯Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Religious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ° Duluth, MN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2010 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribution, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~ gournalof Ca~ho~c ~piri~ua~y rel Editor Associate Editor Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Paul Coutinho SJ Martin Erspamer OSB' Margaret Guider OSF Kathleen Hughes RSCJ Louis and Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD QUARTERLY 69.3 2010 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 238 a new challenge ~ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age Daniel P. Horan OFM reflects on the role technology currently plays in both supporting and challenging Christians in their fellowship (koinonia) as church. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Hear and Far Hedwig Lewis SJ probes the inclusive meaning and reach of frontiers for spiritual enhancement and effective ministry. The term frontiers, contained in Decree Three of the 35th General Congregation of the Society of Jesus has gained popularity among many religious. 226] 255 268 models of spirituality ~ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Judith Metz SC explores a central element of St. Elizabeth Seton's spirituality: her realization of the importance of losing her life for the sake of living in closer union with Christ. A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth Avis Clendenen finds in an aging sister's simple tale a vision of the humility that our dangerously narcissistic culture seriously needs. Review for Religious 281 297 living religious life Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice Robert Nogosek CSC proposes that in order for religious life to be authentic discipleship it demands of us an ongoing reevaluation of what is required to be a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God. Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious Jeffrey Mickler SSP brings together some observations and practical suggestions on how to deal with problematic religious. 3O9 316 following Christ The Liturgical Year: History or Mystery? John M. Samaha SM examines the movement of the liturgical year in order that we might enter more fully into this time of grace. Personal Reflection / Group Discussion Discipleship and Clinging to God Damian C. Ilodigwe writes on how letting go opens us to true discipleship, and we are invited to detach ourselves from wayward affections in order to attach ourselves to God. departments 324 Scripture Scope: Reading and Understanding the Prophets 328 Book Review 227 69.3 2010 prisms 228 In the middle months of a secular calendar year, we find ourselves in what is identified as "ordinary time" in the church's liturgical year. As we likely have been told many times, the liturgical "ordinary time" refers to a way of counting (the Latin word ordo meaning "an ordering") the Sundays from one to thirty-four. These are the Sundays that are outside of the special seasons of Advent and Christmas, Lent and Easter. Yet for us Christians, there is a kind of lovely paradox in living within what we call the "liturgical season of ordinary time." While in many ways it may seem that all time is ordi-nary (since time is always countable), in other ways we can view all time as rather extraordi-nary. The ordinariness of time is caught up in our usual round of family or community life, of work and recreation, of the accustomed interaction of friends, neighbors, and fellow-workers. Some people try to break out of the day-to-day routine by deliberately scheduling in a special time for a dinner out, a day-trip to an unfamiliar town, or a different recreational activity such as biking or bowling. Review for Religious A number of people find each day an adventure and cannot imagine that there are some who would call life ordinary. These people find a newness in the chang-ing weather of this day, in the surprising interactions with their own children or friends, and even in the mes-sages of the mail, the internet, and the iphone. They have retained a certain childlikeness that retains a won-der,. about life in all its forms. For them life is not so much ordinal, that is, "countable," as it is caught up in "moments" that have no countable passage. For exam-ple, moments of insight and moments of being inflamed by love--spiritually identified as consolations--are truly beyond the countable. We Christians are blessed and graced to recognize these kinds of "moments" in prayer during which we feel caught up outside of time in our relationship with God. Surely it does not happen all the time; in fact, the "ordinary" is our "slugging away" at our prayer time. We can also know these moments when we are engaged in our various times of joy, happiness, and love. The wonder of it all is that these moments for us--those who are caught in finding life ordinary and those who are gifted to live in wonder--are actually moments that happen in the ordinary course of our daily living. Perhaps that is why it is important for us to enter fully into the paradox of our church's liturgical season of ordinary rime. There i~ the reality of the ordinary and there is also the reality of the moment. The church's liturgical year reminds us that God is always present to us both in the ordinary and in the moment. We need only to pray each day of our liturgical year to be gr.aced with the gratitude that finds God in all times and places. David L. Fleming sJ 69.3 2010 a new DANIEL P. HORAN challenge 2301 Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age If Jesus had been born in 1980 and began his public ministry in 2010, would he have "friended" the twelve apostles on Facebook instead of visiting the Sea of Galilee? While this question might at first seem comical, it reflects concern about how the church as the Christian community relates to the world in which it exists today. The world is very different from the world of Jesus' ministry. The way many people experience interpersonal communication, develop and maintain relation-ships, and share information is strikingly dif-ferent from the ways of previous generations. In an era marked by advances in technology, communication, and virtual space, we must be attentive to how much our church community is being influenced or shaped by its new envi-ronment. To understand some of these matters Daniel P. Horan .OFM has written on Franciscan the-ology, philosophy, and spirituality. He writes from Holy Name College; 1650 Saint Camillus Drive; Silver Spring, Maryland 20903. Review for Religious in what we may call the "digital age," we must look first at what unites us in faith and then at how our changing world affects that unity. What Is Koinonia? Early in the Acts of the Apostles, we are told that members of the nascent Christian community "devoted thems'elves to the apostles' teaching and fellowship (koinonia), to the breaking of bread and the prayers" (Ac 2:42). In Greek, koinonia was one of the marks of Christian identity, but what does it mean? It literally means "communal-ness" (community, communion, "in common") and thus fellowship. In the Christian con-text, however, this is more than club mem . bership or casual social connections. The New Testament scholar Luke Timothy Johnson sug-gests that this under-standing of koinonia includes our unity in Christ, which explains how the Christian com-munity was able to maintain unity amid the ~hallenges it faced in the first centuries. In a 1999 lecture at St. Louis University, Johnson offered four aspects of this Christian fellow-ship: fellowship among persons, in writing, in material resources, and in convictions.1 Even in diverse cultures, regions, and languages, Christianity was unified through these four aspects of koinonia. The fellowship among persons is seen in the way net-works of New Testament figures, including the apostles The fellowship in writing is most clearly seen in the way .that. early Christian texts,. were shared among the early believers~ [231 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Cburcb in the Digital Age and their successors, helped to unify the various com-munities of believers. Johnson believes that these per-sonal connections helped to maintain coherence in the early Christian movement. The fellowship in writing is most clearly seen in the way that early Christian texts, which would later be canonized as Scripture, were shared among the early believers in different locations. The exchange of these compositions, sometimes letters and sometimes longer narratives, concretized the common experience of the life and ministry of Jesus Christ. The communal reflec-tion on these compositions proved to be an important means of developing koinonia. The fellowship in material resources united the first Christians in a seemingly calculable way that was under-stood more deeply as symbolizing a spiritual connec-tion with other believers. We see in both the Acts of the Apostles and in the Letters of Paul references to offerings for the benefit of the local community ("no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common," Ac 4:32), and the greater Christian community spread throughout the land ("conc+rning the collection for the saints., on the first day of every week, each of you is to put aside and save whatever extra you earn," 1 Co 16:1-2). Sharing financial resources represented spiritual koinonia. The last form of fellowship is that in convictions. Johnson notes that in the New Testament we see con-flicts arising over interpretations of some mat(ers, but that some convictions are never contested. Three of these are monotheism (identifying the one God as the God of the Torah), knowledge that Jesus was human and died, and belief that Jesus was now living with God and would share in God's triumph in the future. Review for Religious All four forms of koinonia that Johnson highlights contribute to the unity amid diversity in the early.church. We see that they have continued to unite the church. The Possibility of Digita! Koinonia With the understanding that this fourfold koinonia continues even today, we can now look at how it relates to us in our technologically advanced and technologically permeated world. It seems there is nothing that does not have a digital or virtual counterpart: Much of today's communication takes place on the Internet in such sites as Facebook and MySpace. Interacting in a completely digital environment where simple laws of nature, com-mon social mores, and geographical limits are no longer applicable is becoming more common through programs like SecondLife. These new forms of communication and social interaction allow the users to create, modify, and experiment with their identities in unprecedented ways. These new "identities" can participate in what are often called "online communities." Is it possible then to express koinonia in a digital format, to have "church" or a community of believers come together in an authentic way online? It would seem at first glance to be a possibility. The clearest congruency between koinonia and the digital age is likely found within the context 6f the fel-lowship among persons. The Second Vatican Council's Dogmatic Constitution on the Church, Lumen gen-tium, says: "All of the faithful, scattered though they be throughout the. world, are in communion with each other in the Holy Spirit" (LG §13).2 Earlier in Lumen gentium we are told that the church "transcends all limits of time and confines of race [and is] destined to extend to all regions of the earth" (LG §9). Transcending the 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age boundaries of temporality and human differences sug-gests that connecting and communicating with others through digital media and the Internet is indeed a con-temporary manifestation of fellowship among persons. Additionally, the "blog" (short for "weblog") and other digital media make written compositions and reflections on normative religious texts more read-ily available. Even in graduate theological schools, the ubiquity of technologies such as BlackBoard or WebCT has reshaped the way students of Scripture and theology read about, reflect on, and share their faith. It would seem that Christians are no longer limited to parish Bible study, adult catechesis, or other forms of faith-sharing face to face. Instead, thecommunica(ion of biblical and theological reflection now transcends the previous spatial and temporal boundaries. You can read about, reflect on, and share your faith at any time and from nearly any place. The fellowship in material resources in contempo-rary Christian communities occurs largely by way of the Internet. Technology enables the faithful to share their material resources directly or indirecdy with other communities at the click of a computer mouse. When natural disaster, crime, or war affects the people of God on any continent or at any time, the Internet has allowed Christians to assist others instantaneously. This has been the case in recent years with aid to victims of the Indian Ocean tsunami of 2004 and victims of hur-ricane Katrina in New Orleans in 2005. The sharing of material resources in these instances also represents the spiritual unity of the people of God, spread around the world though they are. The final dimension of koinonia that Johnson has highlighted for us, fellowship in convictions, can also be for Reli#ous seen in the new technologies of the digital age. From the beginning of the Internet, digital "communities" formed to share ideas and information. Early on, this occurred in what were called "chat rooms" and "message boards," where one could connect with others and contribute to a continuing conversation about a particular subject. Today the successors to those early formats might be Facebook "groups" and personal blogs. Centered on commonly held beliefs and convictions, these digital "spaces" allow people to connect with others without regard to temporal or geographic boundaries. Given the apparent compatibility of Luke Johnson's fourfold definition of koinonia with the technological advances of our digital age, it seems we could advocate a form of "digital koinonia." There remains, however, a piece of the puzzle that is not accounted for in this digital koinonia. The church is not united in this form of fellowship alone, but is also a Eucharistic community. From Facebook to Eucharist However great the possibilities for increasing koi-nonia among the Christian faithful, we must recall the passage from Acts cited above wherein the community was also devoted to the breaking of the bread. Cardinal Walter Kasper, in his book That They May All Be One,3 reminds us that the church is not simply an organization or club in which we have become some sort of mem-ber, and that we are brought into participation in the mystery of Christ as a part of Christ's Body through the sacrament of baptism. The participation--the set of relationships we enter through baptism and maintain through koinonia--comes to what Kasper calls "the summit," namely, participation in the Eucharist, a theme from Sacrosanctum concilium, 69.3 2010 Horan ¯ Koinonia and the Church in the Digital Age the council's Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy. In this light we can understand Christian koinonia as being both a communal or material unity and a sacramental unity. Kasper is in line with Johnson's fourfold koinonia, but reminds us that this koinonia is inherently sacramental, rooted in our shared baptism and Eucharist. Understanding koinonia as being fundamentally sac-ramental while also communal, we see two sets of rela-tionship in the church's koinonia, The first one Kasper calls the horizontal dimension of koinonia. It is what we have seen in Johnson's fourfold framework: fellow- - ship among persons, . , ~ in writing, in material resources, and in con-viction. The second set Kasper describes as the vertical dimension: the explicitly sacramental fellowship of believers, who in baptism are united to Christ and thus brought into the life of the Trinity. This dimension, the vertical or sac-ramental, cannot be replicated on Facebook, MySpace, SecondLife, or any other technological medium. People cannot have their SecondLife avatar baptized online and cannot participate in the celebration of the Eucharist online either. In light of the ideas of'Luke Timothy Johnson and Cardinal Walter Kasper and in line with the vision of the Second Vatican Council, the church in this digital age of ours is clearly aided in living its koinonia, but not, of course, in the matter of baptism and the Eucharist, with their water, bread, and wine. The horizontal dimension We can understand Christian koinonia as being both a communal or material unity and a sacramental unity,° 236 Review for Religious of koinonia could very likely benefit from more engage-ment with online technologies that transcend some of the usual limits of place and time. At the same time, there is a need to move beyond this digital koinonia to fully include the sacramental and vertical dimension in the celebration of baptism and Eucharist. Had Jesus "friended" the Apostles on Facebook, he would have veryqikely sent an "e-vite" to each one for an in-person gathering shortly thereafter. Notes ~ Luke Timothy Johnson, "Koinonia: Diversity and Unity in Early Christianity," Theology Digest 46 (1999): 303-313. 2 All references to conciliar documents are to Vatican Council II, ed. Austin Flannery OP (New York: Costello Publishing, 1992). 3 Walter Kasper, That They May All Be One: The Call To Unity Today (New York: Continuum, 2004). Questions for Personal Reflection and Group Study 1. In what ways do you experience koinonia in today's church? 2. How do you see technology impacting the way we live out our call to Christian discipleship? Are there other positive or negative dimensions associated with this reality? 3. What are the ways we might better use technology to support authentic communion within the Christian community today? 23.7 69.3 2010 HEDWIG LEWIS Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 23,8 ~reOvarle daStt intuotd oens.l yI nc o2m0m06u,n tihcaet es lmanega n"icnogo blu"t walasso said to be the most popular word of the year. It had acquired a new set of meanings and suggested a specific mindset. The word, however, did not affect Jesuits: they were warming up for a general congregation (GC35) to be held in early 2008. When it was finally in session, the delegates wanted to set the world on fire. A special decree (D2) defined the Jesuit as a "man on fire" at the frontiers of humanity. Decree Three (D3) is tided "Challenges to Our Mission Today: Sent to the Frontiers." "Frontiers" became the theme of several docu-ments and the new buzzword of the Jesuits. It is no longer just a romantic term, but has evoked enthusiasm and captured Jesuit imaginations. It has become popular also among other religious worldwide.~ Hedwig Lewis SJ writes again from St. Xavier's College; P.B. 4168; Ahmedabad 380 009; India. His website is http://joygift.tripod.com. Review for Religious Understanding Frontiers The word frontier has varied meanings: the edge of empires, a place for adventure and heroism, technologi-cal testing for new industries, conquest or rich cultural exchange. In Europe it refers simply to the boundaries between nations. The colonies the Europeans established in the rest of the world became, first of all, European societies and cultures on farther frontiers. In the United States the frontier, in history and popular culture, has meant the setting for adventure and prosperity, valor and villainy. The national character is seen as having been forged in the trials and triumphs of life on the frontier. The pioneer experience supposedly pf0duced the best traits of the American people--their tenacity, individualism, love of democracy, patriotism, inventive-ness, and much more. Many historians today question such views, but few would deny that "frontier," broadly understood, has had an influence not only in North America but in the rest of the world as well. The expansion of European peo-ples brought a variety of complicated changes to human society and to the physical world itself. The frontier was an unsetding force--socially, culturally, politically, and ecologically) No longer just a geographic term implying some restrictions, "frontier" is also used in referring intel-lectual aiad scientific advances and ideological visions. Today "ideas, information, merchandise, technology, and capital circulate freely; persons also circulate, though with many more restrictions. Frontiers have become porous, and in many cases they have disappeared. The world has become multireligious and multicultural. There is no longer a notion of Christendom with delim-ited frontiers beyond which lies mission territory.''3 69.3 2010 Lewis * Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far A New Concept of Frontier Decree Three of GC35 redefines frontier accord-ing to. the interpretation Pope Benedict xvI gave it in his allocution to GC35. It implies "geographical and spiritual ,places where others do not reach or find it dif-ficult to reach . The obstacles challenging those who announce the gospel are no longer seas and vast dis-tances; rather they are the boundar-ies of a superficial vision of God and of man, which place obstacles in the way of faith and human knowledge, faith and science, faith and the commitment to justice.''4 The new frontiers exist everywhere, and we are sent to the frontiers with the very concrete mission of open-ing up passes and of "building bridges" between those who live on pne side of the frontier and those who live on the other. What is more, we are asked to be our-selves "bridges in a fragmented world" (D3 17). The frontiers have to be recognized in their variety and diversity. "The frontier is everywhere--in cyber-space, in the inner space of retreats and counseling, in the depths of depression from infirmity, in the homes that have been broken by separation or misunderstand-ing, in the midst of the secularized globalized post, modern world, in old places that call for new ways of speaking God's word. It is anywhere and everywhere that the joy and peace of the Good News is still not felt. And we are asked to go there, and 'our mode of proceeding is to trace the footprints of God. know-ing that the Spirit of Christ is at work in all places Frontiers have to be recognized in their varietyand diversity: 240 Review for Religious and situations.' . . . We turn also to the 'frontier' of the earth, increasingly degraded and plundered. Here, with passion for environmental justice, we shall meet once again the Spirit of God seeking to liberate a suf-fering creation, which demands of us space to live and breathe" (D2 10&24).s On the spiritual front, particularly for Ignatian spiriZ tuality, "~e frontiers are in giving Spiritual Exercises to every kind of person. There are frontiers in constructing an I'gnatian spirituality that can energize political action and, a renewed evangelization of faithful Christians. And there are ~frontiers in places: Moscow, for instance, and the virtual place called the web. There are older fr.on-tiers too: each human hea~;t that has to decide to follow and serve Christ the ¯K' in"g6. Jesm" t s"pirituality, because it is holistic and inclusive, "sustains the Jesuit at individual and collective, personal and strg.ctural levels for collabo-ration and networking at all levels--provincial and uni-versal in an attitude of solidarity . Jesuits are invited to build a new future in Christ for a 'globalization in solidarity, a globalization without marginalization.'''7 Those who "really try to listen" to, the Spirit end up in strange, surprising places!''s Jesuit Frontiersmen ~ Since the-foundation of the Society of Jesus, Jesuits have considered themselves frontiersmen and pioneers in .the proclamation of the faith. Pope. Benedict alluded to this in his allocution: "In its history; the Society of Jesus has lived extraordinary experiences of proclama-tion and encounter between the gospel and world cul-tures- it suffices to think of Matteo Ricci in China, Roberto De Nobili in India, or the 'Reductions' in Latin America. And you are very rightly, proud of them. I feel 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 242 it is my duty today to urge you to set out once again in the tracks of your predecessors with the same cour-age and intelligence, but also with an equally profound motivation of faith and enthusiasm to serve the Lord and his church." He was echoing the words of his predecessor Pope Paul vI, who spoke of ~'crossroads" and "the front line" when he addressed GC32 in 1975: "Wherev.er in the church, even in the most difficult and exposed fields, in the Erossroads of ideologies, in the social trenches, there has been or is confrontation between the burning exigencies of humanity and the perennial message of the gospel, there have been and are the Jesuits," The Jesuit historian John O'Malley, writing about "the first Jesuits," said that their ."ministries and how they went about them were quintessential to the Jesuits' self-definition" of being frontiersmen. In their minis-tries, Jesuits excluded no person or place in the world. They operated at the edges of life: they preached, taught catechism., proposed _n_ew liturgical practices, and sought to .help orphans, prostitutes, prisoners, and people in hospitals. They were simultaneously writing plays, teaching in universities~ and acting as theologians at the Council of Trent. Within seven years of their papal approval, they founded and operated schools.9 Today our mission is to, go with both spiritual vigor and intellectual rigor to the "new frontiers" where we learn again that our "Jesuit identity [and mission] are relational; they grow in and through our diversities of culture, nationalities, and languages, enriching and chal-lenging us" (D2 19).1° In keeping with their vocation, therefore, Jesuits are sent beyond all frontiers "to serve faith, promote jus-tice, and dialogue with cultures and religions. The basis Review for Religious for reconciliation is Luke 4:18-19, which announces the good news to the poor, the release of captives, the recovery of sight by the blind, and freedom for the oppressed. In proclaiming God's message of love and compassion, Jesus crosses over physical and socio-religious frontiers. In the same manner, Jesuits are invited to preach the kingdom to those living outside their physical and spiritual frontiers: tax col-lectors; prostitutes; sin-ners; refugees; displaced; trafficked; women; chil- ,To cr, gss frontlers demands a strongfaith, courage, ,open ness others, and a willingness to take risks. dren; minorities; outcasts; indigenous peoples; victims of communal, caste, and ethnic violence; and persons of all kinds who are marginalized and excluded.''~l The frontiers are difficult and often uncomfort-able places. They provide none of the security of one's home turf and often require excursions, into unfamiliar or even uncharted territory. To cross frontiers demands a strong faith, courage, openness to others, and a will-ingness to take risks. It requires the ability to adapt the message of Christ and his church to cultural, linguistic, and religious realities that work with altogether differ-ent categories and reference points, as modeled by some of the great Jesuit missionaries of the past.~2 '.'Going to the frontiers," Father Adolfo Nicolfis pointed out, "means study, research, entering into the life of the people, soli-darity, empathy, inculturation, and respect for others. Going to the whole world turns out to be more difficult than we had thought. We feel like children. Perhaps we have discovered the kingdom of God.''~3 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far Father Peter-Hans Kolvenbach, when asked to define "catholic" by Georgetown University trustees visiting Rome in May 2007, replied, "I have always understood 'catholic' to mean bringing the experience of those at the frontiers of the church's mission back to renew the center.''14 For the effectiveness of our mission, we need to carefully "discern" the frontiers. This demands "three important qualities: creativity, daring, and great humil-ity!" according to Father Nicolfis. "Every Jesuit work, be it in justice, spirituality, educati6n, or whatever, should ask the question, 'How are we at the frontiers?'''is That is what this article addresses. The full mean-ing and scope of "frontiers" will take much research and extensive reflection. This is, then, an introductory study from three perspectives: (1) interior frontiers, which involve (2) spiritual frontiers and (3) outreach frontiers. 244 Interior Frontiers Saints have implied that the spiritual life is the adven-ture of crossing interior psychological frontiers to reach the ever expanding horizons of the soulscape. Spiritual life always involves letting go so .that, unburdened by self-seeking, one can go forward in communion with the divine. This adventure entails a striving to compre-hend "the 'breadth, and length, and depth, and height" of Christ's love (Ep 3:18). In this regard, and with regard to the papal definition, frontiers envisage inscape and landscape--the personal and the social, the vertical, horizontal, and panoramic reaches within one's power with the help of divine grace. Frontiers can envision our environs, our neighborhood--its breadth and length-- and those living on the edge or at the fringes of our neighborhood or our society. Frontiers can include depth Revieva for Religious and height, interior knowledge that grows and expands to vision and ideals, to community and commitment. As religious men and women, committed to this journey of the soul, we are called to be "bridge-builders" on all fronts. To be effective in this mission of bridging, we have to grow unceasingly in our familiarity with the "territories" at both ends, the spiritual and the worldly. "The church is in urgent need of people of solid and deep faith, of a serious culture and a genuine human and social sensitivity, of religious who devote their lives to stand on those frontiers in order to witness and help to understand that there is in fact a profound harmony between faith and reason, between evangelical spirit, thirst for justice, and action for peace.''16 This spiritual adventure has'its own thrill and attraction. With our inner vision set on new~ and farther horizons that our Lord graciously opens up for zealous seekers, the path is "straight and narrow" (Mr 7:13-14), but along it there are obstacles and frontiers. For those disposed toward Ignatian spirituality, any discussion on "frontiers, will inevitably involve the magis, the openness to being and doing more. "We must discern our mission according to the criteria of the magis and the more universal good" (D2 22). The magis challenges one toward seeking greater depth rather than wider avenues, non multa sed multum (not many but much). The spirit of the magis transforms us into fron-tier persons, desiring to find themselves called to what is greater and better. St. Ignatius, "the pilgrim," explored the dark inte-riors of the cave of his heart before he undertook the journey to Jerusalem to "save souls." His Autobiography describes how the journey inward meant resisting dev-ilish pirates and surviving death-threatening squalls in [ 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far order to cross the frontiers to peaceful havens. An exam-ple from more recent times is that of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, who indicates in her "private writings" that for the last fifty years of her life she had struggled pain-fully to feel God's presence. Through her "dark night of the soul," neverthe- The Ignatian magis brooks no comfoi't zones; it expands ou~ horizons and opens up ever-new frontiers within the heart and the world around it. less, she shone forth as an extraordinary woman of faith, who continued crossing frontiers of a more ordinary kind. The Ignatian magis brooks no comfort zones; it expands our horizons and opens up ever-new frontiers within the heart and the world around it. Only Love can satisfy our inner craving for fulfillment: Love of God, love of self, love for others. Only unconditional love breaks barriers and enables us to cross over life's various frontiers. We will reach the last frontier only when "the soul feels sat-isfied." But this will happen only with our dying breath, for, .as Augustine tells us, our hearts are resdess till they rest in God. 246 Geography of Prayer/Spiritual Frontiers To assist us in our "restless striving" to cross spir-itual frontiers, St. Ignatius has given us his Spiritual Exercises. "One tries to find one's way to the place where one desires to pray now and, when I find my way to that place, I try to stay there 'until I have been satis-fied' before moving on to a new place." This method Review for Religious applies to where I place my body (in the literal sense) and where I give my attention. This discipline of seek-ing the place of my heart's desire and trying to stay there until I have been satisfied makes a powerful disci-pline for living ordinary life as well as for finding guid-ance in prayer. A Jesuit has written: "When I pray, I pay attention to where I am (geographically, professionally, tempo-rally). I try to follow the lead of my inner disturbances (Ignatius's word for consolations or desolations), which can help me find my way to where I desire to meet, and be met by, God. If I pay attention to where I place myself in the world and where my life circumstances place me, my place in the world becomes grace for me. I can form a habit of asking whether I am called to remain in that place or whether I am called to find my way to a new place. 'Place' here can mean a given neighborhood, a particular job, a professional organization, an informal network of friends, and so forth.''~7 Familiarity with this "inner geography" helps us translate our prayer into our ministry as contemplatives in action. Hence we need to deepen our interior lives so as to better integrate our vision and mission as fron-tiersmen. Without a demanding and vigorous interior life, we allow ourselves to let go of the "contempla-. tive" side of our lives, forgetting that "in what we do in the world there must always be transparency to God" (GC35 D2 10). Without seeking and finding the paths of interiority which the Spirit of God oPens up if we are docile, we rian the risk that our apostolic generosity will wither, the meaning of our strongest commitments will become confused. Without seeking God with our inner eyes, we do not recognize how God is working in our efforts. We are likely to stop making them.~8 247 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 248 Outreach Frontiers Frontiers "beyond geographical definitions await us, 'nations' that today include those who are poor and dis-placed, those who are profoundly lonely, those who ignore God's existence, and those who use God as an instrument for political purposes. Thereare new 'nations,' and we have been sent to them (D2 22). At the frontier, then, we encounter the tragedies of poverty, hunger, thirst, pain, and death--a world in need. But this discovery need not discourage us, for we also discover that God is already there at work, and God will accompany us. Be.cause God is already there, Jesuits and their collaborators will receive new energy and new life, even when mingled with anguish where 'the Divinity'is hidden.'" 19 "Ignatius and his first companions understood the importance of reaching out to people on the frontiers and at the center of society, of reconciling those who were estranged in any way. From the center in Rome, Ignatius sent Jesuits to the frontiers, to th~ new world, 'to announce the Lord to peoples and cultures that did not know him as yet.' He sent Xavier to the Indies. Thousands of Jesuits followed, preaching the gospel to many cultures, sharing knowledge with and learning from others. He also wanted Jesuits to cross other types of frontiers between rich and poor, between educated and unlearned. He wrote a letter to the Jesuits at the Council of Trent on how to behave, and insisted that they should minister to the sick. Jesuits opened colleges in Rome and in the great cities, of Europe, and they taught children in villages across the world" (D3 15). The metaphor of bridge-building is used often' in D3, "signaling a desire to link thoroughgoing incul, turation to a commitment to dialogue. The.strategy proposed is clear: Go to the frontiers, immerse your- Review for Religious selves in the cultures you encounter, and share in the conversation. These orientations are to drive Jesuit and Ignatian activity in the postmodern era.''2° "This tradition of Jesuits building bridges across frontiers becomes crucial in the context of today's world. We become able to bridge the divisions of a fragmented world only if we remember and live from three Ignatian principles: the love of God our Lord, the union of minds and hearts reflected in the personal bond of Francis Xavier and Ignatius across the seas, and the obedience that sends each one of us in mission to any part of this world" (D3 17). The "universal mission" of the Society of Jesus flows from Ignatius's vision at La Storta. He would "deploy Jesuits in a wide variety of apostolic ministries around the world. Jesuits were to go where the need was great-est, other religious were not already there, the good to be achieved was wide and deep, and their service would better society0while giving glory to God (see Constitutions SJ §622).''2~ Christ-centered Many tasks may call on us urgently, but we know that it is not only urgent tasks that define the Society's missions: "it is Christ's mission, of which we desire to be the servants, that is our urgency.''z2 Pope Benedict, in his recent encyclical Caritas in veritate (§20) empha-sized this IZhristic orientation behind all human endeav-ors toward social change for a better world: It is Christ's charity that drives us on: "caritas Christi urget nos" (2 Co 5:14). The urgency is inscribed not only in things, it is not derived solely from the rapid succession of events ahd problems, but also from the very matter that is at stake: the establishment of authen- [249 69.3 2010 Lewis * Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far Our o treach programs must begin from the heart, tic fraternity. The importance of this goal is such as to demand our openness to understand it in depth and to mobilize ourselves at the level of the "heart," so as to ensure that current economic and social processes evolve towards fully human outcomes. Our outreach programs, then, must begin, from the heart._ This demands that we be person-centered rather than project-oriented. Our service must touch hearts. In this outreach we will encounter personal and social frontiers, as" Christ did, but we must cross them all to get to people's hearts; for the kingdom, coming from within God's heart, is within. "The crossing of frontiers is a larger human experi-ence and is not only a matter of religious frontiers. An open church willing to relate to the world, the larger society, and many types of identities will increasingly face the question of how to go about the reality of frontiers. It is the modern version of the question of love of neighbor . Traditional Christian rec-onciliation has to express itself today in the way we face complicated frontiers and boundaries and how we cross over and reach out. :. By negotiating the frontiers and communing across them, Christians will continuously discover new dimensions of their own faith identity. ¯ Much of the Christian future lies on the periphery, in the frontier-zones. Encounter with new identities need not signify a threat to a church that understands itself as universal because it is a communion in difference.''23 "Jesus, in his outreach, embraced difference and new horizons. His ministry transcended boundaries. Review for Religious He invited his disciples to be aware of God's action in places and people they were inclined to avoid: Zacchaeus, a Syro-Phoenician woman, Roman centurions, a repen-tant thief. As water bringing life to all who thirst, he showed himself interested in every parched area of the world; and in every parched area of the world he can thus be welcomed, for all who are thirsty can understand what living water means. This image of living water can give life to all Jesuits as servants of Christ in his mission because, having tasted this water themselves, they will be eager to offer it to anyone who thirsts and to reach out to people beyond frontiers--where water may not yet have welled up--to bring a new culture of dialogue to a rich, diverse, and multifaceted world" (D2 12). The Gospels offer a vivid insight into Christ's modus operandi in his healing ministry. "Look at any healing story: the way Jesus heals the paralyzed man brought in by his friends through the roof; the leper; the woman with the issue of blood. Jesus first responds to a concrete, immediate need: the healing of a sickness. But then he goes on to respond to a deeper need: the burden of guilt or the sense of hopelessness or rejec-tion and isolation. Finally he goes deeper still and offers what they long for most, often without knowing it: the gift of the kingdom of God, of friendship with a God of unconditional love, in a way that transforms them at the core of their persons.''24 "In proclaiming God's message of love and com-passion, Jesus crossed over physical and socioreligious frontiers. His message of reconciliation was preached both to the people of Israel and to those living outside its physical and spiritual frontiers: tax collectors, prostitutes, sinners, and persons of all kinds who are marginalized and excluded. His ministry of reconciliation with God 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far and with one another knew no boundaries. He spoke to the powerful, challenging them to a change of heart. He showed special love for the sinner, the poor widow, and the lost sheep. The kingdom of God which he constantly preached became a vision for a world where all relation-ships are reconciled in God. Jesus confronted the powers that oppose this kingdom, and that opposition led him to death on the cross, a death which he freely accepted in keeping with his mission. On the cross we see all his words and actions revealed as expressions of the final reconciliation effected by the Crucified and Risen Lord, through whom comes the new creation in which all rela-tionships will be set right in God" (D3 14). Words from the Heart We often fall short of being imitators of Christ in our frontier ministries. Our very words betray our attitudes: we "plan," "coordinate," "organize," mostly at the head level. "These are organizational verbs, very important, necessary for moving ahead," Father Adolfo Nicolfis noted. He added that in contrast, when Jesus commis-sioned his disciples to ministry, his words revealed the heart of it. He used "verbs of life, verbs of giving life": preach the gospel to the poor, heal the sick, cleanse the lepers, expel demons, raise the dead. This clearly indicates that "the mission of God in Jesus, the business he is about, is making life flow more abundantly for humanity wherever it is lacking or blocked. And the real secret of mission is not to get rid' of the organizational verbs or the gospel verbs, but to somehow make the organizational actions that we have to perform expres-sions of the life-giving actions of the gospel.''2s Words are symbolic. When we set out with the mindset of Christ to discern "how we are at the fron- Review for Re.ligious tiers," is our definitiofi of "frontiers" congru.ent with that of the Church and the Socie,ty? Does the spirit of the magis urge us to seek and find God's presence everywhere--across the frontiers, deep and high, near and far? Notes 1 Adolfo Nicolas sJ, "Challenges and Issues in Jesuit Education," keynote address on the 150th anniversary of Jesuit education in the Philippines, Ateneo de Manila University, 13 July 2009. 2 Elliott West, Frontier, Grolier Online. 3 Marcos Recolons SJ, "What's New in the Decree on Mission?" Promotio Iustitiae 98-99 (2008/1): 18. 4 Pope Benedict XVI, allocution to the delegates of GC35, 21 February 2008. s Josd C.J. Magadia SJ, homily for the celebration of the 50th Anniversary of the Philippine Province, 27 July 2008. 6 Joseph Tetlow SJ, "At the Frontiers," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 95 (2000): 17. 7 Joseph Marianus Kuiur SJ, "Sent to the Frontiers--Decree on Mission," Jivan (August 2008): 4-6. s Nicol~is, "Challenges and Issues." 9 John O'Malley sJ, The First Jesuits (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1993), pp. 3 and 18. 10 Paul L. Locatelli SJ, "To Be Sent: Mission, Frontiers, and Contemplative Action," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 119 (2008/3): 27. 1~ Kuiur, "Sent to the Frontiers." 12 Len Altilia SJ, "The Inspiration for Frontiers," Frontiers 1, no. 1, online. 13 John Borelli SJ, "Frontiers of Dialogue for Discovery and Renewal," National Jesuit News (November 2008). 14 Borelli, "Frontiers of Dialogue." ~s Adolfo Nicolas SJ, "Jesuit Mission Today," address to Jesuits and friends at Gonzaga College, Ireland, 12 September 2009. 16 Pope Benedict XVI, allocution. 17 John Staudenmaier sJ "The Inner Geography of Prayer in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius," UDMcasts on the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, The University of Detroit Mercy, Detroit, 7 March 2007. 69.3 2010 Lewis ¯ Beyond Frontiers, Deep and High, Near and Far 18 Franqois-Xavier Dumortier SJ, "The Same Path as Ignatius," Review of Ignatian Spirituality 119 (2008). , ,9 Locatelli, "To ~Be Sent," p. 33. 20 Adria~ Lyons SJ, "From Centre to Frontiers," Province Express, Australia, 28 May 2008. 21 Locatelli, "To Be Sent," p. 27. 22 Dumortier, "The Same Path." 23 Felix Wilfred, "Introduction: The Art of Negotiating the Frontiers," Concilium, 1999/2. 24 Nicokis, "Challenges and Issues." 2s Nicolfis, "Challenges and Issues." Equinox 254 I was once certain of so many things Certain of light and dark life and death f!'lled and empty hatred and love I was once certain of so many things But grief broke me open and they tumbled out as one jumbled mess Certainty tumbled out among them. Kathleen Atkinson OSB Review for Religious JUDITH METZ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross In the back flyleaf of her prayer book, Elizabeth Bayley Seton wrote a modification of the Anima Christi: Soul of Jesus sanctify me Blood of Jesus wash me Passion of Jesus comfort me Wounds of Jesus hide me Heart of Jesus receive me Spirit of Jesus enliven me Goodness of Jesus pardon me Beauty of Jesus draw me Humility of Jesus humble me Peace of Jesus pacify me Love of Jesus inflame me Kingdom of Jesus come to me Grace of Jesus replenish me Mercy of Jesus pity me Sanctity of Jesus sanctify me Purity of Jesus purify me Cross of Jesus support me Judith Metz SC is the archivist and historian for the Sisters of Charity of Cincinnati. Her address is 5900 Delhi Road; Mount St. Joseph, Ohio 45051. models of spirituality. 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Nails of Jesus hold me in life, in death - in time and Eternity - in the hour of Death defend me, call me to come to thee, receive me with thy Saints in glory everlasting.I Elizabeth loved this prayer, writing several paraphrases of it as she contemplated at various times the outpour-ing of Jesus' love in his suffering and death. From when she was young, her spirituality found a focus in his love, shown in his giving of himself, in his willingness to suf-fer for us--and in her wish to return this love. Her father gave her a cross which she often wore, remarking that she loved it "as the mark of my Captain and Master whom I was to follow so valiantly" (3a:514). There are many references in her letters and journals to this cross, such as: "looked at my crucifix"; "Calvary is the rendezvous"; "we must be crucified." As she was nursing her dying husband, she wrote: "Not only willing to take up my cross but kissed it too" (l:257).During a tumultuous time after her return to New York, Elizabeth observed: "When people say 'so much trouble has turned her br~in' - well, I kiss my crucifix, which I have loved for so many years, and say 'they are only mistaken'" (1:401). People sometimes comment that they find little affinity with St. Elizabeth Seton because her spirituality seems negative. For them she dwells so much on suf-fering and the cross--on joy at embracing hardship in imitation of Jesus--that her spirituality does not attract them. ~ Yet the imitation of Christ must be the center of every Christian life. Holy people through the ages have shown us by their lives that the more people recognize God's outpouring love, demonstrated by Christ's sacri-fice on the cross, the more they need to imitate that self-giving love: "If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, Review for Religious let him renounce himself and take up his cross and fol-. low me. For anyone who wants to save his life will lose it; but :anyone who loses his life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it" (Mk 8:34-35). Although Ignatius Loyola did not write the Anima Christi, which we have already reflected on, he placed it at the beginning of his Spiritual Exercises and often referred to it. And he did write the Suscipe that most of us are familiar with: ."Take, Lord, ~ receive all my liberty, my mem-ory, my understanding, my entire will; all that I have and possess." In her lnterior Castle, Teresa of Avila observed: "His Majesty could not grant us a greater favor than to give us a life that would be an imitation of the life his beloved Son lived. Thus I hold for certain that these favors are meant to fortify our weakness., that we may be able to imitate him in his great sufferings." Like these great saints, Elizabeth Seton was also com-mitted to living in imitation of Jesus. She wrote in her Journal: "The cup which our Father has given Us, shall we not drink it? Blessed Savior, by the bitterness of thy pains We may estimate the force of thy love . . . and therefore, if thou so ordainest it, welcome disappointment and pov-erty; welcome sickness and pain -welcome even shame, and contempt, and calumny. If this be a rough and thorny path, it is one which thou hast gone before us. Where we see thy footsteps we cannot repine" (3b:21). Elizabeth was able to enter into Jesus' life, to expe-rience his outpouring love in the events of the passion narratives, in a way that made them very real and rele-vant to her life. She recognized that Christ's story was her Elizabeth Seton was O mitted t0 living in ,imitation of ]esus: 69.3 2010 258 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton °s Spirituality of the Cross story. Her part was to enter into her own life and joyfully embrace the cross as a way of being in union with her beloved. She experienced overwhelming gratitude at what Christ had done for her, and she knew that her response must be to "drink the cup" and be "baptized with the baptism" of which Jesus spoke. This spirituality of hers permeated her prayer and supported her through many difficult times. One of these was the month she spent in the lazaretto with her desper-ately ill husband and young daughter upon their arrival at Livorno, Italy, in November 1803. She described the experience to her dearly loved sister-in-law Rebecca Seton: "You could not rest in your bed if you saw [me] as [I am] sitting in one corner of an immense Prison bolted in and barred with as much ceremony as any monster of mischief might be - a single window double grated with iron thro' which, if I should want anything, I am to call a sentinel, with a fierce cocked hat, and long rifle gun." "On the ship-mattresses spread on the cool floor my Willy and Anna are sound asleep, and I ~trust that God, who has given him strength through a day of such exertion will carry us on - He is our all indeed -. God is with us - and if sufferings abound in us,his consolations also greatly abound, and far exceed all utterance." "What shall we say - this is the hour of trial, the Lord support and strengthen us in it. Retrospections being anguish - press forward toward the mark and prize" (1:251,253,254). As the Setons passed their weeks, of quarantine, Elizabeth strove to keep her equilibrium by prayer and her "hidden Treasures,;--her Bible, commentaries, ser-mons, and The Imitation of Christ ~that she had carried with her from New York. She poured out her heart in her Journal, where she lamented time and again how she "read, prayed, we.pt, and prayed again" (1:256,257,265). Review for Religious But as she contemplated her situation she was also able to note: "Not only willing to take up my cross but kissed it too . I find my present opportunity a Treasure - and my confinement of Body a liberty of Soul which I may never again enjoy whilst they are united . If I could forget my God one moment at this time I should go mad -but he hushes all - Be still and know that I am God your Father" (1:257,258). With the passing days William Seton's health con-tinued to worsen so that by 5 December a doctor was called. Though he feared that Elizabeth's beloved hus-band "might be gone in a few hours," he continued to hold on. On 14 December, Elizabeth wrote: "The damp-ness about us would be thought dangerous for a pdrson in health, and my W's sufferings - Oh well I know that God is above. Capitano,. if I thought our condition the providence of man, instead of the 'weeping Magdalene' as you so graciously call me, you would find me a lioness willing to burn your Lazaretto about your ears . But O my Heavenly Father I know that these contradictory events are permitted and guided by thy Wisdom, which only is light" (1:270,271). Released from their confinement on 19 December, the lit-de family traveled to lodgings in Pisa. On Chrisunas Day Elizabeth put a little wine in a glass and said differ-ent portions of psalms and prayers which she had marked in her books, hoping for a happy moment. "We took the cup of Thanksgiving setting aside the sorrow of time, in the views of the joy of Eternity," she noted (1:273). Elizabeth then began the deathbed vigil that ended two days later. She recorded, "On Tuesday morning 27th December - [William's] soul was released - and mine from a struggle next to death." She continued, "In all this it is not necessary to dwell on the mercy and consoling 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of tbe Cross 260 presence of my dear Redeemer, for no mortal strength could support what I experienced" (1:274,275). The tears, prayers, and anguish Elizabeth suffered during her long watch with her sick and dying husbandincreased her trust in God and led her to a deeper identification with her suffering Savior. Her experiences became a part of her spirituality. Her continued trust in Divine Providence during her remaining time in Italy led her along paths that she could not have imagined. Impressed with the Catholic faith and practices of her Italian hosts, the Episcopalian Elizabeth entered into a long and anguished discernment over whether to remain in the church of her birth or to join the Catholic Church. For nearly a year she considered the argu-ments on each side, trying to listen to the voice of God. Longing for support and advice, she wrote to her Italian friend Antonio Filicchi: "Judge of my disappointment when only a few lines [from you] rewarded my anxious anticipations - however, at. the foot of my cross I found consolation, and kissing it over and over I repeated and repeat, there only I am never disappointed" (1:326). Elizabeth's uncertainty seemed to grow through the months, and she wrote of being "half dead with the inward struggle" (1:372). Yet, she confided to Antonio, "when some hours of consolation come, I think 'hard as the trial is, yet it is sweet' - I never knew till now what prayer is - never thought of fasting - though now it is more a habit than eating, never knew how to give up all, and send my spirit to mount Calvary, nor how to con-sole and delight it in the society of angels - 'Patience,' says my soul, 'He will not let you and your little ones perish, and if yet your life is given in the conflict, at the last he will nail all to his cross and receive you to his mercy'" (1:339). Review for Religious Elizabeth's decision to join the Catholic Church gained her inner peace and certitude, but led, as she later recorded, to "most painful remembrances now - yet grateful for the order of our Grace, so evident through all" (3a:519). The three years that she remained in New York after her conversion were difficult and gave her ample opportunity to share in the sufferings of Christ. Anti-Catholic sentiment made it hard for her to support her children and deprived her of much that her friends and family had provided. Her choice also occasioned some other troubles. Her two youngest Seton sisters-in-law, Harriet and Cecilia, and their cousin Eliza Farquhar were drawn to Elizabeth's Catholic fervor. When family members expressed disapproval, Cecilia's enthusiasm only grew stronger. Having been raised by Elizabeth from age seven, this young woman felt close bonds that were' strengthened by their shared desire for a devout living of their Christian faith. As she was. departing for Italy, Elizabeth had cau-tioned he.r young prot~g& "If you find that there are any obstacles in.your way, and doubtless you will find many as every Christian does in the fulfillment of his duty, still Persevere with yet more earnestness, and rejoice to bear your share in the Cross which is Our Passport and Seal to the Kingdom of our Redeemer" (1:224). Now, as Cecilia adamantly pursued the course of following Elizabeth into the Catholic Church, the younger woman met with severe opposition and even threats from her family. Elizabeth supported her as best she could, writing on Christmas Eve 1805: "My dear dear child I beg, beseech, implore you, to offer up all your pains, your Sorrows, and vexations to God that he will unite them with the Sorrows, the pangs and anguish which Our adored Redeemer bore for us on the Cross 261 69.3 2010 Metz ¯ Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of tbe Cross "Dwelling under :the Shadow of His Cross we will cheerfully gather the thorns which will be t~urned hereafter into a joyful crown" 262] - place yourself in spirit at the foot of that cross, and entreat that a drop of that precious blood there shed may fall on you to enlighten strengthen and support your Soul in this life and ensure its eternal Salvation in the next" (1:398). When Cecilia joined the Catholic Church, a violent storm broke in the extended Seton family. For a time she was confined to her room, threats were made to send her to the West Indies, and even to burn Elizabeth's house down over her head. Eventually the new convert tied her clothes up in a bundle and went to liv~ with Elizabeth for a time.2 During Cecilia's period of trial Elizabeth kept a daily spiritual jour-nal. In it she shared her own prayer expe-riences, along with offering counsel, and encouragement. In one entry she noted: "Pain and Resignation instead of the Treasure [Eucharist] this day -but He is then most near - while Weeping under his Cross we are there content to stay" (1:470). In another, Elizabeth encouraged her young relative: "May we never leave the sheltering wing, but dwelling under the Shadow of His Cross we will cheer-fully gather the thorns which will be turned hereafter into a joyful crown" (1:473). When Elizabeth Seton made the decision to move her family to Baltimore in spring 1808, her only hesi-tation was leaving her young relative and confidante behind in New York. Cecilia wanted to accompany Review for Religious Elizabeth but also felt an obligation to care for her brother James's children. Elizabeth missed Cecilia terribly and buoyed her-self with the thought that "there is no distance for souls united as ours" (2:6). During the year the two were sepa-rated, Cecilia continued to face difficulties and obsta-cles to her hopes of joining her beloved "Sister," as she referred to Elizabeth, while Elizabeth was peaceful and delighted with her new situation. In this light Elizabeth wrote to her "most precious child": "It is poor Sister who must beg you to pray for her --I am at rest my darling while you are mounting the heights of Sion - often too I sleep in the Garden, while you are sharing the bitter cup, but it is not to be so for long, his mercies are end-less and I shall not be left without my portion" (2:21). The two were joyfully reunited in June 1809 when Cecilia arrived in Maryland with plans to join the newly forming community of the Sisters of Charity. She enthu- ¯ siastically plunged into this new life, but her delicate health continued to decline. By early 1810 Elizabeth wrote to her friend Eliza Sadler: "My heart faints when I think of this separation. No one can conceive of.what she is to me - but - but-fiat" (2:111).,,Cecilia died of tuberculosis within several months, having well learned the spiritual lessons offered by suffering., ,As Cecilia Seton passed from Elizabeth's life, another Cecilia became an intimate companion. Cecilia O'Conway, a young woman from Philadelphia, was planning to travel to Europe to become a nun. Instead, On the recommendation of her. priest-director, she became the first woman to join Elizabeth at her school in Baltimore~ These two women shared many of the same spiritual goals and became friends almost .at once. Cecilia was enthusiastic about becoming a Sister of 69.3 2010 Metz * Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross Charity, and through the trials of the early years offered loving support to Elizabeth, who referred to her friend as "the angel of the Community. a true. and solid comfort" (2:141). Cecilia was indeed a true comfort as Elizabeth struggled through the difficulties of establish-ing a religious community and bore the sorrov¢ of'the deaths of two of her daughters. In August 1817 the two women were separated when Cecilia was amongthe first sisters sent to take charge 6f the .Catholic orphafi asylum in New York City. She was not happy to be separated from Elizabeth or to be thrust into the bustle of city life. But her spiritual mother chal-lenged her: "My own Cecilia - going on her heavenly errand and to crucify Self- . . . if you suffer, so much the better for our high journey above - the only fear I have is that you will let the old string pull too hard for solitude and silence, but look to the Kingdom of souls -, . this is not a country, my dear one, for Solitude and Silence, but of warfare and crucifixion- You are not to stay in his silent agonies of the garden at night, but go from post to pillar to the very fastening on the cross and mind, my lady, how you dare glahce a thought at pull-ing out a nail which he put in with my hand, while his own so dear will hammer it up to the very head I expect - I beg him with a mother's agony to do it softly and tenderly - would wish so to hold your dear head while he does it, but he answers, 'no one held his'., but yet he will hold it himself supporting with one hand, and fastening with the other" (2i498-499). During Cecilia's years in New York, she and Elizabeth maintained a lively correspondence .chal-lenging each other to an ever deeper union with their Redeemer. In their letters they exhorted each other to accept the sufferings, both physical and emotional, that R~view for Religious they were experiencing, and to receive them in the spirit of participating in the Lord's passion. "May you enjoy true peace in Him who has nailed us," Elizabeth wrote; "I would not pull the smallest nail out for a thousand worlds" (2:682). In her newsy letters Elizabeth kept Cecilia apprised of her declining health, telling her in July 1818, "I have no symptoms now of hastening Death as when I wrote you [earlier] - slow, slow and sure" (2:569). A few months later Elizabeth reminded her spiritual daughter of "how little is all that passes with this life . therefore we must be so careful to meet our grace," She then contin-ued: "Isaac come forth - the wood and fire are here, let not the Victim be wanting" (2:595). And the following month Elizabeth urged the younger woman to "take the abundant sweet heavenly grace from day to day, only seeking and seeing him in all our little duties . . . and taking from. the hands of all around us every daily cross and trial as if he gave it himself" (2:600). After two years in New York, Cecilia returned to the motherhouse in Emmitsburg, where she could again share her days with her beloved friend. With Elizabeth's health continuing to decline, Cecilia became one of her nurses. Staying close by her bed, she made sure Elizabeth had a crucifix available to assist her prayer, and she was present among the mourners when Elizabeth's last hour arrived. Am6ng EliEabeth's writings meditation on "the communion lof the cross." 69.3 2010 Metz * Elizabeth Seton's Spirituality of the Cross 266 Among Elizabeth's writings is a meditation on "the communion of the cross." In it she speaks of "the hap-piness of receiving our Lord and Savior in the holy Eucharist," yet points out that "we also receive him by the communion of his cross." "So," she continues, "when he invites us to come and receive him in afflic-tions' and sufferings, we should receive his chalice with the same ardor, and drink his Blood by faith . The great advantage of the communion of the cross is that we receive it when our Lord himself pleases and at the time he sees best." "Unhappily," she reflects, "we are. apt to think the very least suffering is too much, because we are lovers with our lips rather than our heart, while the true lover of Christ can never have enough of his cross." "All he asks of us is our good Will," but we. also "should bring the burning fire of love and gratitude" (3a:419-422). Elizabeth's burning love of God and desire to imi-tate Jesus was something that grew within her as she matured through her life. It gave her a deep insight into the necessity of losing herself in order to gain union with God: She understood, as had many holy women and men before her, that she was invited to emulate Jesus' self-giving love - that "the true lover of Christ can never have enough of his cross," and as they, carry the cross they "should bring the burning fire of love and gratitude." ~ The spirituality of the cross has been part of the Christian message from the time Jesus taught on this earth. Great saints, theologians, and spiritual guides through the centuries have stressed this same message. Today's Christian leaders continue to stress, as essential of our spirituality, our participation in Jesus' self-giving love, The German theologian Jiirgen Moltmann sees a kind of alchemy of Review for Religious love, where all the negativity and suffering of the world is touched by God and transformed into the victory of life.3 Johannes Metz, in his classic Poverty of Spirit, writes: "The legacy of God's total commiunent to humankind, the proof of God's fidelity to our poverty, is the cross [and] no one is exempted from the poverty of the cross.''4 Jessica Powers, in her poem "The Sign of the Cross," offers this same wisdom:5 The lovers of Christ lift out their hands to the great gift of suffering. For how could they seek to be warmed and clothed and delicately fed, when He the worthy went forth, wounded and hated, and grudged of even a place to lay His head? This is the badge of the friends of the Man of Sorrows: the mark of the cross, faint replica of His. Choose it, my heart. It is a beautiful sign. Notes ~ Regina Bechtle SC and Judith Metz SC, Elizabeth Barley Seton: Collected Writings, 4 vols. (New York: New City Press, 2000, 2002, 2006), vol. 3, part 2, pp. 74-75, hereafter cited in parentheses, thus: (3b:74-75). 2 Annabelle Melville, Elizabeth Barley Seton (New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1951), p. 119. 3 Jiirgen Moltmann, The Crucified God, as described in Elizabeth Johnson, Consider Jesus: Waves of Renewal in Christology (New York: Crossroad, 1990), p. 121. 4 Johannes B. Metz, Poverty of Spirit (New York, Paulist Press, 1968), pp. 19-20. ~ Regina Siegfried ASC and Robert E Morneau, Selected Poetry of Jessica Powers (Kansas City: Sheed and Ward, 1989), p. 150. 267 69.3 2010 AVIS CLENDENEN A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 2,68 Lheard a story a few years ago that got into the arrow of my bones and became a "dangerous memory." This term was coined by Johann Baptist Metz, who described it as an earlier experience breaking into our present lives and revealing new and provocative insights for the future. Such a breakthrough casts light on the deceptive nature of something we considered an evident good. It is a dangerous and incalculable visitant from the past. This memory has future content,~ The memory I wish to share is a story told by Sister of Mercy Betty Barrett on the occasion of her sixtieth jubilee as a vowed religious. Sister Betty Barrett entered the congregation in 1945. She devoted most of her ministerial life to education, becoming the president of Saint Xavier College in Chicago in the turbulent 1960s. In 1966 she supported an innovative idea to invite major Avis Clendenen most recently wrote for us in 2008. She is pro-fessor of religious studies and the Sister Irene Dugan RC Scholar in Spirituality at Saint Xavier University; 3700 West 103rd Street; Chicago, Illinois 60655. Review for Religious theological architects of the Second Vatican Council to the college for the inaugural symposium of the newly formed Pope John xxIII Institute. The tag line of the John xx]II Institute quoted John xxJII's call "to dedicate ourselves to that work which our era demands of us. ¯ remembering we are not on earth to guard a museum, but to cultivate a flourishing garden of life." . Imagine this small U.S. women's Catholic college thinking itself capable of hosting at one symposium Yves Congar, Jean Dani61ou, Charles Davis, Henri de Lubac, Johann Baptist Metz, John Courtney Murray, Edward Schillebeeckx, Karl Rahner, and others as well. The European theologians would for the first time bring the insights of the council documents to North America. For some, this would be their ~first trip to the United States. They all came. This gathering is exactly what President Sister Betty Barrett accomplished in early 1966, only four months after the council's close.2 The formation of the John xxlII Institute and the plan for the symposium became controversial. Archbishop John Cody of Chicago expressed reserva-tions about the symposium. He wrote to Sister Betty saying that such a gathering of theologians did not coin-cide with his norm for theological activities. He then issued a public decree that all ecclesiastical entities in the archdiocese must first obtain certification of cre-dentials from him before inviting to Chicago any priest from outside the archdiocese. All the council theologians invited were priest-theologians. The situation became an international story that saw the canonical authority of the local bishop as opposing academic freedom in institutions of higher education. The American press described the symposium, which drew more than three thousand participants to the little-known campus, as "an 269 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 270 event of unprecedented proportions," "an intellectual feast," and "a complex and strange event in the history of Catholic colleges at that time in North America." Interesting as it is, this event is not the key story of this essay. It is background for discussing the matter of dangerous memory. Sister Betty saw.the Second Vatican Council as Pope John xxIII did. She saw that aggiornamento was intimately tied,to justice and peace. While president, she became the first woman religious to be named to the Illinois Human Relations Commission. After her presidency she continued to advance the vision and mis-sion of ecclesial renewal and the claims of the social gospel through a variety of positions such as her min-istry with the Eighth Day Center for Justice and the Catholic Interracial Council. In her seventies she went to Central America to work with the poor, Though she tried desperately, she never learned Spanish well enough to speak or truly understand it. In her eighties she was asked at her sixtieth jubilee in April 2003 to share memories with those gathered to celebrate with her~ I shall paraphrase Sister Betty but speak for her in the first person. You know that when I went to Central America I could not speak the language of the people. You know I hold degrees of all kinds and functioned at a tremendous level of responsibility for many years while in the ministry of higher education. Yet, even after years and years of living among these beautiful people and interacting with them every day, I never managed to speak with them in their native tongue. So I was forced, so to speak, to plumb new depths of human communica-tion. While there, I came to realize that "being Review for Religious there"--presence--is what is most important in our ministry. Presence conveys a meaning that tran-scends even the need for words. This I learned very late in my ministerial life. Honoring this jubilee year of mine and know-ing that my ability to travel would only continue to diminish, the community offered me airfare to travel a last time to Honduras to see my friends. So a few weeks ago I took that trip. I went to the home of a family with whom I had been present during moments of joy and pain in their lives over a span of years. I walked into their humble living room and noticed something. There on the wall surround-ing the crucifix, were four pictures, each rever-ently hung near the cross. There was, of course, a picture 6f Our Lady of Guadalupe; a picture of Mother Catherine McAuley, the founder of the Sisters of Mercy; a picture of Archbishop Oscar Romero; and . a picture of me! What can I say to you about that moment in my life? Seeing the cross and our Lady, seeing that this family was so deeply touched by the min-istries of the Sisters of Mercy that they placed a portrait of a !9th century Irish woman near their own beloved Oscar Romero--and then to see my picture in that company! It was a moment of abject'humility, wonder, awe, an'd gratitude I will never forget. I could never really talk with them the way I am talking with you now, yet I was present to them over the long haul of many years. I share this story with you as an act of gratitude and humility for the gift of these sixty years of ser- 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Faring Myth 272] vice, and as a testimony of wonder to 'a God who can do more in us than we can "ask or imagine" (Ep 3:20). I was mesmerized by her tale. In hearing it, my own consciousness was altered forever about ministry and mystery, about growing old yet remaining ever new, and about the lost art of humility. I recognized her story from'the past as a memory bearing future content. This elegantly simple parable resounded in me, taking on the force of a great myth; it became part of the life I desire. I say this not with any intention to mimic her experience, but in the inspiring hope of living the nearly lost art of humility. Sister Betty told a little tale about one family, and they--all unaware--became a dangerous memory precisely because she knew her telling it could break into the present moment and bring us new and danger-ous insights. Such lives disrupt self-interest and ambition by being a vivid picture of largeness of mind and heart, which our noisy egos often do not notice. The mythic story of this elderly nun speaks :to the truth of the poet Mary Oliver's words: What I loved in the beginning, I think, was mosdy myself. Never mind that I had to,. since somebody had to. o That was many years ago. Since then I have gone out from my confinement~s, though with difficulty. And I have l~ecome the child of the clouds, and of hope. I have become the friend of the enemy, whoever that is. I have become older and, cherishing what I have learned, I have become younger. And what do. I risk to tell you this, which is all I know? Love yourself. Then forget it. Then, love the world.3 Review for Religious Living in an Age of Entitlement That last line is not an easy task in today's world. More than a decade ago I read, "The narcissistic per-sonality has become the most prominent~ personality type in the Western world.''4 At that time the statement caught me up short. Now I find it the lens through which I view the world I inhabit. In their new book The Narcissism Epidemic: Living in the Age of Entitlement (2009), the psychologists Jean Twenge and W. Keith Campbell have documented and analyzed the troubling cultural trends of the past three decades. They suggest that North American culture itself is in the grip of a narcissism epidemic. According to Theodore Millon, professor of psychiatry at Harvard University, profes-sor of psychology at Miami University, and leading authority on personality disorders, "the label narcissism connotes more than .mere egocentricity. Narcissism sig-nifies, more specifically, that these individuals overvalue their personal worth, direct their affections toward themselves rather than others, and expect that others will recognize their unique and special value.''5 While I hesitate to labor the point, I think the fol-lowing list of traits and behavioral tendencies of the narcissistic personality can give us pause, in which to examine human consciousness. Those leaning toward narcissism tend ¯ To grandiosity, haughtiness, snobbishness, arrogance; ¯ To feelings of entitlement; praise for performance; ¯ To exploitation of and insensitivity toward others; ¯ To crave attention, which they see as deserved without need for reciprocity; ¯ To flout conventional rules and expectations of shared social living; 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare I-Iumili~y and a Future-Facing ~4yth ¯ To assume and often find that others feel hon-ored by their relationship, or to quickly train others to admire and obey them, with the result that the admirers insulate, them from self-aware hess of their limitations; ¯ To idealize those who satisfy their needs while treating contemptuously those who do not; the shifting of overvaluation to denigration occurs frequently in the same relationship; ¯ To preoccupation with personal adequacy, . power, prestige, and status; ¯ To heightened sensitivity to any form of criticism; ¯ To intolerance of perceived affronts to self-esteem that question their assumed inherent specialness; ¯ To take liberties with facts by embellishing them to maintain illusion of self-worth; ¯ To exaggerate abilities and accomplishments; to inflate and justify what they feel is due them, while depreciating those who refuse to accept or enhance their self-image; ¯ To use rationalization as a regulatorymechanism to cope with the inevitable personal failures or social humiliations by devising plausible reasons for self-justification and doing so with litde con-cern for others; and ¯ To lack interpersonal empathy.6 This detailed list of a narcissistic character is now embedded in the general population (and culture) where once such a description of human personality would have qualified as clinical narcissistic disorder. Ttie ethos of selfishness, individualism, utilitarianism, and instru-mentalism is taken for granted, not seen as problematic, and thus often remains unexamined. In turn, the values of community, altruism, and the life of the virtues are Review for Religious being undermined. A few years ago I heard the coor-dinator of the Jesuit Volunteers report that there was a lot of interest among young people who wanted to serve on their own terms. He referred to this as narclsslsnc idealism." According to Twenge and Campbell, no single event initiated the epidemic; instead, the values deep in the American psyche shifted Slowly toward individu- ~ alism, self-admiration, materialism, incivility, and entitlement. "Like a disease," they write, "narcissism is caused by certain factors, spreads through particular chan-nels, appears as various ~ ~ ~' symptoms, and might be ° - halted by preventive measures and cures. Narcissism is a psych0-cultural affliction rather than a physical disease, but the model works remarkably well.''7 Six years before The Narcissism Epidemic, Dr. ,Robert Moore, professor of psychoanalysis, culture, and spiritu-ality at Chicago Theological Seminary, in his book Facing the Dragon: Confronting Personal and Spiritual Grandiosity, announced the new contemporary crisis as "the epidemic of unregulated human grandiosity." Grandiosity refers to holding fantasies or embracing desires that are greater than your real life can support. According to Moore, either grandiosity makes you manic in running around to meet unrealistic demands or makes you depressed because your desires are essentially unachievable. Moore rallies our intellects and emotions to break through the existential denial of our "naive male" and "naive female" ,Cultural narcissism is d estructively shaping a :collusive and self-promoting ' way of livi g: 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 276] approach to the human situation by courageously con-fronting the aggressive cultural selling of pathological narcissism as a normative vision for human life.s The Narcissism Epidemic is replete with examples that reveal how cultural narcissism is destructively shaping a collusive and self-promoting way of living. In a chapter tided "Superspreaders!" they tell a tale from the televi-sion series "My Super Sweet 16": "Atlanta teen Allison tells a party planner she wants to block off part of Peachtree Street so there can be a parade for 'my grand entrance.' Peachtree is a major thoroughfare, the plan-ner reminds her. She responds, 'My sweet 16 is more important than wherever they have to be.' But there's a hospital across the street, the planner cautions--what if an ambulance can't get to the hospital? 'They can wait one second. Or they can go around,' she says cavalierly. Amid all of this, Allison's mother just listens. When the planner finally turns to her in exasperation, she says, 'If Allison wants it, make it happen.' So much for that dying person in the ambulance." The narcissistic "enti-dement" expressed here by the mother points to the odd perpetual adolescence of many American adults. Twenge and Campbell say that adolescence, the most narcissis-tic time of life, is being extended beyond all previous limits.9 Clearly such happenings are not isolated aberra-tions; they are cultural markers of the superspreading of a distorted collective psyche, that needs attention, fast. In Waking Up in Time: Finding Inner Peace in Times of Accelerating Change, the physicist and futurist Peter Russell said, "Our power to change the world may have made prodigious leaps but our internal development, the development of our attitudes and values, has pro-gressed more slowly. We seem to be as prone to greed, aggression, shortsightedness, and self-centeredness as Review for Religious we were 2,500 years ago . If we are to survive the critical times we are now passing through, it is essen-tial we undergo a profound shift in values and awaken to our inner truths and our full spiritual potential.''1° Effecting such a shift and awakening has been the mis-sion of Benetvision: A Resource and Research Center for Contemporary Spirituality founded by Benedictine Sister Joan Chittister. Interestingly, Twenge, Campbell, Moore, Russell, and Chittister11 all suggest a return to the lost art of the virtuous life as a way to stem and bring healing to the epidemic of entidement and grandiosity that marks and mars our current North American culture. Risking Humility The final chapter of The Narciss#m Epidemic, "Treating the Epidemic of Narcissism," sees the recovery of authentic humility as the way to lessen the narcissism in our lives and in our culture. Humility is the counter-balance to narcissism, the creative opposite to its viru-lence. Modesty, lack of pretense, absence of arrogance, and refinement of character--so evident in Sister Betty's jubilee tale--are vitally necessary in today's personal and communal reflection. Her unaffected wonder at finding her own picture in the company of Oscar Romero's, and Catherine McAuley's, and Our Lady of Guadalupe's, at the foot of the cross has to make you and me wonder: Do we truly believe that God can do more in us than we ever imagined--or could ever imagine? Her awe at seeing what she and her ministry meant to this poor, loving family puts us in awe, even a feeling of danger. What does this mean for the many in our country whose lives are far too self-focused and comfortable? Has a cer-tain impoverishment accompanied i:he world's material progress? Have we--ourselves, our communities, our 69.3 2010 Clendenen * A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 278 Humility is the ancient ever-new ~irtue that ke~s us rooted in our earthiness and able to savor our human limits as gifts. culture--settled into a certain mediocrity, an exagger-ated feeling of entidement? Is our ministry simple and un-self-conscious enough to be a wondrous conduit for God's goodness and inspire a needy people's transcendent gratitude? Is the path to greater human success and hap-piness much more toward inwardness than upwardness? Humility is the ancient ever-new virtue that keeps us rooted in our earthiness and able to savor our human limits as gifts. Sister Betty felt her lack of facility with Spanish as a weakness, and therein was her humble open-ness to receive new graces and new skills, even in her seventies. She brought those graces to some of God's people in their times of joy and grief. Twelve-step recovery has something to say about this. It advises people to strive for spiritual prog-ress, not perfection, and to admit their powerless-ness, accept their limits, and thereby find true freedom. Such yielding in honesty to a Power greater than ourselves enables people to risk humility. In that humility they find themselves able to understand the Beatitudes (Mt 5:1-12) and to risk living in meekness, gentleness, empathy, self-donating love, and freely chosen accountability. The word humility comes from the Latin word humi-lis, meaning "low," which, in turn, comes from the Latin humus, which means "earth" or "dirt" or "soil." The 12th-century Benedictine abbess and mystic Hildegard of Bingen understood the dangers of not paying atten- Review for Religious tion to nature and all natural things. She devoted one of her many writings to virtues and vices. She was con-vinced that virtues are more than moral habits: they are therapeutic forces within human nature that can produce wonderful transformations. In her legendary Scivias (a Latin abbreviation for. "knowing the Lord's ways"), she said, "Virtue is like a warm garment in a cold world; it is the source of charm in a harsh world" (~1.1.4). Hildegard also wrote the following in one of her many letters of advice to religious leaders: Walk through the valley of humility and know peace. Lose your titanic, hard-to-satisfy ego. A greedy self-esteem is just a steep mountain you'll find dangerous to climb. It's also tricky (if not impossible) to come down from such heights, and anyhow the summit is too small for community. Focus on Love's splendid garden instead. Gather the flowers of humility and simplicity of soul. Study God's patience. Keep your eyes open.12 Sister Betty Barrett's humble, warm, and charming story carries a wallop, as myths do. It is much more than an elderly sister's pleasant memory. It is a dangerous memory. It can affect the future. Notes ~ Johann Baptist Metz, "The Future in the Memory of Suffering," Concilium 76 (1972), p. 15. 2 [See The Word in History: The St. Xavier Forum, ed. T. Patrick Burke (New York: Sheed and Ward; 1966). Ed.] 3 Mary Oliver, "To Begin With, the Sweet Grass," Evidence (Boston: Beacon Press, 2009), pp. 38-39. 4 L. Sperry and H.L. Ansbacker, "The Concept of Narcissism and Narcissistic Personality Disorder," Psychopathology and Psychotherapy (Washington, D.C.: Accelerated Development, 1996), p. 349. 5 Theodore Millon and George S. Everly Jr., Personality and Its Disorders: A Biosocial Learning Approach (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1985), p. 70. [279 69.3 2010 Clendenen ¯ A Rare Humility and a Future-Facing Myth 6 Theodore Millon, Personality-Guided Therapy (New York: John Wiley and Sons, 1999), pp. 433-463. 7 Jean M. Twenge and W. Keith Campbell, Living in the Age of Entitlement: The Narcissism Epidemic (New York: Free Press, 2009), p. 2. s Robert L. Moore, Facing the Dragon: Confronting Personal and Spiritual Grandiosi~y (Wilmette: Chiron Publications, 2003), pp. 61, 68, 69, 145-146. 9 Twenge and Campbell, Living, pp. 100.101,234. The TV stoW and other insights in this article also appear in "Book Notes," Horizon: Journal of the National Religious Vocation Conference 35, no. 1 (Fall 2009): 34-35. 10 Peter Russell, Waking Up in Time: Finding Inner Peace in Times of Accelerating Change (Novato, California: Origin Press, 1992), pp. 38, 154. 11 See Joan D. Chittister, "Pride and Humility," in Heart of Flesh: A Feminist Spirituality for Women and Men (Grand Rapids: ~William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1998), pp. 89-106. ~2 Carmen Acevedo Butcher, Hildegard of Bingen: A Spiritual Reader (Brewster, Massachusetts: Paraclete Press, 2007), p. 159. You who calmed. You who calmed the winds and sea, Jesus, calm and center me. Draw me in and hold my gaze Soothe and silence me these days. Deep is calling unto deep. I give you all my cares to keep. You who calmed the winds and sea. Jesus, calm and center me. Mary Jan6 Higgins RSM Review for Religious ROBERT J. NOGOSEK Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice When I was nineteen years old and a university student, I made a weekend retreat in the Gethsemani Trappist monastery in Kentucky. I was ~rying to decide whether or not I should enter religious life. At one of the retreat con-ferences, an elderly monk printed in block let-ters on the blackboard the word success, putting two vertical lines through each S to make it a dollar sign. He said the world sees success as making money, but real success in life is not about dollars. We needed to turn one vertical line sideways and make a cross. ~ This said a lot about the Trappist life I was observing. The white-robed monks seemed to live a foolish life not at all conducive to hap-piness° keeping silence, arising in the middle Robert J. Nogosek CSC has been a ~heology profes-sor and a parish pastor among other responsibilities. His address is P.O. Box 929; Notre Dame, Indiana 46556. liv!np religious life 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 282 of the night to chant psalms together in a cold chapel, and eating crusty bread in a diet often deprived of meat. But I saw in the monks a remarkable humor I had never seen before. It seemed that for them life was a big joke. I decided I wanted the joy they had, and their way of seeing the meaning of life in this world. Back at college I returned to my sophomore classes. One of the courses was on the four Gospels, printed in parallel columns to show similarities and differences in the story of Jesus. As I s~t in class somewhat bored one spring afternoon, it suddenly occurred to me that the Gospels were practical--that living the Gospels made good sense. I saw this in the story of the rich young man in Matthew 19. He already had more than enough money and possessions while keeping all the command-ments, but was still discontented. He asked what more he could do to have a better life. Jesus graciously invited him to join the community, of disciples, but first he must sell all he had and give the money to the poor. This is how the Trappist monk had explained success. It helped me to see that by joining a religious community I could live the gospel in a literal way, like those who had fol-lowed Jesus in Galilee. The greatest day in my life came some months later on my clothing day. Upon receiving the religious habit with many others that day, I saw myself as having left. the world to join with the others in a life centered on friendship with Jesus Christ. It would consist in living a religious rule. That did not seem to be a great sacrifice, but rather the way to be myself, apart from a world that ran after money and other false values. This freedom to be myself did not initially translate into becoming a gift for others, as St. Paul describes it in Galatians 5:13--"you were called for freedom, brothers. Review for Religious But do not use this freedom as an opportunity for the flesh; rather, serve one another through love." Instead, I concentrated on having a direct relationship with Jesus. It was only much later that I realized that God created me to live as a member of the human family, and that this meant sharing my heart with others. Gradually this was extended to seeing myself as a brother to any other human being I might meet. Seeking Perfection I began to see that progress in union with God involved seeking what was called "the perfection of charity." Vatican Council II would state that the pur-pose of religious life is to make the perfection ; of charity a "very clear symbol" (Flannery) or ~ a "blazing emblem" (Abbott) of the kingdom of God (PC §I). Our love for Jesus is to flow out in love of neighbor, which, as Pope Paul VI . . ~, wrote, is to be extended to the whole human race (Ecclesiam suam, §58). As the ancient hymn Ubi Caritas had stated, charity (caritas) united with heartfelt love (amor) makes God present in the world. Vatican II also stated that religious profession of the evangelical councils is to free us from obstacles that might draw us away not only from the fervor of char-ity, but also from "the perfection of divine worship" (LG §4). This perfection of divine worship would be our response to the Orate Fratres at Mass in praying I began to see that progress in union with GOd involved ~seeking what was called ~ '~the perfection of charity. " [283 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 284 that our sacrifice "be acceptable to God, the Father Almighty." But this perfection of divine worship also requires the perfection of charity, as St. Paul suggests by saying that the loving gift the Philippians sent him is the "fragrant aroma'.' of "an acceptable sacrifice, pleas-ing to God" (Ph 4:18). Vatican II calls the Eucharist "a sacrament of love" and "a bond of charity" (SC §47), not unlike St. Thomas saying that Holy Communion incites into action our dispositions to be charitable (ST III.79.1 ad 2)~ He cites 2 Corinthians 5:14--"the love of Christ impels us." This could be why the new liturgy has shortened the time after Holy Communion. We are not to bury our face in our hands in private adoration of Jesus in our heart, but rather to ready ourselves for reaching out to others. It calls me "to put off the old man" (Col 3:9) of self-centeredness, and put into action the command-ment of loving others as Jesus has loved me. Jesus wants to be loved in his people, as a religious sister once heard in her heart when, upon kissing the crucifix before retir-ing, she heard the words "Kiss my people." Personal Fulfillment Even though I had often heard women religious speak of their quest for "fulfillment," it took years for me to revise my original desire for success in life into a language of personal fulfillment. I had not expected to be "fulfilled" as a person by the sacrifice represented in religious profession of poverty, chastity, and obedience, any more than I had seen the austerity of the Trappist life as a way to personal fulfillment in this world. Making life seem like a joke could hardly be called "ful-fillment." My thinking was changed, however, in part by a parable in C.S. Lewis's Mere Christianity (Bk 4, 9). Review fir Religious According to an adaptation of the story, you invite a friend to live with you in your house. After some time, you notice blueprints have been spread out on the din-ing- room table. Inspecting them, you realize your guest has elaborate plans to transform your little house into a great palace--"throwing out a new wing here, put-ring on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards." As C.S. Lewis comments, it is as though your guest wants to make it a home worthy of himself. To think of Jesus as actually living with me in my heart was not something I had learned in catechism. We had been told that the Holy Spirit was the divine guest in our heart, bug the real presence of Jesus was only in the host in the tabernacle, except when Jesus cam to us in Holy Communion and stayed for seven minutes.~ But during novitiate I had read some books of Raoul Plus SJ, especially one entitled In Christ Jesus, showing from the writings of St. Paul that by baptismal grace we have, abiding in our heart,, the real presence of Jesus. It is the same Jesus as resides in the tabernacle--body and blood, soul and divinity. In Holy Communion he does not come for a visit; he comes to stay. Others around me disagreed, but I was sure Plus was right about this teaching of St. Paul. Later I would also find it in St. Teresa of Avila's Interior Castle. If the real presence of Jesus dwells in us, then we also meet him in others, and what others share in truth and love could well be a gift to us directly from Jesus in their heart. This makes our mutual sharing of life crucial to our relationship with Jesus. It took me beyond the Little Flower's Way of Spiritual Childhood, which long before I had been drawn to by the Trappist monks. There is something more than putting as much love as possible into each action; I am also called to make a 69.3 2010 Nogosek * Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice gift of myself to others so as to communicate the love of Jesus, who dwells within my heart. This amounts to being a grace to others. It is the language of spiritual gifts or charisms. Charisms During formation I. was repeatedly urged to rec-ognize my special talents and gifts, since religious life involves a commitment to strive for personal and spiri-tual growth. I was told that "grace builds on i~ature." So what is my nature as an individual? What talents and personality had I brought with me into religious life? These efforts at self-scrutiny often left me feel-ing quite discouraged. I lacked so much of what others around me had in talents and personality. Only much later would I see this differently, in part because of the parable in Mere Christianity--that inviting Jesus into my heart could result in my being radically changed as a person. In calling me to discipleship, Jesus may well be planning to have me express myself in wonderful ways, just as he had promised his disciples that they would do greater works than he had done (Jn 14:12). We know that by receiving his Body we become his Body, so that, like him (LG §5), our words, actions, and personal presence can reveal the kingdom of God on earth. This could represent the "abundant fruit from the grace of baptism" which Vatican II says we will be enabled to have by religious profession (LG §44). If I am to be a grace to others by charisms, I have to come out ofmy shell. This is like a cartoon I once saw. In the first frame, there is a big egg bouncing up and down. In the next frame a duckling has poked out his head through the shell, and looks around in fright. In the final frame he has dived headfirst back into the egg. It is much Review for Religious the same with charisms. We have to drop our defenses and risk being a person in new ways before others. Walking on the Water Underlying Vatican II's Pastoral Constitution of the Church in the Modern World is the story of walking on water in Matthew 14. Jesus is walking on the waters of today's world, and -- - invites us, like St. Peter, to get out of our boat to ioin him. This is to fol-low our discerning "the signs of the times" (GS §.4), which are the ques-tions and yearnings of people today.2 - It means trying something new. In leaving our comfort zone, we will need to keep our eyes on Jesus. St. Peter started sinking only when he looked around and felt the wind blowing hard against him. This suggests that charisms do not form part of our personal identity. Although we have been given the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit at confirmation, these are not graces to give grace to others, but rather a disposi-tion to be sensitive to the breath of the Spirit, which, as Jesus said, may come and go like the summer breeze (Jn 3:8). Our personal defects remain; it is as "earthen vessels" (2 Co 4:7) that we carry Christ's grace to others. Maybe, in our self-gift to others, the power of Jesus will be conveyed, even through our defects and vulnerability. St~ Paul says in 2 Corinthians 12:10--"when I am weak, then I am strong." Jesus is walking on the ¯ wafers bf today's world, and invites us, like St. Peter, . "to~et out Of our.boat to join him. 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice The opportunity for that came up early in my reli-gious life. Just as I completed studies in biblical theol-ogy, I received a letter assigning me to teach dogmatic theology. Upon arriving in the classroom a few months later, I steadied my nerves by recalling G.K. Chesterton: "If something is worth doing, it is worth doing badly." But the course turned out quite well. The students enjoyed my attempts to use the Bible to understand dogma in place of the traditional Neo-Scholasticism they had been hearing. Again, many years later, I was invited to join a team in southern California doing evangelization among Mexican immigrants. I told God that if he wanted me to do this, he would have to teach me Spanish. Initially some of the people rejected me because they sensed I did not understand what they were saying. That was quite true, but, when with them, I would repeat a word or phrase they had said just to keep them talking. Since I loved the people, I was quite happy to be able to communicate even a little bit and to keep on listening. After they came to see I really liked being with them, they began showing that they liked being with "Padre Roberto." At the same time I was making a big hit with their children, maybe because I saw each child as just as much a person as I was. With their kids so fond of me, as time went on their parents became more satisfied with me as I was. 2881 Inner Resistance to Grace Like the companions of St. Peter on the lake that stormy night, we are likely to have a lot of reluctance "to get out of the boat" to join Jesus walking on the water. This is typical of the resistance described by St. Paul's discussion of Christian freedom in Galatians 5. He calls it "the desire of the flesh." When I first arrived at Review for Religious Coachella, California, as the new pastor of an Hispanic parish, I was determined to follow the example of St. John Vianney, who had started out as cur4 of Ars by knocking on doors to visit the people in their homes.3 To make this happen, I put it on my schedule for cer-tain evenings each week. As I got into my car at 7 p.m., usually I would not feel like going, but I went anyway, and once I was interacting with the people I enjoyed it--and they did too. In Sunday homilies I would tell the people that, if they wanted to experience the Holy Spirit (and I knew they did), they should do something for someone. I said the presence of the Holy Spirit is felt mainly in our actions. Others say the same: that when they visit the sick, or even someone in jail, they "get more out of it" than they give. We may feel like new persons in our spontaneity of interact-ing with others out of our love for Jesus. People even relate that they have said things that surprised them, things they had never thought of before. This recalls the promise of Jesus about the gift of the Holy Spirit-- that we should not prepare what to say beforehand, for in our witness itself the Spirit would give us the words to say (Mt 10:20). 'The presence of the Holy: Spirit is felt mainly .fin our actionS. Charisms and Renewal In its call to renewal, Vatican II invites us to aspire to have charisms typical of the early church. Both Pope John xxIII and Pope Paul VI called for a "New Pentecost," to restore to the church today the youth- 69.:~ 2010 Nogosek * Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice fulness and enthusiasm it had when it first came from the hands of Jesus. When we look at early Christianity in comparison with the church today, we wonder what caused the rapid growth in the number of believers. Rodney Stark in The Rise of Christianity estimates that during the first three centuries the number of Christians increased by forty percent every ten years, beginning in A.D. 40 with about 1,000, and' attaining more than 33,000,000 believers by the year 350 (p. 7). As a soci- ,ologist of religion, he suggests that .the best explana-tion for this phenomenal growth was the way Christians responded to the epidemics in. the empire, which would ravage the entire population at least once every century, with mortality rates of up to thir.ty percent (pp. 73ff). Even the emperor Marcus Aurelius was among the vic-tims in the year 180. At such times the pagans would flee in panic from their homes and cities, abandoning without food and water their loved ones who had fallen ill, and even refusing to bury the dead. The Christians, however, by reason of their love of Christ, would care for their sick and with devotion bury their dead. This care was extended not only to fellow Christians but also to the many pagans married to Christians, and to some of their pagan friends as well. Stark concludes: "This meant that in the aftermath of each epidemic, Christians made up a larger percentage of the population, even without new converts. Moreover, their noticeable better survival rate would have seemed a "miracle" to Christians and pagans alike, and this ought to have influenced conversions." Typically at the beginning of religious communities there was a phenomenal growth in the number of new members, who were attracted to the founder's charism in response to a critical need, even at great sacrifice. In Review for Religious founding my own Holy Cross community, Blessed Basil Moreau was responding not only to the secularization of France after the French Revolution, but also to pleas for help from European missionaries serving in Africa, North America, and Asia. After forming a community of men and women committed to the hearts of Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, he put many of them at risk by sending them abroad with few material resources, saying that as Holy Cross religious "the Cross is our only hope." He meant that, when as a community we suffer great trials while engaged in service of others, it is a sign from divine providence that our efforts will produce fruit beyond human possibilities. With such words derived from St. Paul, Moreau was transforming the French school of spirituality, with its devotion to the mystery of the incar-nation, into a trust in the paschal mystery. This fostered a bold reliance on divine providence in undertaking dif-ficult apostolates in new environments, to which we were being invited as a new apostolic religious community committed to serving the church. A New Image of the Church According to Vatican II, the church today needs a critical reform of its image, that it be much more a sign of the good news of the kingdom of God. By his 1964 encyclical, Ecclesiam suam, Pope Paul vI challenged the council fathers on the eve of the third session "to com-pare the ideal image of the church, just as Christ sees it, wills it, and loves it. with the actual image the church projects today" (§ 11). This entails, he says, "correction of the defects that conscience denounces and rejects, as if, standing before a mirror, we were to examine interiorly the image of Christ that he has left us." These "necessary reforms," he says, will be "delicate and difficult" (§12). 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 292 One delicate task of the council was that of altering the image of the church that Pope Pius XIl had presented in 1943 in his renowned encyclical Mystici Corporis. Pius identified the church as the Body. of Christ by being "a perfect society" in its juridical structure. Some of the council fathers would describe this image of the church as the "barque of Peter," with the clergy and religious as the crew and the laity their precious cargo to be transported safely across the treacherous waters of the world to the safe harbor of heaven. The council saw, however, that this is not the way the church should be. Gaudium et spes would call us out of the boat, and especially the laity, who were to see themselves as the primary evangelizers of modern society (LG §31). They were called to this and equipped for it in their baptism and confirmation (LG §33). The obligation came from Christ's commandment to love our neighbor, and the equipment would be the spiritual gifts called charisms. Their ordained pastors were to help them discern their charisms, form them as lay apostles, and give them "room for action" (LG §37). As a preferred image of the church, the council chose the biblical term "people of God." It was remi-niscent not only of the Hebrew people freed from the slavery of Egypt and guided by God through the desert, but also of the story of the multiplication of the loaves and fish in Mark 6, where Jesus has the multitude sit down on the grass in groups of hundreds and fifties. Rather than mainly showing itself as a well-defended and highly organized juridical body, the church is to make itself seen in the world as a movement of faith-filled people. The world today needs to experience the presence of God, and that can best happen where mem-bers of the church form small Christian communities Re'view for Religious through "familial love" of one another and collaboration for the faith of the gospel (GS §22). This encourages an "ecclesiology from below" char-acteristic of the way St. Paul in Ephesians 4 describes members of the church being formed into the Body of Christ. By sharing our truth in the spirit of love, we are to "grow in every way into him who is the head, Christ." The sharing is by dialogue, which had been promoted by Pope Paul vI in Ecdesiam suam and would be declared by Vatican II to be the special charac-teristic of the mis-sion of the church today (GS §82): "In virtue of its mis-sion to enlighten the whole world with the message of the gospel and to "r ~ gather together into one spirit all women and men of every nation, race, and culture, the church shows itself as a sign of that amity which renders possible sincere dialogue and strengthens it." By this we are challenged as religious to evaluate how we form ongoing community life, and what sign value it provides for others. Are we living "that amity which renders sincere dialogue and strengthens it"? At Coachella we did receive something of a posi-tive answer regarding the sign value of our community life. Three years after we arrived, the diocese conducted a thorough evaluation of the parish put into our care. One group of parishioners reported that before we came to the parish they were highly critical of one, another as parishioners. But, having noticed that the Holy Cross , 'We are challenged as religious to evaluate how we form ongoing .,community life, and what sign value it prov!des for others. 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice 294 priests and brothers never voiced a word of criticism towards one another, they decided they also should act that way toward one another. This had not happened sim-ply from our faithfulness to prayer and our apostolic zeal as a religious community. We had made the sacrifice of having weekly house chapters, where we shared with one another what was on our minds and in our hearts. Atoleast in this respect, we hhd succeeded in being "a sign which can and ought to attract all the members of the church to an effective and prompt fulfillment of the duties of their religious vocation" (LG §44). Certainly the religious vocation of all the parishioners was to live out the New Commandment byloving one another aiad making it vis-ible. We also knew that the parishioners were .to see us as a sign that "heavenly blessings'? were already present in this wtrld, foretelling "the resurrected state and the glory of the heavenly kingdom" (LG §4). For that to take place, we would have to show the people that we loved them just as they were, and in very concrete ways. The Rich Man and Lazarus According to the council, religious are "to give an increasingly clearer revelation of Christ," which includes his choosing to live as a poor man, as also was chosen by his virgin mother (LG §46). Here Vatican II was not saying anything new. What was new, and espe-cially challenging, was that as members of the church we are to evaluate the image we give to the world in light of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus (Lk 16): "Everyone must consider his neighbor without excep-tion as another self, taking into account first of all his life and the means necessary to living it with dignity, so as not to imitate the rich man who had no concern for the poor man Lazarus" (GS §27). Review for Religious Here again we are challenged to evaluate our sign value as a religious community. According to Gaudium et spes (§88), if we are living in a nation where "a majority of citizens who are counted as Christians have an abundance of this world's goods," we are in grave danger of causing scandal to the many nations where the majority are not Christian, and where the citizens "are deprived of the necessities of life and are tormented with hunger, disease, and every kind of misery." The council says that this is "as if Christ himself were appealing to the charity of his followers through the mouths of these poor people." How will Jesus see our life as a religious congrega-tion when he comes on the Last Day? How certain are we to be among those at his right hand when he comes in glory to judge the members of all nations by the cri-terion of how they served the needy? An Acceptable Sacrifice .Since Vatican II saw the mission of Jesus being con-tinued by the church, Pope John Paul II liked to repeat that the way of the church is to be the way of Jesus Christ. Jesus said we must lose our life for his sake in order to find it (Mt 10:39). He told those who wanted to follow him: "Foxes have dens and birds of the sky have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to rest his head" (Lk 9:58). St. Paul wrote that by our bearing affliction "the love of God will be poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Like St. Paul, we do not want Jesus to have died in vain, nor that his presence touch only those who believe in the Eucharist. As friends of Jesus, we want to help him make the world better, that the pleasing aroma cre-ated by his presence in us may indeed be, as St. Paul says, not as "an odor that leads to death" where people 69.3 2010 Nogosek ¯ Religious Life as an Acceptable Sacrifice reject gospel values--but rather "an odor of life that leads to life" (2,Co 2:16), where people are attracted to a gift of freedom to be themselves through sharing the wisdom, help, and love of the Holy Spirit. But today, as consecrated women and men "eval-uating the contemporary world wisely in the light of faith" (PC §2), we must ask whether the way we live our religious profession is truly becoming "an accept-able sacrifice." Jesus said that before he returned "the love of many would grow cold" (Mr 24:12), and he asked whether he would find faith upon the earth when he came again (Lk 18:8). Notes ~ It takes about seven minutes for the host to dissolve in the stomach and the consecrated host to be no longer present. 2 Although some church leaders interpret these signs as today's troubles and thus may see the world as especially hostile to the gospel, I would argue that according to Vatican II our times are today's evangeli-cal opportunity prepared by God's Spirit breathing over the world. 3 Francis Trochu, The Curi of Ars (Rockford, Illinois: TAN Books and Publishers, 1977), pp. 116f. 296[ Gamble If l but touch his clothes. Mark 5:28 Did the soldier who won and wore the seamless robe allow it to touch him? Irene Zimmerman OSF Review for Religiou~ 'JEFFREY MICKLER Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious Itw"googled" the term "difficult people" and instantly o hundred million sites were found. Business managers, owners, and employees are all seeking answers on how to cope with people who are genuinely difficult to get along with. The hilarious 1980 movie Nine to Five told of the revenge three female employ-ees took against their male chauvinist boss. In real life, however, revenge is never a solution, and dealing with difficult people is never really funny. Hence, there are books like Sandra A. Crowe's Since Strangling Isn't an Option. Difficult people drain others' enthusiasm and suck the life out of organizations, as the title Working with You Is Killing Me by Katherine Crowley and Kathi Elster suggests.' Dealing with difficult people in the workplace is one thing. Living with them in a religious commu- Jeffrey Mickler SSP has worked in formation and various other min-istries and was provincial of the Paulists' United States Province. His address is Box 595; 9531 Akron Canfield Road (Rt 224); Canfield, Ohio 44406. 69.3 2010 Mickler ¯ Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious 298 nity raises the bar. Although all of us can be difficult at times, some religious are chronically difficult and even hostile. Augustine Poulain SJ in his 19th-century spiritual classic The lnterior Graces describes one type of difficult religious: Another trial., is living with an irritable person who finds fault with everything, never speaks a pleasant word . These difficult characters often have the reputation of being very amiable abroad because they are full of attention for those whom they need, or those who would not allow themselves to be bullied. These nervous natures may be likened to torpe-does on account of the charges that they let fly at those who .approach them. It is impossible to arrange any matter with them clearly and quietly. Above all, let no one try to excuse himself when they accuse him of anything or [try to] prove to them that they are mistaken . The volcano will then be in full eruption. Such minds will never be in the wrong; they alone are endowed with sound judgment. This behavior shows., a grave lack of charity. In community, characters of this. nature make life very difficult for others, and are sometimes the cause of abandonment of vocations.2 Father Stephen Rossetti, of St. Luke Institute in Silver Spring, Maryland, in his recorded conference Spirituality of Christian Leadership, describes such people as suffering "chronically impaired social functioning." These individuals have "inflexible, maladaptive ways of dealing with other people." Wherever they are sta-tioned, they divide and disrupt communities. Their nat-ural charm ensures that they will have some supporters, but their anger at the world for not revolving around their needs makes them almost impossible to live with. When confronted by authority with a long list of com-plaints, these people blame others and are unable to Review for Religious grasp that they themselves have caused any problems. Father Rossetti points out that they have narcissistic personalities. When confronted, they erupt into a rage that sends shock waves through a community.3 Some of them end up living in their own apartments because provincials can find no communities willing to tolerate daeir divisive behavior. Rossetti says the chances of changing them for the better are extremely slim. Traditional therapies have proven fruitless. He advises giving such persons honest feedback, together with strict and clear guidelines for their behavior. Leaders must be compas-sionate towards them, but firm. ¯ theses.temperaments. The leadership has a responsibility to do all in its power to prevent them from terrorizing the community and running roughshod over people.4 Rossetti's position that modern therapy can do lit-tle to change such characters corresponds to Poulain's 19th-century assessment: "I have seen very religious persons try to cure themselves of this irritability. They have been unable to succeed . I think a miracle is required to overcome these temperaments.''5 Se~in Sammon of the Marist Brothers has done extensive research on dealing with difficult people. Drawing upon the works of Robert M. Bramson, Charles J. Keating, and Robert L. Veninga and James P. Spradley, he has developed a pragmatic and effective ~ have seen very religious persons try t6 cure themselvesof this irritabiiity. I think a miracle 'is rdqyire~:to overcome 69.3 2010 Mickler * Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Religious 300 approach that is presented on tapes from St Pauls/Alba House, Coping with the Genuinely Difficult Person. Like Poulain and Rossetti, Sammon acknowledges that efforts to change truly difficult people are basically fruitless. He suggests, however, ways we ourselves can change in order to better cope with them.6 He lists seven types of difficult people.7 He calls all of the first three types hostile-aggressive: they are "Sherman tanks," "snipers," and "exploders." The Sherman tanks are convinced of their ideas and dominate meetings by discounting out of hand the suggestions of others. They present their own ideas as the only rational, workable thing for the community or committee to adopt. They refer to other approaches as "stupid," a "waste of time," or "ridicu-lous." Sammon suggests meeting the Sherman tanks with calm strength. When the Sherman tanks begin to roll over a meet-ing, the chair should let them go on for a while but then abruptly intervene: "Stop right there; we have heard your objections; now we need valuable input from others." Sherman tanks will most likely add a few new objections until the chair or the presenter interrupts: "We will be covering those objections and discussing them as the meeting goes on!" Participants, present-ers, and leaders need to stand up for themselves against the Sherman tanks, clearly explaining their positions, not backing down, but avoiding a fight. Hostile-aggres-sive individuals almost always "win" in a fight, but the Sherman tanks usually respect such strength. They often do have valid insights that the community can benefit from; it is their ways of behaving that make it hard for the community to consider their input fairly. "Snipers" will make remarks that are just barely audible to the person being targeted. The remarks are Review for Religious biting and sarcastic, and the victim is supposed to laugh them off. These are different fr

Issue 36.1 of the Review for Religious, 1977. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS IS edited by faculty members of St Louis University, the editorial offices being located at 612 Humboldt Braiding, 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. It is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, Missouri. Published bimonthly and copyright @ 1977 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed, and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri. Single copies: $2.00. Subscription U.S.A. and Canada: $7.00 a year; $13.00 for two years; other countries, $8.00 a year, $15.00 for two years. Orders should indicate whether they are for new or renewal subscriptions and should be accompanied by check or money order payable to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS in U,S.A. currency only. Pay no money to persons claiming to represent REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Change of address requests should include former address. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor January 1977 Volume 36 Number I Renewals, new subscriptions, and changes of address should be sent to REVIEW I~OB R~L~GXOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, Minnesota 55802. Correspondence with the editor and the associate editor together with manuscripts and books for review should be sent to B~vi~w Foa R~LmlOUS; 612 Humboldt Building; 539 North Grand Boule-vard; St. Louis, Missouri 63103. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph F. Gallen, S.J.; St. Joseph's College; City Avenue at 54th Street; Philadelphia, Pennsyl-vania 19131. Review for Religious Volume 36, 1977 Editorial Offices 539 North Grand Boulevard Saint Louis, Missouri 63103 Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Robert Williams, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Miss Jean Read, Editor Associate Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor Review ]or Religious is published in January, March, May, July, September, and November 6n the fifteenth cff the month. It is indexed in the Catholic Periodical and Literature Index and in Book Review Index. A microfilm edi-tion of Review ]or Religious is available from University Microfilm; Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. Copyright (~) 1977 by Review ]or Religious. Sand Traps for Renewal Programs Francis Blouin, F.I.C. Brother Blouin, who has written for REVIEW FOR RELI~31OUS before, has recently completed six years of service as provincial, an,d is presently enrolled in a full-time doctoral program in theology at Fordham University. He resides at 93 Park Terra'ce West; New York, NY 10034. ' For more than. ten years now, most of the communities of religious in the United States have made valiant efforts to be attentive to the injunction of Vatican II, Renew Thyself. Considerable energy, valuable time, impressive sums of~ money were expended in a host of activities and programs, in seminars and renewal sessions, in chapters and mini-chapters, in experi-mentation and adaptation. Many congregations which have .not initiated . renewal programs are either dead or dying; however, those that are involved in renewal efforts are not necessarily alive and well. Though it is impossible accurately to evaluate this determined effort, I would like to reflect in the following pages upon some Of the factors which might,have vit.iated the .dreams and the programs so optin~istically conceived and so enthusiastically endorsed. This exercise might ,appear quite negative, but it can help direct our thinking-in an area of renewal that might offer more chance of success, or discover a few,.of the reasons why some pro-grams have produced disappointing results. During the past six years, I was involved in a number oLrenewal pro-grams and was an active member of the Conference of Major Superiors of Men. The following reflections are based in great part upon my. personal observations and my prolonged discussions with superiors, of men.~ My"con-tacts with~religious superiors of women lead me to surmise that the results of their renewal activities are quite similar to those of men religious, though somewhat more encouraging. 4 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 I would classify the sources of tension and frustration in the renewal effort under six headings: 1) Con,versiOn o] Heart; 2)Interiorization of Re-ligious Values; 3) Psychological Factors; 4) American Success Ethic; 5) Influence of Mass Media; and 6) Fragmentation. Conversion of Heart I am absolutely convinced that the most significant factor for the failure of many renewal programs was the fact that too often renewal efforts were based upon external programs which did not lead to a true conversion of heart. We cannot convert ourselves, let alone convert others. Yet we know that the Lord is ever calling us to greater love and fidelity and asking us only to remove the obstacles to his presence. In some religious communities in the 50's and 60's, community prayers were too often a ritualization of set formulas rather than an encounter with the living God present to all life. The prayer life of many religious was based upon an inadequate spiritual formation without sound scriptural basis. Furthermore, most religious were encouraged to develop a certain discretion, even circumspection, in speaking of their God-experiences. Spon-taneous shared prayer was seen as a threat to spiritual modesty and some even hesitated to speak freely and openly to their spiritual director (when they had one!). Thus, prayer was often considered a community activity rather tha~n a personal encounter with the Lord. Unfortunately, some of the religious who were most faithful and regular to the traditional forms of prayer were adamant against any change or adaptation and thus created a negative tension, while some of the most dedi-cated individuals openly questioned the need for prayer, further discrediting the God-encounter. In the 60's, when many communities granted religious considerable freedom in their prayer life, many religious simply ceased to pray rather than replace community prayers by longer, more intense periods of individ-ual prayer. Pragmatic, work-oriented Americans had been educated to recite prayers, to chant psalms, to meditate cognitively, but had been given woefully little education in contemplation and little incentive to be open to this vital form of prayer. They had been so active doing that they forgot that prayer was: .waiting, receiving, listening, centering, contemplating, creating a void, being open to the small still voice within, being present to a Presence. While they scurried from program to program and from .activity to activity, they'forgot to sit attentively and listen to the Lord speaking within. Man~y communities ~are now re-directing their renewal efforts, and it is this new orientation to a more contemplative stance that is giving new reason for hope. Communities that are still discussing "whether one should pray if one doesn,t feel like praying" or "whether one's work is one's prayer" are not in process of renewal: they are dying. Sand Traps Ior Renewal Programs Commuriities lose their raison d'etre unless they are gatherings of men and women of God whose lives find their meaning and sustenance in a personal relationship to Christ and provide moments and occasions of con-version of heart, an ever-to-be-renewed process. .,~'Without' personal prayer, a deeply religious life ~simply cannot develop, because no one can be a witness to Christ unless he knows Christ personally.'" ~ lnteriorization of Values A value has little influence upon a person unless it has been interior-ized: adequately formulated, clearly understood, generously accepted. Yet it is the unusual person who has interiorized his true values early in life. A significant number of religious entered religious life at an early age and quite often during their initial formation period, they were asked to conform to certain standards or to adopt definite procedures, more through trust in a person or a Rule, than through a reasoned, logical.process. "They were not to question why, they were to do ~and die." There are no shortcuts to an authentic religious formation which is a life-long process of growth in the understanding, acceptance and love of gospel values. Values cannot be legislated or decreed. They must be freely accepted after a long process of reflection and contemplation. It-is evident that this was not always done. Some religiou.s were willing to conform to set values when the external structures and the social climate supported and re-enforced these values/but they later discarded the same values be-cause these had not been properly interiorized. Long-established practices were~ often quickly abandoned because no rationale had been given for them. To try tO return to a system of regimentation.would be futile. "Religious life.with its demands of chastity, poverty, obedience and perpetual commit-ment can only be understood by a fully adult person . There are certain things, such as the need for affection, the security of a home, certain en-gagements and above all an affirmed need for independence, which a person cannot renounce too soon without doing himself harm., for a minimum of human maturity.is necessary to enter the religious life, and this minimum . may be long in coming,''~ Religious must .!iv, e in authentic freedom, the gospel freedom which is "not the power to choose between several possibilities, but is the reasoned ¯ decision, springing from the person's inmost depths, which causes him to follow at any price tl~e course that appears to be God's will. It is not a question of 'do as you please,' 'do what appeals to you,' but 'do coura-geously what you know your God has called you to accomplish.' This free-dom is linked with the inner power that enables each person to fulfill himself 1Ladislas Orsy, Open to the Spirit, p. 245. . ~Ren6 Voillaume, Con]erence o! Religious Superiors, Feb. 1970. 6 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 in terms of his truth, by. making a choice that is absolutely Consistent with his fundamental calling.''3 . This is the freedom that will give religious the desire, the conviction and the strength to live the gospel values of simplii:ity, poverty, celibacy for the kingdom, a life of contemplation and service, a life that is attentive to the call of the Spirit. The example of all revolutions certainly must have taught us that free-dom has to be learned. Tillard states that "it is essential to ~ve all members of the group an education in freedom; that is the first task of authority, the initial effort that 'precedes its fruitful ~xercise.''4 If values must be interiorized through a long reflective process, then it is useless for ~religious communities to attempt~ renewal through legislative reforms or by the imposition of new structures: The most important role of superiors is to establish in the community conditions that will. permit a true conversion o/. heart, encourage religious to~ deepen and strengthen their personal convictions, and promote~an atmosphere that will facilitate a true encounter,with each other and with the Lord. Psychological Factors ~ ~ During the p.ast ten years,~religious educators have generally stressed the values of openness, flexibility, adaptability, creativity, confidence, per-sonalism, sharing; and the initial formation programs areofrequently offered in one's normal milieu," This is quite different from the policies of the early 60's when Cardinal Suenens could state that the Church kvas in a period of "immobilism"; religious communities were strongly affected by this attitude. Religious educators stressed the values of conformity, perm.anence, stability, humility, obedience, self-denial; and religious formation was re-enforced by long periods of isolation from normal environments. Religious perfection was often considered conformity to set norms as proposed by the rules of the order. This radical change of attitude towards religious :formation is one bf the most significant develoPments of the past fifteen years. Formatioia is now seen ~is an on-going' process of growth,~ an ever-to-be-renewed activity e~nd-ing only at death. To have ceased to grow is already to have died. However, it was totally unrealistic and overly optimistic Co presume that religious who spent long years of their lives in a different value System, who were rarely e~ncouraged to share deeply, who were isolated at an early age, who were~often the victims of poor psychological practices, would b~ able to 'assume this radically different stance withrut deep anguish. That.many leaders greatly underestimated the difficulty of this adaptat~on and this over-sight partly explains the confusion and disarray of many renewal prograrias. :'I. M. R. Tillard, A Gospel Path, p. 73, Lumen Vitae Press, Belgium 1975. 4j. M. R. Tillard, ibid., p. 199. Sand Traps [or Renewal Programs / 7 It is a .credit to religious that so many were able to adapt and re-orient their thinking without major difficulty. I. would dare say that mhny religious communities are now plagued by the after-effects of .unsound and poorly adapted initial formation programs. I also believe this partly explains'why so many religious have a poor self-concept, have difficulty sharing at a value level, do not easily adjust to new situations. They were educated to stability and permanence when "one must now accept the. radicality of change, change that must go°right down to the roots . Change must be built into our systems so that they incor-porate flexibility and adaptability . The asceticism of today is to accept the agony of change. That's the discipline. It means study, dialogue, meet-ings, discussions, until you're sick of them. When you're sick, get healed and go back to the discussions.":' Religious communities should be. composed of individuals whom the love of Christ has so moved that they have given themselves 'totally to his cause and have united to transmit this love to others. They share their faith and their~ love and together build a community of believers, a com-munity of Christians. This can only be achieved in a real dialogue of love. American Success Ethic "There is nothing that succeeds .like succ6ss," and in the,50's and 60's, American religious wet6 "winners." They were highly respected, they en-joyed a privileged pbsition~in~ the ~urch and in society, their fiaembershilJ was increasing, and they .directed large, well-reputed institutions. They wanted to succeed, and they worked long hours for causes th~y esteemed yery highly. Too often however, they gauged their success according to human criteria rather than gospel values or by the authenticity of their witness to the Good News. One does not become a religious for human motives, but there is no doubt that success, respect, prestige, influence were definitemorale boosters for. pragmatic Americans. Because of past recognition and achievements it is now more difficult for religious to. accept rejection, failure; disalSproval, scorn. When. their apostolic work is questioned, their institutions closed, their values rejected; their ranks depleted, they become disheartened unless they remember that they _are simply being treated like the Mhster who was scorned, rejected, crucified. ~ Religious were so closely tied to their institutions that at times they confused means with ends, forgetting that they were first and foremost messe0gers of the gospel rather than professional workers. "To the degree to which an end is spiritual, the means employed to attain it are always inadequate. In fact, when speaking of a spiritual end, it is preferable today ~Fr. Cassian Yuhaus, C.P., Con[erence to Religious, Winslow, ME, Nov. 1975. Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 to avoid the word 'means,' for to our contemporaries the word evokes an action which obtains exactly the effect envisaged,''6 This period of confusion and turm6il may become for religious a period of great creative tension. Though their lives and their activities a~re in-carnated in a specific work-situation which may project few signs of human success, their gospel vision will enlighten an apparently hopeless situation and give their religious consecration its full depth of meaning. "Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single grain; but if it dies, it yields a rich harvest . Anyone who loves his life will lose it; anyone who hates his life in this world° will keep it for eternal life" (Jn 12:24-26). Now more than ever it is necessary, for religious to ponder the gospel message of failure, of inefficiency, of rejection, of death,,as well as the com-plementary message of success through failure, of life through death, of resurrection through annihilation. Father Pasquier states that: "It is impossible to bein communion with another before we have experienced our own poverty and our limitations. The quality of presence to others entails a risk of rejection. It is a risk that religious are called to take and from which they should not be sheltered by their vows.''7 Religious are now in the privileged position of experiencing their poverty and their weakness and are thus better able to commune with the weak and the rejected as well as with the strong and the respected. Influence of Mass Media Whether religious realize it or not, many have been gravely affected by the historical process of secularization. Some religious are now totally in-serted into a professional work-environment and they may have accepted almost imperceptibly many of the secular values so effectively propagated by mass media. The message of self-and~sense-gratification is in direct op-position to the gospel imperatives. , Self-denial and personal ascesis are in such ill repute that some religious have unwittingly accepted many of the pseudo-values and prevalent sophisms adroitly disseminated by our sense-sated society. It is never a pleasant prospect to accept experientially the reality of Christ's call to self-denial, but to speak seriously of renewal in religious life and ignore the injunction~ "Let him who wants to be my disciple, deny himself and take up his cross and follow me" (Mt 16:24), is nonsense. Very often religious simply do not realize the extent to which they are C'R6gamey, L'exigence de Dieu, p. 86, Quoted by Voillaume, Conlergnce o] Religious Superiors. :Jacques Pasquier, O.M.I., "Conference~on Spiritual Leadership." Sand Traps ]or Renewal Programs / 9 victimized by .mass media or subtly controlled by their professional en-vironment. Religious strove so strenuously for so many years to be fully integrated into the American culture that they forgot that by their religious consecration they had vowed to be "counter cultural." Some have suc-cumbed to the temptation of living a progressively more affiuent life-style or have been blinded by the glitter of wealth and the prestige of social status. It is useless to speak of renewal until the stark gospel message can once more be heard over the din of television commercials. "Where supposedly committed persons~seem to enjoy all the good things of life, the witness value is destroyed and not unusually, the whole person's sense of vocation along with it. He has fallen into the mistake not simply of imagining that things and experiences can make him happy, but that fulfillment or happi-ness itself can be directly sought.''8 Ordinary professional and religious obligations ,are certainly the main ingredients of a life of ascesis, yet Father George Maloney, S.J., in a course on prayer at Fordham University dared state: "It is impossible to make significant progress in prayer unless one is willing to practice ascesis with aggression." He was simply echoing St. John of the Cross: "Contemplation or detachment or poverty of spirit . are almost one and the same thing.'"' A life of authentic poverty, of generous service to others, of sensitivity to the Spirit, of loving celibate commitment, of creative solitude, of constant attentiveness to the Lord, are not possible unless one willingly accepts" the Lord,s clear challenge to self-denial. Many renewal efforts have come to naught because religious refused to pay the price. ~ Fragmentation I previously mentioned that' some of the values that are now cherished by certain religious communities are those of flexibility, openness, adapiabil-ity, creativity, personalism and I also indicated that most communities now permit a wide choice of apostolic works: All these positive values are to be respected, but if they are taken separately without consideration for stabil-ity,: permanence and community commitments, they can lead to a fragmenta: tion of the group, a qoss of identity with the community and an impover-ishment of the sense of missi6n. For a religious, "to do his own thing" or "to go his own way" may be an, acceptable temporary solution to a difficult problem, but it will rarely be satisfactory in the long run. Many communities have a number of religious "on the fringe" members who are hardly associated with the larger group either in body or in spirit. If this trend becomes .generalized, it could be disastrous for the communities. SRichard Jo Kropf, "Radical Commitment and Fulfillment," Spiritual LiJe, Summer, 1975, p. 91. ~'John of the Cross, Dark Night, I, Chap. 4, par. 1. Review [or Religious, V~lume 36, 1977/1 "A community cannot exist long in the Church, unless it is dedicated to giving collectively.''1° Furthermore, it. is not sufficient for individuals to 6e renewed. The whole community, or a significant number of members, must make deter-mined efforts at renewal. 'In every community there are a number of re-ligious who have: come alive during the past years, but sometimes these members are stymied or frustrated by a lethargic~ apathetic group. "For a revitalization to occur, transformation must go beyond the personal. It must penetrate and reshape the. social reality of the community. If the cen-tering of personal-transformation is ekperienced~:by a number ~of people within the community, then a network can emergd through which that trans-forming experience is '~ustained, supported, enhanced. As the sharing of transformational experiences and awareness deepens and intensifies, there emerges a group with a shared vision and codamitment~.~This group becomes a revitalizing force dedicated to building more rewarding community ex-periences and recovering the gripping attraction to living according to Christ's conditions.for .evangelical discipleship.'''1 When this revitalization occurs to'a significant number of people in the cbmmunity great things~ begin to happen, a new life pulsates through the group and a spirit (Spirit?) comes alive in the community._ Possible Orientations It is impossible' for me to indicate what could or should be done by each community to promote a true renewal. Let me simply raise a few ques-tions that may suggest some possible orientations in groups seriously dedi-cated to renewal. l. Are the difficulties~experienced by many communities in organizing community discussions that are a true faith-sharing,due mainly to psy-chological factors, poor knowledge of group dynamics, or weak religious motivations? What .specific steps have been. taken by your community to facilitate this meaningful exchange? 2. Is it POssible for ygu, for your community to live with insecurity, contradiction, rejection? IS this contrary to the gospel teaching? 3. How does your co,,mmunity determine the priorities of personnel, of time~, of resources in selecting an apostolic work? If apostolic choice is left to the individual, what efforts are made to determine a priority .of ac-tivity? 4. Has your community ever tried to gauge the ~impact of mass media upon community values? How many religious in your community are slaves to the "one-eyed monster?" a~°Ladislas Orsy, "Talk, given to Conference of Major JSuperiors,:' America, August 8, 1970, p. 59. ~Lawrence Cada and Raymond iZitz, REVIEW FOa REL~OOS, Vol. 34, No. 5, p. 716. Sand Traps ]or Renewal Programs 5. Is contemplation a common and regular form of individual prayer in your community? What is the attitude of the community towards this form of prayer? ~ 6. Do you define yourselves in terms of your work or in terms of your status? What conclusions can you draw from this? 7. What percentage of the religious in your communities have partici-pated in some more prolonged renewal program within the last three years? five years? eight .years? What does this indicate about your group? 8. Is the life-style in your communities consonant with a religious com-mitment to poverty? In what way? 9. "Christian leadership is accomplished only through service. This service requires the willingness to enter into a situation with all the human vulnerabilities a man has to share with his fellowman" (Henri Nouwen, Wounded Healer, p. 77). Does this quotation quite adequately portray, your district and com-munity leaders? 10. What is the community attitude towards tension? When is it a positive sig9 of growth? When is it a negative factor in the community? 11'. Do community discussions occasionally lead to specific decisions which can be implemented? Why is it so difficult to reach a consensus when specific proposals are suggested? 12. Are religious in your community personally affected by the plight of the 450,000,000 people in the world who are on a starvation diet? What specific activities have been taken by your community to alleviate this situa-tion? 13. Do religious in your community have the freedom to challenge each other to fidelity to sacred promises publicly expressed? If not, what does this indicate? - 14. Do your communities have an effective way of evaluating~the initial formation program? 15. Are long-term institutional: commitments still possible or desirable? How are these to be implemented if everyone is free to choose his own apostolic activity? , Let me conclude by a quo.tation from Father Ladislas Orsy: "Since re-ligious life is the existential gift of God, any question about the future of religious life is a question about the future ~of God's abundance in the Church, about the dynamic action of the Holy Spirit among his pebple-- thus it is not, subject ~to human power. If God gave this gift in the past, he is not likely to deprive, his Churcl~ of it in,the future.''~ V-'Ladislas Orsy, op. cit., p. 21. Seven-hundred-and-fifty years later: Reflections on the Franciscan Charism Eric Doyle, O.F.M. Fr. Eric Doyle, O.F.M. teaches at the Franciscan Study Centre, Canterbury CT2 7NA. Kent, England. This year marks the seven-hundred-and-fiftieth anniversary of the death of St. Francis of Assisi at the Portiuncula on October 3rd 1226. The sources for his life record that larks gathered on the roof above where he lay dying and sang sweetly as he welcomed Sister Death into his life? No one would deny that on that Saturday evening in 1226 a most holy man, a truly human man and a faithful disciple of Christ Crucified passed over to God. And the earth was made the poorer for that passing. Already in various parts of the world there have been courses of lec-tures and celebrations to mark the event and there will be quite a few more before the year has ended. Eulogies will be made in many languages and no doubt St: Francis from his place in heaven will hear himself hailed again as "Patron of the Environment" and "Patron of Ecumenism." The anniversary provides a good opportunity for a Franciscan to reflect on the order's efforts to come to terms with the demands to rediscover its own charism made over the last decade or so since the Second Vatican Council.-Though my ~primary concern is the First Order of Franciscans, and specifically the Order of Friars Minor, I think these reflections will have some relevance for the Conventuals, the Capuchins and the various branches of the Third Order Regular as well, for it is the same charism aSee "Legend of Perugia," 110, in St. Francis o] Assisi. Writings attd Early Biogra-pities, English Omnibus Edition o] the Sources ]or the Li]e o] St. Francis. Ed. by Marion A. Habig. Franciscan Herald Press, ChiCago 1973, 1085-1086. ~ . , Reflections on the Franciscan .Ch~arism / 13 which ultimately inspires them all. These reflections may have even wider relevance. Orders which lead the so-called "mixed" life share many of the same problems in facing the demands of renewal. The Question of Poverty These pages contain no detailed analysis of poverty. In the case of an order which has been so intimately assdciated wiih the profession of pov-erty, this calls for a word of explanation. For the Franciscan Order the question of poverty is ambiguous. It can be a very complicated question and it can be a very simple question, according to the approach one takes to it. For the order as it is de facto organized in the world, poverty is a complicated question. It cannot be examined or discussed in any realistic or satisfactory way if it is isolated from the findings of biblical exegesis and the understanding of poverty in the bible, from a study of all the ele-ments contained in the idea of evangelical perfection which relati;cize the place of poverty in the life and writings of St. Francis, 'from the question about the extent and effectiveness of apostolic activity; and from the de-mands made on the order to find resources to cope with and provide for the numbers who seek to enter it. No one would deny that the Franciscan Order should bE involved in work among the poor. At the theoretical level this is almost a truism for. the Franciscan. At the practical level, however, it is no easy matter to de-termine who precisely are the poor today. While the term certainly covers the homeless, th'e destitute, the oppressed and the exploited, it may also be used to describe countless millions all over the globe who ar~ spiritually impoverished. But even when we have arrived at a moderat~ely sa!isfactory answer to the question': Who are the poor?, we find at once that there are required no mean resources, for example, to have a friar trained to be a ~ompetent and reliable apostle among social outcasts. For the order to providd re-sources to train a friar as a professional social worker is a deeply Christian work and a tremendous act of service to the world. : On the°'~other hand, the question of poverty can be very simple. If a person reads the accounts of the early history of the order and is convinced that the poverty which St. Francis and his first companions embraced is the unique charism of the order, and feels assured that he is called to do the. same, then that person must go and do likewise and thus institute a new branch of the Franciscan Order in the world. The same obligation, it seems, would rest upon a professed friar who became conscientiously convinced that the order has sacrificed an essential element of its charism and mission to the wrrld in abandoning the poverty of St. Francis. He would be bound quite simply to leave the order as it is and to establish another form of the Franciscan life. It would be pointless to ask him where he would go, because, from that moment onward, total ' 14 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 abandonment to divine providence would be of the structure of his voca-tion, and he would literally have to wait for something to turn up. What he certainly cotild not do would be to stay in the order as it is now consti-tuted, passing away his days in criticizing it and growing old in bitterness, while living by its resources and in its security. Perhaps at the very outset we ought to familiarize with these difficulties all who seek to join us. They would then be able to make such considerations a conscious factor in their decision to join us or not. We should also make sure they know by experi-ence that the gospel spirit of St. Francis does live on in the order, despite the fact that his povertyis not observed. I do not wish to suggest that the order as it now finds itself can'simply ignore the question of poverty. In .fact it has not ignored it over the last decade. There have been many attempts to come to terms with it at the practical level. But it remains problematic.~ However, the issue cannot be discussed in these pages, nor can a.ny assessment be made of the at-temp~ s to come to terms with poverty, firstly, because it would take far too lorlg and, secondly, because while it isundoubtedly an important issue, it is not, in our opinion, the most important issue for the life and mission of the order. There are more vital matters to be considered to which we now shall turn: Rediscovery of the Origi'nal Charism, The Second Vatican Council called all religious to rediscover the par-ticular charism given to the Church in the grace of their origins and to renew and adapt their life according to its form. By a proces.s of discernr ment in the light of the gospel and according to the signs of the times-- that is by Word and wprld--religious were required to define the specific ahd permanent acquisition made by the Church in the life and work of their particular order. ~Th, e FranCiscan~ Order, like every order, belongs to the Church. Only in virtue of its ecclesial character can it be understood in its specific genius at any moment of its higtory and as a renewal movement at its origins. Apa.rt from the Church, the Franciscan Order is ultimately meaningless. St. Francis himself was not only a man of the gospel, but also and by that very'fact, he was a man of the Church. Therefore, the attempt by any order 6r congregation to discover its own particular grace is not anexercise in self-analysis, but a profound act of service to the Church. The call to rediscover the original charism ~raised ~t once a question for the Franciscan Order which .has not yet been satisfactorily treated. The question is this: Is the original charism to be sought uniquely in the period between the oi'al approval of the Rule by Pope Innocent and the death '-'We have touched onosome, of these problems in "Reflections on the Theology of Religiou.s Life," REv~:w FOR RELICIOOS, vol. 32, n. 6. Nov. 1973, 1254-1256. Reflections on the Franciscan Charism of St. Francis (1209-1226), or is' it to be sought throughout the first cen-tury of the order's history from the approval of the Rule to the death of John Duns Scotus (1209-1308)? This is not just an academic question, but a matter of some concern to any Franciscan conscious of the profound contribution made to the development of Christology by the Franciscan School, in the first century of its history, The order has beew far :to6 pre-occupied in its renewal program with the period up to the death of St. Francis. This is an unjust .and uncritical restriction of the content of tile Franciscan charism. Of course, the call to rediscover the charism required of us to return to St. Francis himself. About that there is no argument. The complaint being made here concerns the well-nigh exclusive preoccupa-tion with the early years of the order's life, which drasticallyotruncates the order's charism. Many reasons might be suggested to explain this restrictive version of the charism. I wish to single out,the one which bears most responsibility. It is romanticism. Romanticism has exercised far too much influence on judgments of the order's history since the death of St. Francis. It has given the order a bad conscience, especially over the last eighty years or so since Paul Sabatier's views became common patrimony? What we can describe in general terms as the "Fioretti-picture" of the early years, has exercised inordinate influence over the general public and over the scholarly fraternity, particularly its non-Catholic representatives. We need to be on our guard in the presence of romantics. Their understandable sadness at the way the order developed can have the most extraordinary effe°ct on how they .read the sources . ,~,J When the, Franciscan Order, for example, in late fourteenth-century English history is described.by students of Wyclif, Chaucer and Langlan~d ,as "decadent" I have often concluded that we really ought to read in many cases no~t "decadent" but,"different"--that is, different from the little band of beggars which landed at Dover in September 1224 and different from the early days at Rivo Torto. Disapl;ginted and sad romantics are a dangerous breed. The "romantic myth" has had profound .though subconscious influence on the order, It has subtly brainwashed~ us into believing that if only we could repeat as " closely as ,possible the form of life which .S~. Francis led, if only we could do away with the ~whole intellectual edifice which the orde{ constructed for itself, then we would be true and authentic Franciscans. From these remarks it will be clear where we intend to place the locus of the original Franciscan charism. According to our view the original charism is to be sou.ght in the period~from the approval of the Rule in 1209 up to the death of John Duns Scotus in 1308. To return to the sources means, for a Franciscan, a return to the first hundred years of develop- :~Vie de S. Francois d'Assise, l~dition drfinitive (Paris: Fischbache'r, 1931). 16 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 ment in doctrine and life. The fullness of the charism is to be found there and not exclusively in the life and teaching of St. Francis. It is quite legiti-mate, in function of. this, to consider the Franciscan charism under two headings: form of life and Christological doctrine. The first concerns the evolution of the order's life in the thirteenth century. The second concerns the development of the Christology in the Franciscan School in the thir-teenth century. The results of historical analysis show that the form of Franciscan life changed radically from what St. Francis had intended and that the Christological doctrine of the Franciscan School remained totally faithful to his original Christocentric inspiration. The ,Form of Life The foundation of the Franciscan Order in the thirteenth century marked a new stage in the history of the religious life in the Wefftern Church. While it. is clearly the case that St. Francis intended to establish an order in the commonly accepted sense of that term, it is equally clear that he was conscious of its radical newness. According to his intention, the order was to be a brotherhood of itinerant apostles--whether priests or manual workers, or, as we should say today, professional men--who would go into a society that was still Christian and also go out to foreign lands among the ~Saracens, to spread the gospel of peace and reconciliation by the ministry of the Word and the apostolate of presence. For a period of time that intention was realized. Whenever the friars met they showed that they were members of the same fraternity and they offered one another mutual help and support. At the end of their day's work they returned to their small communities to be refreshed bodily and spiritually, to pray together, and to draw strength from their fraternal cele-bration of the Eucharist. Thus renewed and restored, they were able to return to their mission of sharing with others what they themselves had re-ceived so generously from being together in the "local church" 6f their own community. As is universally ~recognized, this did not remain for very long the pat-tern of life of the order. Due to internal tensions and from ~xternal pres-sures from the demands of the apostolate at the time and from the wishes ~f the Holy See, the order was compelled to take a line of development which° radically changed what St. Francis had intended and what the original form of life had been. There are those who look upon this as a Salutary de-velopment, precisely because it took place ultimately under the authority and guidance of the Holy See. While this attitude demands sor~e respect, it also creates difficulties in ,deciding which has priority between the poles of institution and charism. In responding to the call to rediscover its original charism (and it was the institution which gave the call) the Franciscan Order found itself in a slightly embarrassing position. As it retracted the steps of its development Re[tebtions on the Franciscan Charism / 17 through a very checkered history back to the thirteenth centur);, it discovered that.~it was largely due to the institution that an important element in its charism :h~id been lost. The loose structure of its form of life had been heavily instituti6nalized and the fraternity had been "monastified" and "hierarch-ized" almost beyond recognition. Institution and Charism From the outset there has been tension in the Franciscan Order between charism and institution. St. Francis himself, who is always proclaimed as a most obedient son of the Holy Roman Church, managed to get his own way with the wily and astute Pope Innocent IIl. One wonders what would have been the outcome if the pope had refused him permission to live his very distinctive interpretation of the Gospel. Perhaps he would have be-come a hermit. To the end of his days, in any case, he remained convinced that what he desired his order to be was completely at one with the will of God." The turn of events in the thirteenth century gaye the order a very dif-ferent character from that which it possessed in its early decades. The con-stitutional development from the late 1230's up to the Chapter of Nar-bonne in 1260 is the history of a gradual "monastification" of the order. This cannot in justice be laid exclusively at the door of St. Bonaventure, for the winds of change had already been blowing for nearly thirty years when he was elected Minister General." By the end of the thirteenth century the order had been substantially altered, due in 'large measure to the institu-tional Church, for what were undoubtedly the most laudable ends. Of course, there were also internal reasons for the change and it would '1See Lawrence C. Landini, The Causes o] the Clericalization O[ the Order o] Friars Minor 1209-1260 in the Light o] Early Franciscan Sottrces (Chicago: Franciscan Herald Press, 1968). We have given rio consideration here to St. Bonaventure's theology of history nor to his eschatological interpretation of the life of St. Francis. These highly developed aspects of St. Bonaventure's thought played no significant part in the order's self-understanding and program of renewal during the past decade. For this reason we have not touched on his solution of the "Franciscan Question." This omission, therefore, should not be understood as a value judgment. Our concern is ¯ with those aspects of the original charism which have been re-discovered and, with varying degrees of success, reduced to practice, and with other aspects which deserve further consideration, which ought to influence the o.rder's continuing renewal. St. Bonaventure's eschatological interpretation of St. Francis is, in our view, the most satisfactory solution to the problem about th~ order's relation to St. Francis. It is, however, not only, satisfactory; it is" also fully consonant with the way the early sources present him and the ~rimitive community. It has most relevance in any dis-cussion of Franciscan poverty, for it raises the question not only whether the order can or cannot observe St. Francis' poverty, but whether or not it is even meant to observe it. To assess St. Bonaventure's place in the development of the order in the thii'teenth century, without taking into serious account his theology, of history and his eschatological interpretation of St. Francis, leads to profound misunderstanding of that development and commits injustice against St. Bonaventure. Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 be unhistorical to place responsibility entirely on the Holy See.-It is no idle speculation to ponder what the order might have been, had it not experi-enced the process of clericalization in the thirteenth century and had Friar Elias not alienated so many while he held office. But in the final analysis, one is compelled to conclude that the Holy See can hardly be :said to havi~ done all in its power to preserve what St. Francis so plainly intended. This was the result of tension between charism and institution. The Church ha~s known this tension in varying degrees of intensity ever since the New Testament, and perhaps." never so acutely as over the last two decades. Tension arises precisely because both institution and charism proceed from the grace of God. Charisms are given to the Church for the sake of the institution; the prophet is alw~iys sent to renew the institution. The sad story is, however, that so often the institution resists the charism because'it threatens the established order; it leads out into the unknown and the uncharted. The temptation for the institution is always to neutralize a charism by institutionalizing it. This is not done maliciously or even con-sciously. But it is done and it is done effectively. The intentions of St. Francis could not easily be categorized. They were not neat and tidy, cut and dried, but on the contrary, like himself; paradoxical and a fraction complicated. I have never believed that this passionate, romantic and ambitious young man was ever as simple as some of his biographers have inade out. Of course, he did not have a legal mind; he had the soul of a poet'sand poets are notoriously difficult to pin down. In his own head ior perhaps better: in his own heart) everything was crystal clear: he. wanted to 'live the life of the gospel according to the form that God 'had revealed to him. One can sympathize with Rome, ithei:efore,t whose genius has always been principa!ly of the legal order. How does one categorize an intention that expresses itself in a Rule for itinerant apostles which is identified with the gospel, and in another for hermitages that al-lows for a change of rbles between Martha and Mary according to what seems best for the moment? Aspects of the Charism Rediscovered In going back to its original inspiration, the Franciscan Order knew in its heart that,~it simply could not recreate in our time the full intentions of St. Francis. However, it has mandged to reintroduce some of the essential elements of his charism, and what it has done is a sple6did achievement. 1. Over the last ten years the order has "de-monastified" itself and restored in principle its truly fraternal character. It is now more obviously an Order of Friars, some of whom are engaged in priestly work, others in manual work inside'~and outside the order and still others who Are engaged in professional work. There is a deep consciousness of what it means e~xistenti~ally to be a Franciscan friar. This consciousness is growing alsace and it will ultimately be in complete possession. Reflections on the Franciscan Charism / 19 2. There has also been a gradual "de-clericalization" of the order. This does not necessarily mean a reduction in the number of priests (though this will happen, I think) nor does it imply, nor should it ever have im-plied, an anti-priest complex, The order was unfortunately plagued .with that complex for a period after the Council. To be a priest does not neces-sarily mean to be clericalized. There are many young priests, middle-aged p~iests and elderly priests in the order who are most certainly not clerical-ized; but then there are some who .are. Clericalization creates an elite and a,:caste system. There is no true place for an elite or a caste system in the Franciscan Order, nor, for that mat~.er, .in the Church at large. The Church knows no hierarchy of persons but acknowledges only a hierarchy of func-tions and at its pinnacle is service. Moreover, authority has been restored to its original role, according to the understanding of St. Francis, as a ministry and service to the friars. This has had its influence also on the gradual abolition of hierarchical structures from the order. 3. Experiments of living the Franciscan life in small communities have proved in the main successful and have undoubtedly enriched the quality of community life. This has been one of the most significant contributions of all our efforts to restore the fraternal character of the order. There have been losses, excesses and mistakes. But these are negligible when compared with the gains, the openness and the insights we have harvested. Franciscan life in small communities or groups has. proved to be far more demanding on the individual friar than it ever ~was in the heavily structured .forms of life we knew for so long, Our experiences have taught us that life in small communities requires a high degree of human and Christian maturity: For life thus lived is a creative process, not a structured, unchanging pattern into which one is fitted. 4. Many of these small communities have been established in the center of towns and cities where the realities of modern living, its pressures and demands may be witnessed and experienced at first hand. A number of friars in such communities have taken up ~work in social organizations often not' instituted by the Church nor directly connected with it. These developments have given concrete expression to other aspects of the original charism and primitive form of life. Unlike~the older monastic orders, the friars settled in the heart~ iof towns and cities where they were brought face to face with the social evils of the time: As a result, the Franciscans were closely con-nected with the foundation of medieval guilds, the ,distant0ancestors of the modern trade unions. They supported the organization of workers into guilds. which protected the legitimate material interests of the workers and fur-thered their spiritual lives. Some of the charters of these guil~ls were drawn up in the refectories of the friars or on the altars of their churches. Later on, in the fifteenth century, the iniquities of t~sury led the Franciscans to establish the Montes Pietatis--an institution which guarantees them a place for all time in social history. All these developments may be traced back 20 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 to St. Francis himself who, from the outset of his conversion, was involved in caring for lepers, one of the greatest social evils of the Middle Ages. The modern form of the apostolate of presence: living at the heart of urban life and working from within non-ecclesiastical social structures, is really a reduction to practice of The Canticle o[ Brother Sun 'and of St. Bonaventure's beautiful work On Retracing the Arts to Theology. For the Franciscan there is no distinction between the sacred and the profane. The problems of what is described as secularization prove for a Franciscan to be false problems~ This is now simply man's world and man is made in the image of Christ and Christ is the image of the Father we cannot see. The Spirituality of St. Francis The rediscovery of the basic elements of Franciscan spirituality has been the most rewarding of all. A comparative study of the spirituality of the Conciliar documents and the writings of St. Francis shows how incredibly modern this very medieval man turns out to be. His spirituality is simply Jesus Christ. The thoroughly biblical and sacramental, above all eucharistic, char-acter of his piety and holiness make it clear that it was our spirituality and practices of piety that had to be brought up-to-date, renewed and reformed, not his! There is nothing nauseating about his spirituality, nothing repulsive about his piety. There° is not one line, not one word, in the expressions of his evangelical holiness that need be changed, corrected or expunged. He loved the God-Man in all his poverty and humanity, in all his kindness and suffering. He loved him absolutely, without qualification. He loved Christ not only with his whole heart, but with his whole soul and mind and strength. His conversion was complete because it was born of love. Every-thing he said and sang, everything he desired and longed for, his every though and deed, came from and led back directly to his love of Jesus Christ. The most distinctive feature of his holiness is its tenderness. And it bears that feature because he was a passionate man. He did not extinguish in himself the fire of passion; he redirected it by grace into the love of Christ, where it burned more ardently in the all-consuming flame of the love of Christ's heart for the Father and for all creation. Our renewed understanding of the totally Christocentric spirituality of St. Francis has Shown the order that in its common life of prayer it does not need a multiplication of devotions and practices of piety. To: be faithful to the spirituality of St. Francis requires of the friars to live and work, to think and pray;" after the example of the life Jesus led on earth, by the power of his glorified existence with the Father, in the beauty of his vestiges and images in creation, according to the message of his Word, through his selfless love in the Blessed Eucharist and together with his brethren in the Church. All of which may be summarized by saying that we must live by his threefold presence in our midst; his verbal presence (the proclamation Reflections on the Franciscan Charism of the gospel, among us); his sacramental presence (preeminently the eucharistic celebration); his mystical,.pregence (the community of believers which gathers to proclaim and celebrate his victory over death and his faith-ful witness' to love). The Tension That Remains "~ None of these changes according to~ the form of the original charism has been achieved without suffering and bitterness; This is the sad side. to the history' of renewal and reform in the Church generally. However, it was an inevitable and predictable concomitant to the renewal from the begin-ning and it is,'rooted in the tension between institution and charism. The movement for reform initiated by the Council brought to the surface two diametrically opposed views of the Church which have been labeled, not satisfactorily though not unjustly, as reactionary-conservative and liberal-progressive. The fears of the former soon turned to suspicion; the enthusi-asm of the latter speedily became intrlerance. And for a time the .result was deadlock and suffering on both sides. Tension between institution and charism can be healthy and construc-tive. It can also be deadly and,destructive if attitudes polarize. As an out-come of the changes in the order's form of life there was a polarization of attitudes. Two basic attitudes emerged which differed radically about what had taken place and" what were being predicted as the .lines of future development. The attitudes correspond to the labels reactionary and liberal. The tension between these polarized attitudes 'is by no means as acute now as it was five years ago, but it is still present. From a state of complete in-ability to communicate, a modus vivendi was eventually found, based on an unspoken and precarious truce to steer clear of all that might open the wounds. Now, thanks to more openness ~on the one side and.greater tolerance on the other, the truce has given place to a willingness to dialogue and the gigns areothat the tension will become creative. Up to the present, however, while having had some creative and productive effect, it has been largely negative and counter,productive. Two "orders" have been existing side by side in the one order. But now the signs are that they are growing towar~s unity once more. This tension continues to exist in varying degrees of intensity through-out all the provinces of the order. To a greater or less extent it concerns every aspect of the charism in relation to our form of life and every attempt to reduce it to practice. But the deepest tension has been caused by the opposing views on what may be described as the order's apostolate of presence. The one view maintains that it is our vocation to engage in priestly ministerial work, in charitable works centered upon our friaries ~and in domestic works within the friaries, which latter ensure that they remain habitable and in good condition, so that the former works may be carried 22 / Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 on with competence and efficiency. To these works the major part of the order is now committed and thi~ commitment has come to pass by the demands made upon us and the indications given to us by °the institutional Church, whether the Holy See or the diocesan bishops. These works; it is argued, have been assigned to us by the 'authority of the Church and there-fore they are clearly what we are meant to do unde'i: God: Furthermore, they put us in direct contact with the evolution of the order as this took place under the guidance of the Holy .See in the thirteenth century. This is a version of the adage, "Roma locuta est"; it gives priority to the institu-tion. It maintains that priestly work is the ~paradigm of the Franciscan apostolate. This view is prepared to admit that some friars might well work in other forms of the apostolate which are .neither priestly nor ministerial nor centered upon a friary. These forms of the"apostolate, however, have significance only insofar as they~ proceed ultimately from the priestly min-istry and eventually lead back to it. The other view maintains that it is our vocation to spread the gospel message by our presence in the world. This can be fulfilled in a large variety of ways; by priestly ministerial work and charitable works centered upon our friaries; by priestly ministerial work and charitable works not centered upon our friaries; by domestic work inside and, outside our friaries; by professional work outside the friaries in ecclesiastical institutions-or non-ecclesiastical institutions~ by taking up salaried trades and professions out-side ecclesiastical institutions. This view, it is argued, is in direct continuity with the earliest years of the order's history and is a version of the saying of St. Francis that the Holy Spirit is the Minister General of the Order; it gives priority to the original charism. It holds that there is no special paradigm for the Franciscan apostolate and that the order must balance the demands made by the institution with the clear requirements of the charism, even if this means that we may have to sacrifice some of the areas in which we are exclusively committed to priestly ministerial work. Due to circumstances we could neither foresee nor control, these two views eventually reached the compromise of co-existence and then entered into dialogue. The circumstances which brought them together were the overall decrease in numbers of those entering the order, the high figure of those who left the order and an extraordinary awareness of the original charism among the majority of those who seek to enter~the order. This last phenomenon is remarkable, Its major effect has been that entrants to the order express their vocation simply in terms of wanting to be friars with-out further qualification.This is a reliable sign of how the future of the order will evolve. Christology and the Franciscan School . Earlier in this paper we insisted that the original charism of the order is to be sought not exclusively in the life and teaching of St. Francis but Reflections on the Franciscan Charism in the whole period that extends to the death of Duns Scotus, the last of the major representatives of the Franciscan School of Theology. We must examine the reasons which jrstify this position. During the period up to the death of Duns Scotus theologians of the order worked out a doctrine of the person and work of Christ and of his l~lace in the oikumene and cosmos that is as beautiful as it is original and as inspiring as it is profound. It stands out as a remarkable contribution to the development of Christology in the Church. Any study'or presentation of the original F.ranciscan charism that limits itself to the life of St. Francis not only misrepresents that charism, but also does disservice and injustice to the Church by depriving her of what,belongs to her by right. The Christo~ logical teaching of the Franciscan School is as much an essential element of the Franciscfin charism as is the fraternal character of the early order, ,the apostolate of presence, the Rule o/ 1221, the Rule ]or Hdrmitages, The Canticle of Brother Sun and the Rule of 1223. What Fr. Zachary Hayes, O.F.M. has written about the philosophy of education in the spirit of St. Bonaventure, may be applied without qualification to the Christological doctrine of the whole Franciscan School: : Those of us who stand heirs to that tradition have a weighty obligation to ~ee that such a tradition be not lost and that it be brought to bear in our world today. That it should have.come to be deposited with such clarity and power in the order that claims the poor, s~mple man of Assisi as its founder will no doubt puzzle those who tend to limit the meaning of that order in an unhistori-cal and arbitrary way. That its outstanding spokesman should be a Franciscan does not make it the private possession of the order. For what the order car-rieshere as in an earthen vessel is a treasure for the whole of the Church and a heritage for mankind as such. Certainly the order would be unfaithful to its tradition and remiss in its obligation to the Church and the world if'it were not to thke up" this tradition anew, in a creative way, in"a world for which one of the,most pervasive and potentially destructive idols is the ideal of rational control.'~ The Constitutions of the Order The General Constitutions of the order published in 1953 state in Arti-cle 238, par. 6:~.~'In the philosophical and theological faculties the lectors shall earnestly endeavour to follow the Franciscan School; they shall hold in high regard the other Scholastics, especially the Angelic Doctor, .St. Thomas, the Heavenly Patron of,Catholic Schools.''° Despite this exhorta-tion, however, the order as a whole has not endeavored as earnestly as it might have done to follow its own school. The manuals of philosophy and z",Toward a Philosophy of Education in the Spirit of St. Bonaventure," Proceedings ol the Seventh Centenary Celebration o/ the Death o] Saint Bonaventure (The Fran-ciscan Institute: St. Bonaventure, N.Y., 1975), 26-27. 6The Rule and Constitutions o] the Order o] Friars Minor (Rome, 1953), 100. 24 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 theology, ,which were the staple intellectual diet of most of the houses of study in the ordei'~ were composed chiefly by authors of the Thomistic tradition (not always the same as the tradition of St. Thomas!), who tended to reduce the contents of the Franciscan tradition at best to footnotes and scholia, at worst, to being adverse to the thesis advanced. The high place accorded to St. Thomas in Catholic theology and the fact that he received honorable mention in the Code o] Canon Law made him the touchstone of orthodoxy and the gauge of true Catholic doctrine. The second title given to him--the Common Doctor--resulted in every other doctor becoming for the most part decidedly uncommon. In comparing the Dominican and Fran-ciscan Orders we find that the former exalted St. Thomas and tended to forget St. Dominic; the latter exalted St. Francis and tended to forget St. Bonaventure. Thus it is that we speak of the Thomistic School, not the Dominican School; of the Franciscan School, not the Bonaventurian School. This latter designation has further significance, as will be seen below. , In the Revised General Constitutions promulgated by the Minister General in December 1973, it is stated.in Article 20, par. 1: "Mental prayer should be based on the writings and example of Francis and on the teaching of the Franciscan masters. Nevertheless, each friar is free to choose the method~of prayer that suits him"r; in Article 170, par. 2: "Theological edu-cation should be encouraged in the order with special care. The greatest at-tention shouldobe given to the preparation of expert teachers of theology who will administer spirit and life after the intent of Francis and the other masters of the order"; ibid., par. 4: "Where there are no houses of study of the order, students should be given lectures on the~history and teaching of the Franciscan School"8; in the Introduction to Chapter Six: Formation to Franciscan LiIe: "Franciscan pedagogy, according to a thought-plan (dialec-tic) which continually renews itself, takes as its greater and most difficult task to bring together the divine with the human--a process begun by St, Francis and set in logical order by the Masters of the Franciscan School, a process rightly styled "thought in acting"--in other words, love.''° It is to be hoped that the spirit behind these statements in the new Constitutions will prevail over the strange indifference to the Franciscan theological tradition that has characterized the order in modern times and that it will eradicate the dull anti-intellectual element in the order which re-sulted from that fatal romanticism mentioned earlier. This anti-intellectual element has been making itself felt ifl'various parts of the order over the past few years. Its root lies in a subconscious belief that there is something rThe Plan ]or Franciscan Living. The Rule and General Constitutions o[ the Order of Friars Minor (English-Speaking Conference of Provincials: Pulaski, Wisconsin, 1974), 70. ,~ Slbid., 147, 148. °Ibid., 129-130. ~ Re~qections on the Franciscan Charism not quite authentic about a learned Franciscan or a Franciscan who wishes to devote his life to study. The popular picture of the Franciscan friar has had a surreptitious influence on the order. The Franciscan is expected to be a jolly friar, simple to the point of lunacy, preferably rotund in shape and bald into the bargain, rfiddy-face.d and definitely not learned, who trips through the world hoping to get a good dinner, but happy to sing to the sun if he does not. This picture is reproduced each year on hundreds of Christ-mas cards all over the world. (I have made a collection of the more amusing ones!) The irony of the popular picture is that it bears no resemblance what-ever to the first Franciscan, St. Francis himself was a man of joy, but in "no sense could he be called jolly; he had the simplicity of the dove but also the cunning of the serpent, just as the gospel says; he was a small man, thin and emaciated; not bald, but shaven-headed; his skin was delicate and his flesh very spare;1" though not learned in a bookish sense, he knew French, wrote tolerably good Latin, composed a very beautiful song and was ac-quainted with the intricacies of the cloth trade and he had some idea about building. His attitude to learning is at best ambiguous. In any case he ad-vocated reverence for theologians and Scripture scholars and he warned even those who work with their hands not to allow their work to extinguish the spirit of prayer and devotion. Despite Masseron's .fear that if St. Francis were to return to earth today, he would probably consign a Franciscan bibliography to Brother Fire,ll I am convinced that he would not destroy the sermons of St. Anthony, the works of St. Bonaventure nor the third book of Duns Scotus' Commentary on the Sentences. The Development of Christology ,. It is noteworthy and encouraging that the Renewed Constitutions ex-plicitly link the teaching of the Franciscan masters of St. Francis himself. Specifically, the Christological doctrine of the Franciscan School took its origin from the insight of St. Francis into .the absolute centrality of the Word-made-flesh. His spirituality was centered totally on Christ. He gave concrete expression to it in devotion to the Crib, to our Blessed, Lady-- precisely because she made the Lord of Majesty our brother, to the Passion and Cross, to the Word of God in Scripture and to the Blessed Eucharist. To read of the imprinting of the stigmata on his poor body comes hardly as a surprise after a life spent in total conformity to the Gospel Christ. His initial encounter with Christ issued in a desire to imitate the life of a0See the description of St. Francis given in I, Cel. 83 in English Omnibus Edition o[ the Sources, 298-299. 11Alexandre Masseron, The Franciscans. Tr. W. B. Wells (New York, 1932). 4: "What would St. Francis, if he returned to earth today, have to say to anyone who was rash enough to show him a Franciscan bibliography? Is it not to be feared that 'our Brother Fire' would be charged with settling the fate of a work of such un-wieldy uselessness?". 26 / R~view lor Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 Christ in its every detail, to follow in the very footsteps of Christ:To follow the footsteps of Christ was for' Francis to take the Way that leads back to the Father. Though his heart and soul were .centered on the poverty and humility of Jesus in the New Testament, whereby the Rule and life.of his order became, synonymous with observing the gospel, there is no exclusive concern with the so-called,"simple" Jesus of history in the life and writings of St. Francis. He embraced a life of poverty in imitation of Christ who "is the glorious Word of the Father, so holy and exalted, whose coming the Father made known by St. Gabriel the Archangel to the glorious and blessed Virgin Mary, in whose womb. he took on our weak human nature. He was rich beyond measure and yet he and his holy Mother chose poverty.''1"-' This humiliation which the Word of the Father freely chose for our sake, is daily renewed on our altars: "Every day he humbles himself just as he did when he came from his heavenly throne (Ws 18: 15) into the Virgin's womb; every day he comes to us and lets us. see him in abjection, when he descends from the bosom of the Father into the hands of the priest at the altar?'1,~ There are three texts in the writings of St. Francis which in our opinion contain the seeds of the future development of Christology in the Franciscan School. If these were all he had left us, they would be more than sufficient as the foundation of the Franciscan School. The first is to be found in the fifth Admonition: "Try to realize the digqity God has conferred on you. He created and formed your body in the image of his beloved Son and your soul in his own likeness (see GO 1:26).''~4 The second is in the first paragraph of his Letter to All Clerics: "Indeed in this world there is noth-ing of the Most High himself that we can possess and contemplate with our eyes, except his Body and Blood, his name and his words, by which we were created and by which we have been brought back from death to life.''~'~ The third is found 'in the Letter to a General Chapter: "Kissing your feet with all the love I 'am capable of, I beg you to show the greatest possible reverence and honour for the most holy Body and Blood of our Lord Jesus Christ through whom all things, whether on the earth or in the heav-ens, have been brought to peace and reconciled with Almighty God (see .Col l:20).v~ There is a fair amount of deep theology in the writings of St. Francis, but nowhere is this more clearly attested than in these texts. Their depths and the implications they contain will be obvious to any student of St. Bonaventure or Duns Scotus. With regard to the first text, we may ask if St. Francis meant to say that the body of the Word Incarnate was the lz"Letter to all the Faithful" in English Omnibus Edition o] the Sources, 93. a3"First Admonition," ibid., 78. ~4English Omnibi~s Edition, 80; .a~lbid;, 101. ~qbid., 104. Re[tections on the Franciscan Charism blueprint used by God in the creation of Adam? He states explicitly: "He created and formed your body in the image of his beloved Son." The Son as Son has no body; it is the Son as Word-Incarnate who possesses a body. Whether or not St. Francis was aware of the implications of what he wrote, these lines evoke at once Duns Scotus' doctrine of the ~absolute primacy of Christ. Furthermore it would not be difficult at all to trace St. Bonaven-ture's entire theology of creation and incarnation ~back to the two latter texts .we quoted. St. Anthony, St. Bonaventure and Duns Scotus 1. The Christological teaching of the Franciscan School found its earli-est expression in the setmons of St: Anthony of Padua. Already therein we find contained the doctrine of the primacy of Christ, for which Scotus is so justly acclaimed. St. Anthony shows a preference for the symbol of the circle of egression and return of which St. Bonaventure made such pro-found and superb use in his theology of the Word and creation?r 2. It is, however, St. Bonaventure himself who gave the most complete theological formulation to the Christological insights of St~ Francis. He is the mystical theologian par excellence of the Franciscan Order and in him the~ School reached the high point of its development, He belongs to the tradition.in the Church which has its origin in the Greek and Latin Fathers, according to which the work of the theologian and the ministry of preach-ing are understood to be.no more ~than different modalities of one and the selfsame service of the Word of God, Every concrete form in'which St, Francis expressed his devotion to the poor and humble Christ, is paralleled by a mystical work in the Bonaven-turian corpus, For example, to the crib at Greccio corresponds the beautiful work On the Five Feasts of the.Child Jesus; to St. Francis's reverence for the Blessed Eucharist corresponds the work On How to .Prepare for the Celebration of Mass18; to his devotion to the Passion and Cross of Christ correspond St. Bonaventure's The Tree of Life and The Mystical Vine.l'J St. ~Bonav.enture's !heology of the Word may be summarized as follows: the Word is the inner expression of the Father and the world is the outer expression of t_he Son. Creation gives outward expression to the inner Word of the Father, With the advent of man, the Word of God 5s spoken in a ~rSee V. Schaaf, 'O.F.M., Saint-Antoine de Padoue. Docteur de I'Eglise (Montreal: Editions Franciscaines, 1946); T. Plassmann, O.F.M., "St. Anthony the Theologian;" St. Anthony o] Padua Doctor o] the Church: Universal Souvenir o] the Commemora-tive Ceremonies (Washington, D.C., 1946), 49-70. J. Heerinckx, O.F.M., "Antoine de Padoue," Dictionnaire de Spiritualitd~ 1, 714-717. a,~The Works o[ Bonaventure. Tr. Jose de Vinck. Ili: Opuscula, Second Series (Pater-son, N.J., St. Anthony Guild Press, 1966), 197-214; 215-238. V.qbid., I: Mystical Opuscula (Paterson, N.J., St. Anthony Guild Press, 1960), 95- 144; 145-205. Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 radically new way, for it now opens the possibility of the most perfect out-ward expression of God's inner Word in the Incarnation of the Word: the Man, Jesus of Nazareth. By the enfleshmcnt of the Word, the words already spoken by God in every creature throughout all creation can be heard un-ambiguously for what they are: revelations of God. As the Eternal Word is the Center of the Trinity, so the Incarnate Word is the Center of every-thing outside the 'Trinity. Nothing can be known unless it is known through Christ. At every level and in all orders of reality Jesus Christ is Mediator. To have true knowledge of God, man and the cosmos we must take faith as our starting point. From this we may then proceed to reason in order to know whatdt may discover about God, man and the cosmos.-"° This latter aspect of St. Bonaventure's world view has a relevance today which it would be difficult to overestimate. It concerns particularly the separation between philosophy of God and theology in Catholic institutes of education which has had deplorable effects on intellectual formation.'-'1 A return to the con-creteness of St. Bonaventure's method will teach us to distinguish, but not separate, a philosophy of God from theology. The correct method is to treat the theology of God first. After St. Clare I know of no one who loved St. Francis more than St. Bonaventure did. His sermons on St. Francis show him to have agonized in loving astonishment at what God had done in the person and life of the poor Francis of Assisi.~'-' Everything St. Bonaventure strove after in his study of the Word of God he found realized in St~ Francis. Of all the vir-tues which St. Francis possessed, St. Bonaventure avowed that he admired most his poverty and humility. He laid.down at the feet of St. Francis the powers of his brilliant mind and the rich treasures of his wide and deep learn-ing. Thus it was in his own act of humility that St. Bonaventure proved that after all a learned man can be holy and be saved! ,~ 3. In the teaching on the absolute primacy of Christ, Duns Scotus put the final touches to the Christological doctrine of the Franciscan School. The '-'°For recent presentations of the Christology of St. Bonaventure see the important studi+s by Zachary~Hayes, O.F.M., "'Revelation in Christ," Proceedin~,s o[ the Seventh Cehtenary Celebration o] the Death o[ St. Bonaventure (The Franciscan Institute: St. Bonaventure, N.Y., 1975), 29-43; "The Meaning of Convenientia in the Meta-physics of St. Bonaventure," Franciscan Studies, vol. 34, Annual XII, 1974, 74-100; "Incarnation and ~.reation in the Theology of St. Bonaventure," Studies Honoring Ignatius Charles Brady. Friar Minor. Ed. R. S. Almagno, O.F.M. and C. L. Harkins, O.F.M. (The Franciscan Institute: St: Bonaventure, N.Y., 1976), 309-329. See also Ignatius Brady, O.F.M., "St. Bonaventure's Theology of the Imitation of Christ," Proceedings of the Seventh Centenary Celebration o[ the Death of St. Bonaventure (The Franciscan Institute: St. Bonaventure, N.Y. 1975), 61-72. '-qSee: B. J. F. Lonergan, S.J., Philosophy o[ God and Theology (The Westminster Press: Philadelphia, 1973). :zSee his five sermons on St. Francis in Opera Omnia IX (Ad Claras Aquas, 1901), 573-597. We are preparing an edition and translation of these sermons. Relqections on the Franciscan Charism / 29 Incarnation is not occasioned by sin, though sin affected its modality. Scotus is not indifferent to evil and sin in the world, nor does he merely juggle with hypotheses. But the destruction of sin and evil is no more than a moment in God's movement out of himself towards the world, to unite all creation in the Love that is forever. The most recent and famous formulation of this doctrine has been made by Teilhard de Chardin in terms of an evolving cosmos. °Speaking of the Scotistic doctrine with Padre Allegra, Teilhard ex-claimed:"' v'o"l~a," la th6ologie c'osmique; voile, la th6ologie de l'avenir"--a cosmic theology, a theology of the future. Because of the unambiguous value it places on creation, one can readily understand why this,, doctrine is so attractive to the French Co.rnmunist philosopher, Roger Garaudy.'-''~ These brief reflections on the development of Christology from St. Fran-cis himself to the School which has from him its name, make it clear that Franciscan Christology is a structural element in the original Franciscan charism. If it is ignored .or neglected, then the charism itself is impaired. Charism and Ongoing Renewal As the order moves on towards the beginning of the third millennium of the Church's history, it will continue to adapt and renew itself accord-ing to the spirit of its original ,charism. In the process of on'going renewal the following aspects of the charism will need to be giveo more serious con-sideration: 1. Public witness--minimum structure." The "monastification" of the order was an undesirable development, not merely because it led to a dull uniformity and reduced individuality to a minimum, but also because it .imposed,a superstructure of organization on the order's life which virtually abolished one of the most characteristic aspects of the Franciscan charism. This is the genius of living a publicreligious life in the Church (St. Francis founded an order) with a minimum amount of structure (St. Francis was conscious of its original newness.). It is among the order's most attractive and, at the same time, most deman.ding characteristics. It is attractive be-cause it manifests the freedom won for us in Christ Jesus; it is for the order a sacrament of freedom from the :burden of the Law. It is demanding because it places firmly on the shoulders of each member of a community full re, sponsibility for every facet of communal life. Community life is an ongoing process, created by the uniqueness and originality of its several members and it issues in a unity which is something more than the mere sum total of the individuals. In such a process no one can shirk responsibility without setting back this process and thus injuring community life. An important area in which this aspect of the charism should exercise maximum influence is formation. The whole process of formation must have 23See Eric Doyle, O.F.M., "John Duns Scotus and the Place of Christ," The Clergy Review, vol. LVII, Sept. 1972, 667-675; Oct. 1972, 774-785; Nov. 1972, 860-868. Review for Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 as its "chief aim the active reception by each friar of total responsibility for 6ur way of life, where the duty of each is to help the others to glow in wis-dom and maturity before~ God and man. The capacity and willingness to ¯ accept this responsibility may be taken as the touchstone of suitability for this way of life. 2. The Rule for Hermitages:'''~ Thomas of Celano in his Second Life tells us that St. Francis "wanted his brothers to live not only in the cities, but also in hermitages." This element of the charism has had effect in some provinces and it is recommended and encouraged in the Renewed Constitu-tions."-'~' It is clear from the short Rule for Hermitages that St. Francis .wished his order to lead not only a "mixed" life'--that is, one devoted to prayer and the apostolate---but to hold within itself at one and. the same time the two distinct expressions., of the.religious life: the active and the contempla-tive: The contemplative life he intended as a permanent feature of the order's existence in the world. It is interesting to recall in this context that both the Rule of the Friars Minor (for itinerant apostles) and the Rule of St. Clare (for enclosed contemplatives) are identified with life according to the Holy Gospel. In our opinion the notion of a "hermitage" should not be confused with a. "house of prayer." Houses of prayer, to which friars may resort for shorter or longer periods of recollection, do not fulfill adequately what St. Francis appears to have intended. It seems that he wanted the contemplative life to be a permanent feature of the life of the First Order. If our view here is correct, then there should be a place in the order for the exclusively contemplative life. On this understanding a "hermitage" and a "house of prayer" are quite distinct notions. The former should be employed uniquely to describe a community of friars dedicated exclusively to the contemplative life. The feature's that would distinguish a Franciscan contemplative community from the older monastic forms of the contemplative life would be precisely the minimum structure and the far smaller number in the community.-Whether the number would have to be restricted to three or four, as is mentioned in the Rule [or Hermitages, is a matter that calls for further discussion. It may not be possible for every province of the order to have'a hermi-tage (or hermitages) as a permanent feature of its life. Perhaps, therefore, hermitages could be instituted at the inter-provincial level and be made open tO international membership. Such contemplative communities in the order would give fine expression to this. element of the Franciscan charism. The reference made above to the Rule of the Poor Clares recalls what St. Francis wrote down in the Form of Life for St. CIare: ~'I desire and promise you personally and in the name,~of my friars that I will always have the same loving care and solicitude for you as for them." Their way of life "-4English Omnibus Edition of the Sources, 72-73. '-'SThe Plan ]or Franciscan Living, Articles 28-31. Reflections on the,~Franciscan Charism / 31 was very dear to St. Francis both because he loved St. Clare and because he himself was strongly attracted to the contemplative life. The First Order today should show the same loving care for the Poor Clares and there ought to be more frequent and closer contact between the first and second branches of the order. By so doing we would be more faithful to St. Francis and we would be helped considerably to.discern our own charism more clearly. 3. The Rule of 1221.""-~ Although the Rule of 1223, which gave the FrancisCan Order its legal" basis, and the Rule of 1221, which never re-ceived papal approval, both contain the spirit of St; Franci.s, it could be argued that the latter is a finer expression of that spirit than the former. This is not to deny that the Rule of 1223 is more a spiritual document than legal code. Nevertheless, it is just that one step removed from the earliest expression of the form of life and, therefore, just that little further from the original charism. .,, In terms of continuing renewal, the directives of the seventh chapter of the Rule of 1221 raise important questions for ,the future development of the order. The chapter is titled: "Work and the Service of Others." It con-cerns the friars who are engaged in the service of lay people and those who already have a trade when they join the order. The chapter lays down: "Everyone should remain at the trade and in the position in which he was called." This one sentence alone gives rise to a serious question about what attitude the order ought to adopt to a person seeking admission to it who is already qualified in a trade or profession. It is not a question about whether the order .should,allow a plumber or a doctor to continue as a plumber or ¯ doctor after an initial period of formation; it is rather a question of Whether or not the order is obliged to allow a plumber or a doctor to return at least for a certain time, to his previous work, after the period of formation. Priests who have joined the order in the past have continued to exercise their priestly ministry to a.limited extent during the period of formation and it has always been assumed that. they will go back to its full exercise after formation. There are many, many more professions ands:trades which are as equally compatible with the vocation of being a Franciscan friar,as is the ministerial priesthood. Before the oral approval of the Rule in 1209, St. Francis had already assured the Bishop of Assisi that he and his companionS would earn their living and have recourse to begging only when it was absolutely necessary. Some of them worked as laborers in monasteries and private houses; others took care of lepers in the lazar houses; others helped farmers in the fields. In the early years after the,approval of the Rule the friars were given to preaching, praying and manual work. The statement made at the Madrid Chapter in 1973 concerning the vocation of the order today, gave definite approval to this aspect of the "-'~English Omnibus o] the Sources, 31-53. 32 / Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 original charism as contained in the Rule of 1221. The statement empha-sizes: For recent times, our participation in the general evolution of religious life and the influence of certain other communities,have led us to the rediscovery of an aspect of work as it was understood by ~Francis. New forms of work and a variety of occupations are now being undertaken by our friars. Min-istry, our own works, and domestic tasks within our friaries legitimately oc-cupy the majority of our friars, but it is becoming more frequent to find friars engaged in salaried trades and professions within enterprises and institutions which belong neither to the order nor to the Church. An orientation of this kind appears to us to be in line with our vocation; by it we are a part of society in a special way, working for its upbuilding and we are brought closer to those who live. by their work. While placing us squarely on the road to the future it brings us back to one of the institutions of our origins.zr This new type of work is itself the apostolate: the apostolate of presence by silent witness. We must not forget, however, that this form of the apostolate is not easy. It demands that a friar put into practice the unsystematic though profound theology of work scattered throughout the writings of St. Francis. Thus: pay is not to be the motive of work, nor should the friars become the slaves of work or of gain. Work is to be undertaken as a contribution to the final form of creati6n, carried out under the supreme lordship of God; it is to be sanctified by being brought back to its right relationship with God. It is not, nor can it be, for the friar an end in itself; it is a means of exercising the apostolate of peace and reconciliation in the midst of the world. It requires above all of those who engage in it, that they be contem-platives. Before actio.n there has to be what St. Bonaventure calls sursumac-rio-- that uplifting activity which is contemplative prayer. Further developments of this kind of work may well bring about a de-crease in the number of priests in the order. At the same time it must not be ignored that those engaged in the apostolate who are not~priests (for ex-ample, nuns°and brothers) often find that there are circumstances where it would be a definite advantage to be a priest. In fact, experiences of this kind have often led~non-ordained apostles to seek ordination to the priest-hood. 4. St. Francis the Deacon:'-'~ St. Francis never became a priest. One often hears that the reason for this was his deep humility; he felt himself unworthy of so sublime a dignity. This explanation, however, is not to be found in the sources; in fact there appears to be no mention of the matter at all. In any case our concern here is not with the reason why he did not become a priest, but with the [a.ct that he was a deacon. "-':General Chapter Documents, Madrid 1973 (The English-Speaking Conference of the Order of Friars Minor; 1974), 68. '-'sSee I, Col. 86 in English Omnibus Edition o[ the Sources, 301: "The saint of God was clothed with the vestments of the deacon, for he was a deacon, and he sang the holy Gospel in a sonorous voice." Re[tections on the Franciscan Charism / 33 The re-institution of the order of permanent diaconate is one of the most encouraging results of Church renewal. The diaconate in the Church is directly derived from, and immediately related to, the episcopal office. It concerns the Church's mission to the world in.the very concrete form of the corporal and sp)ritual works of mercy and of work for reconciliation, justice and peace. These works pertain to the essence of the apostolic office. It is, therefore, theologically incorrect and quite unsound to understand the diaconate merely in terms of assistance to the priestly ministry; nor is the diaconate adequately presented exclusively in terms of liturgical functions. In practice at the moment, however, the actual form of ministry exercised by permanent deacons is, in the vast majority of cases, only a lesser form of the priestly ministry. This is true throughout the Western Church. On the missions it has been ~made a substitute for the priesthood, and the permanent deacon is in fact a "mini-priest?' With the exception of saying Mass and ad: ministering absolution, he does everything that the priest does. The diaconate has become also a substitute for a married priesthood. In ,many of our city and towm parishes in the Western world, the ministry of the permanent deacon is in fact no more than that of assistant to the local priests. In all these cas~s, therefore, 'the priesthood is the determining factor in the per-formance of the office of deacon. It would be a pity if this were to become the exclusive form of the diaconal ministry. The permanent diaconate in the Church proclaims that the corporal and spiritual works of mercy and work for reconciliation, justice and peace are not merely the special concern of individuals who may feel called to per-form them. They belong to the episcopal office, because the bishops must have anxious care not only for all' the churches but also for the whole world. Ordinatioh to :the .permanent diaconate graces the man called to this work with the authority and power of the apostolic mission to the world, In virtue of this sacrament the deacon is sent by the bishop publicly in the name of Christ to work; for example, in the field 0f communications, as a counselor, a welfare officer, a doctor or a nurse. The. Franciscan Order is committed by its very existence to work for reconciliation,., justice and peace. It would be most fitting for the order to incorporate the permanent diaconate, as here understood, into its life and mission and to offer this as an option to those wishing to join the order. It would manifest that work other than priestly'ministry is not merely the hobby or pa~rticular preference of an individual, but a part of the Churcl~'s ¯ mission to the world. It would contribute also towards restoring the diaconate to its fuller ministry. 5. Christology of the Franciscan School: Every friar should receive a thorough grounding in the doctrine of the Franciscan School. Christology is at the heart of that doctrine from which has developed a distinctive anthro-pology, .!he values of which center on freedom, the primacy of the will and charity, and the dignity of the individual person. In order that this rich 34 / Review Jot Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 heritage be not lost; it is of paramount importance that studies be encouraged ever more keenly in the order. One acknowledges with gratitude .the re-newed interest in Franciscan studies brought about by,~the establishment of the Franciscan Institute at St. Bonaventure University, New York. More friars should .be encouraged to devote their lives to the production of good texts and critical editions of the authors of the Franciscan School. It must be impressed on them that this is not a waste of time nor merely the pri-vate interest of the scholarly "types" which the order can tolerate, but a splendid contribution to the understanding of a tradition which belongs, to the Church and mankind at large;. ~ The~Future of the Order and Its Vocation The future will see a more balanced proportion between, the number of priests and non-priests in the Franciscan Order. The indications are that throughout the world the order as a whole will continue to decrease in numbers. There will be many more small communities. In fidelity to its many-faceted charism the order will have to learn to hold within itself a great pluriformity of~ life-styles and, work. The former will have to contain the widest variety from the contemplative to the actix;e' life.~ The latter will have to.embrace every, form from strictly priestly.work to the apostolate of presence and silent witness in salaried trades, and pro-fessions. Every friar on the apostolate will have to be prepared to preach, teach or' share with others, in whatever ways are opened up, the riches of the order's Christological tradition, particularly the teaching on the centrality of the Word and the absolute 'primacy of Christ: By so doing, the order will contribute to the fruitfulness oLthe encounter and dialogue between East and West, from which will result a spirituality for the post-modern world. The East has developed towards an extreme spiritualistic interpretation of man and the world; the West towards an extreme materialistic interpretation of man and the world. There are~ however, strands in the tradition of both East and West, which point the way to a real unity and balance between these extremes. It is not too much to suggest~that the theology of the:Fran-ciscan School and the spirituality of St. Francis belong to these strands in the West. This theology and spirituality lead one to a material spiritualism or spiritual materialism, to a holy worldliness or worldly holiness. It is along these lines that spirituality in the future will develop. In conclusion we wish to make a brief comment about a very important matter. It concerns a fair number of those friars who have left the order and have taken up other walks of life. In traveling around one frequently comes across ex-friars who long to share again the spirituality and atmosphere which formed them and left a deep impression on their minds and hearts, and who desire to participate once more in some way directly in the order's mission to the world. It is not that they are unhappy in their new. way of life or regret having married~ These longings and desires are th~ outcome of a~ Reflections on the, Franciscan Charism / 35~ renewed and deeper appreciation of Franciscan values which their new life has brought home. to them. Specifically, 'it is married rife which is most fre-quently mentioned as the cause of this. There is a very positive impulse behind these desires which one discerns as the Ho!y Spirit of God. Serious thought and prayer must be given to working out how these desires might be fulfilled, It must not be presumed a priori that we can do nothing for them. One suggestion would be the institution of a new [ormof the Third Order which could be so established as to meet both desires mentioned. It could exist in very close liaison and cooperation with the work of the First Order, for this latter is mature enough to embrace an added element in its. pluri- ¯ formity. In this way the order would be helping to prepare for the eventual re-deployment of so much energy, goodwill and holiness in the apostolic mission of the Church. Now Available As A Reprint Centeri. g Prayer-Prayer of Quiet by~ M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S~.O. Address: ¯ Price: $.50 pier copy, plus postage. Review for Religious 612 Humboldt Building 539 North Grand St. Louis,, Missouri 63103 To God Via Per Patricia Lowery, M.M. Sister Lowery's article, "The Suffering Servant and the Wounded Healer" (May, 1976) was well-received by our readership. She continues to reside at: Madres de Maryknoll; Casilla 491; Arequipa, Pert]. Editor's Note: I asked Sister Patricia to write an article on her reason for remaining in Pert] even as a suffering servant. In response to read.er-reaction, she had earlier written an article with fuller information about "The Fraternity of the Sick," but I judged the present article to be of haore immediate im-portance. The other article will be published later. The following passages from her covering letter will "flesh out" the article which follows. She writes: "I guess it is not such a great thing that I stay in Pert], but some people without a missionary vocation might think it is. 1 am not exactly 'all crippled up,' but Rheumatoid Arthritis affects all the joints, and, whatever the degree of deformity, there°is always pain . Some people, I think, Would be taking it easy in my condition, but because my spirit is always 100 miles ahead of my body, I need to romp around. I do it in Pert] because the pace is slower, I have the freedom to invent' my own aids to independence, and most of all because it is 'home' for me .I hope what I have written will serve as an inspiration to someone else." When I left New York harbor destined for Pert] on the f~ast of St. Rose of Lima, I instinctively felt that I was making.a journey that would shape my life. Twenty-five years later, as I reflect on the events of those years, I know it to be true. As I stood at the rail, face to face with the ocean, the fact that I was going to a strange country, to a-mission that was as yet an empty lot, to work with people I did not know and whose language I could not speak, seemed not to frighten me. I was too caught up with the journey itself. With Sister Madaleva's "Travel Song" in my heart, I was blinded by' enthusiasm! 36 To God Via Per~ / 37 "Know you the journey that I take Know you the voyage that I make The joy of it one's heart would break. No jot of time have l to spare Nor will to loiter anywhere SO edger am I to be there. What thatothe way is hard and long What that gray fears upon it throng I set my journey to a song. And it grows happy, wondrous so Singing I hurry on, for Oh! It is to God, to God I go. I am still singing that song, for my journey has taken me steadily toward God, accompanied now by many frierids and the voice of ,the quena (Indian flute), whose music calls to mind all that I have liv.ed, loved and learned in Peril. A Life of Fulfillment Recently, a visiting sister from the United States asked me what satis-factions I had after working twenty-five years in Perti. I could not answer that question directly because .I had not thought of my years in Perti in terms of "satisfactions," but. rather, more comprehensively, as a lifetime of fulfillment. I feel that I came to Peril almost as a child, unsure of many things, and here I grew up, formed 'in the school of joy; struggle, suffering, achievement and love. My teachers'were often uneducated people whose only book was the testimony of their lives. I knew, sowehow, that in such a book were contained the lessons I wanted desperately to learn. There was conflict, though, because I was supposed to be the teacher, prepared as I was for that profession. Later in novitiate work, I assumed the role of spiritual guide only to find that the insights of the Peruvian girls with whom I lived were much more "real" than my own. In pastoral work, too, I had to learn to accelSt people as they are, in the context of their cul-ture and reality, and to set aside my well-prepared o~ganizational plan. It was only when I found myself on a level with so many others (brought together through that universal mystery of suffering) that I began my real ministry~ This shared experience taught me to be present to others as a friend, learn from them, be at their side rather than "ahead" of them, to understand and appreciate them--and m~self as well. I sincerely feel that over the years the gift of happiness and fulfillment has been given to me by people who are themselves still oppressed by in- . justices and hunger for bread and who carry man-made burdens. In humble gratitude to them, I take my stand with all those who fight for liberation, human dignity and the precious gift of personal fulfillment. A Vocation to Stay As a Maryknoll Missioner, my heritage includes devotion to the Church, Review ]or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 love for people of all cultures, simplicity, loyalty, generosity, adaptability, joy in hardships and faith in God. My earliest years at Maryknoll were filled with hearing about, and meeting, great men and women who, sustained by those virtues, ventured to "fields afar" even before I was born. Their unassuming lives spoke to me of humifity, courage a,ad joy, virtues that stood by them. as they fought the good fight, faced imPrisonment and even death for the people to Whom they were g(nt. All this was part of their missionary vocation. ~ Therefore, it seems strange to me that anyone would ask why I, who am only semi-incapacitated by a physical'iliness, would remain on a mission where few resources are availi~ble. Actually, it never occurred to me to do otherwise. Having received very good medical attention and knowing how to take care of myself, there seems little else to do but wait until science discovers a'cure. B~t one can waist anywhere. Bishop James E. Walsh, M.M., whose story is well known in the United States, made a statement in 1951 regarding his decision to remain in China in the face of imprisonment (which he actually suffered for twelve years). From among his valuable insights, ! will quote a few which I can apply to myself: Vocation: Our vocation is not simply our occupational work. The teaching, preaching, village visiting we usually do, it is something much deeper, per-mahent, indelible. It does not change if our work is imped(d, if we are in. prison, or for any other reason. One of the necessary conditions to carry it out properly, I think, is to accept in advance every trouble and contingency in connection with it that Divine Providence puts in our way. If we start to pick and choose for ourselves; it is very hard to tell if we are carrying out our vocation or running away from it . The only safe rule for a man with a mission vocation, .I think, is to adhere to the clear indication of God's will (his appointed place where he finds himself) and to make no changes of his own volition. .4ch°vity: Enforced inactivity is a term that needs some distinguishingl Activ-ity does not depend on the place; it depends on the man. Suffering patiently bourne is activity, so is prayer, so is any kind of mental work--things that can be done, one WOUld think, in prison as well as anywhere. What is really meant is a change of activity. This is something of a hardship to many men, I confess it---especially to those who are lacking in the. faculty of imagination. However, we can all learn something new, or at least wecan try tO do so. If an examp!e of prison life will help the Church in China, as. I. believe any suffering undergone for Qod will do, then we are just being given another sort of activity for a time. There is no question of ~complete inactivity, I believe."r Encouraged, therefore, by the tradition of my elders as well as by the example of many valiant companions of today, I choose to stay in Pert~ because: 1Zeal For Your House by James E. Walsh, M.M., Our Sunday Visitor, Inc. (Hunt= ington, IN; 1976), pp. 140-141. To God Via Per~ / 39 --it is my vocation; ---I believe in Christian witness (no matter what else I may or may not be able to do) ; --although it is the nature of the missionary vocation to move on when when the. local Church has come of age, I feel that Peril is still in the growing process and needs to feel solidarity with the universal Church; --it builds morale both for the people and the missioners; (to celebrate a "staying-here" rather than a "going-away" makes everybody happy); --God has directed my life in such surprisingly beautiful wa3;s that I fear if I "pick and choose for myself," I may miss out on something he has in store for me; --finally, I would feel reluctant to break the bonds of friendship built up over the years. Yahweh's feeling toward his people has rubbed off on me: How could I give you up, O Ephraim? How could I part with you, O Israel? (Ho 11:8) While my sentiment for Peril runs deep, I k~aow that missioners are sent to people rather than to count.ries. In the case that ,I were to find my-self in another situation, my ministry to people need not change: Pockets of Hope In my small circle of the poor and the sick, I se.e signs .of Christi.an witness which prove that what we have been able to build in the hearts of people has already outlasted our institutions and monumental structures. Christian values like kindness, service, patience, humility, thoughtfulness and friendliness mark people as being followers of Christ. In my own ex-perience, especially since I have been sick, I have been deeply moved by the unexpected and touching concern shown for me.by those who carry heavy burdens and, apparently, have nothing to give. It prompts me to look into my life, and give of its essence as well as its superfluity. Because of my involvement with the "Fraternity of the Sick," I have come to realize the truth, that through baptism (be it of water or in the fire of suffering), the humblest among the people of. God are called to be ministers. In the past, because of concentrating only on our own call to ministry, we religious have tended to over-look the vocation to service being lived out all around us. Only with our encouragement can these ministers come to take their place as true servants of the Church. We have nothing to lose and everything to gain if only we can set aside our fears and believe that: As one lamp lights another, nor grows less So nobleness enkindles nobleness. (Lowell) Founding "Founderology": Charism and Hermeneutics Francis E. George, O,M.I. Father George is Vicar General of the Oblates of Mary Immaculate. This article is based on a conference given in Rome at the beginning of a three-week congress, April 25-May 15, on the charism of their founder, Eugene De Mazenod, ,He resides at the Curia Generalitia O.M.I.; Via Aurelia, 290; 00165 Roma, Italy. The renewal of religious, institutes means getting in touch with several "charisms." We can distinguish the charism of the religious life as such, individual charisms and the cha.rism of a founder and of his institute. Religious life as such is a gift of the Holy Spirit, a" grace given to the entire Church, enabling it to follow Christ ever more closely (Lumen Gentium,~ 44). There is also.the "charism" or individual grace of each member of a religious institute. The Spirit calls each of us by name, and this individual vocation is a source of the richness that religious institutes have recently begun to acknowledge more openly and appreciate more warmly. But the Fathers of the Second Vatican Council spoke of the "original inspiration behind a given community" as one of the principles of ongoing renewal of religious institutes (Perlectae Caritatis, 2), and the "spirit" of a founder has' its source in a grace (charis) given to him. Like all.grace, it is a personal gift; but by reason of his founding a public institute in the Church, this grace has far-reaching public consequences. Those who are his followers adopt a stance, a viewpoint, in some way derived from or inspired by his thought, his work, his graced life. It becomes possible there-fore to speak of a "collectNe charism," a view proper to a group. The charism of a religious institute, as such has been defined as "a grace given Founding ~'Founderology'" / 41 by the Holy Spirit to a religious institute to help it to carry out its proper mission.''~ Each religious foundation began with a group who shared a common spirit. This spirit, rooted in grace, enabled them to lead a common life and attempt a common task: How can a religious institute today know if it still has this original spirit? Is there a method which can help a religious community get in touch with the founder's spirit and live it authentically? Historical Approach to Charism There are two methodological approaches to charism (the spirit of the founder and his followers) which, taken singly, . might ,lead to an impasse. The first approach is historical. Starting with the historical reality of a founder, his life and work, we can try to see him as a kind of model, some-what separate from us in time, but still providing us with a clear and even a detailed picture of the life we should lead today. "Fidelity to the founder's spirit" then means handing on this model, essentially unchanged, to future generations of religious. They, in tur6, will interiorize it and make it vital thr~ough their lives and works. The difficulty with this ap~proach is that it "often assumes a "funda-mentalism" based on texts or on events, accepting as normative many models which are irrelevant to contemporary life. While seeming to empha-size the historical reality of the founder, this approach, taken by itself, is really a means of escaping from history. It makes the founder's ideas become ah ideology, protecting a community's present institution,'ilizati6n but divorced from the contemporary responses to problems the founder him-self was concerned about? On the practical level, "copying" the founder cannot serve as a guide for present decision making. Few people, and certainly not most religious founders, are so .self-consistent in act that it is not possible to find his-torical precedent in their lives for al}nost any a~tion. Almost any par-ticular decision can thereby be justified by saying we are "imitating the founder." The ideological nature of this approach, used alone, becomes clear. Experiential Approach to Charism The second approach "begins with contemporary experience. Looking at an institute's life and ministry today, the members discern what are the values and the motivation inspiring them. A synthesis of this group "spirit" is articulated and accepted as normative. Certain similarities with the XTeresa Led6chowska, O.S.U., A la'r~cherche du charism de I'institut (Rome, 1976), p. 14. "Ideology, as used here, means ideas which serve as weapons or cloaks for special interests. This usage is common., in .the sociology o~ knowledge and derives from Karl Marx via Karl Mannheim. 42 / ,Review ]or Religious, VOlume 36, 1977/1 spirit of the founder are either° found or are-read back into his life, but the important thing is to avoid withdrawing into the cocoon of the ~insti-tute and away from contemporary events and problems. If historical similarity.to the founder is lacking, this must be accepted" as a part'of his-torical development itself, the price ,paid for being truly in and of our own time. ~ The difficulty with this approach, considered in itself, lies in its easy acceptance of the zeitgeist as almost uniquely normative. The founder himself tends to become instr~umentalized, brought'in .whenever he can be used to justify current thinking and activity; and conveniently forgotten at other moments. Eventually, it would be hard to find any specific content at all to the so-ca.lled charism of the institute. If the first approach merely "copies" the founder~ the second tends to replace him. Hermeneutic Approach to Charism Is ~here a third approach,~incorporating the best Of the two sketched above? Perhaps a iook at hermeneuticg ~igl!t help to put'together a meth-odology which neither copies a founder nor replaces him but rather inter-prets him for Our time and for generations of religious yet to come. Hermeneutics Heymeneutic~, the science of interpretation, has its theolggic)d roots in the discussion of the historical Jesus and his relation to the Christ of faith? ]~he~gradual dissociation of religious, beliefs from historical'dvents had its beginnings in the late"l 8th century work of Lessing and has its best known twentieth century explication in the work of Rudolf Bulimafin. Hermeneutics as such, h~owever, is .a" theologically neutral ente'rRr~ise, concerned with the understanding of expressions of life as fixed in writing2 As a method, hermeneutics demands first of all exegesis, the careful establishment Of what the author ~f a text consciously meant to say in his writing. Next, h~rmeneutics tries intelligibly to span the historical distance between the text and our present reading of it by studying the author's con-text of understanding, including both his presuppositions (what he took for granted) and his horizon (what he was up to and how he did it). Finally, a third area of understanding must be made explicit. If the text is to be adequately interpreted, there is needed also a critique of the reader's context, the presuppositions .he brings to his reading, what is mean- .~See P. Grech's rrsum6 o[ the question in, "Jesus Christ in History and Kerygma," A New Catholic Commentar.v on Holy Scripture, Reginald G. Fuller, General Editor (London: Thomas Nelson & Sons, 1969), pp. 822-837. 4See Berriard Lonergan, Method in Theology (N.Y.: Herder & Herder, 1972), pp. 59-64 and 153-173. Founding "Founderology" / 43 ingful in his understanding and life~ The interpreter's own subiectivity is utilized as a principle of interpretation. The challenge of hermeneutics lies at least partially in finding a context of understanding which incorporates both the explicit intentions of the author of the text and his cont6xt of understanding, along with the context of the reader or interpreter. ~ ,, Charism Interpretation In charism interpretation, the object of interpretation is not directly a single text or group of te£ts but rather a group-spirit which has its. origin in a particular historical person. Nevertheless, three areas of understanding, anaiogou~ to those necessary for textual interpretation, can be seen to be necessary: for an appreciation of a founder's spirit. First, we must understand what he personally intended and chose. A study,~ of his own writings and the decisions of his life is therefore necessary. Secondly, we must understand the founder's historical context, his horizon .of meaning and ,action .as a~man of his age. Accepting a spurious. contemporaneity, overlooking, for example, authoritatian presuppositions ~which.~.are now unattractive, would only falsify our interpretation. Thirdly, we must understand our own presuppositions and 'our own historical context. The general horizon of modern consciousness accepts unquestioningly that finitude is the vantage point of all, thinking and that ,,there are no privileged viewpoints. Nobody today, for example, believes he can know the mind of God or his will in the same rather absolute way peo-ple thought it possible to know them before the mediating structures :broke down. This contempor.ary tentativeness :can readily degenerate into a super-cilious attitude, debunking, every human thought "and value; at its best, however, it reminds us that we, too, are not necessarily smarter than peo-ple were in the founder's time. We just have a different pbint of view; and we must therefore work all the harder to understand the founder's context of meaning and action. Interpretation as. a. Communitarian. Activity But these three areas of understanding do not of themselves give us an interpretation of a founder's spirit. They prepare the task of' interpretation, but the actual interpretation must be~done in community~ Interpretation takes place in community nc;t only because community is a constitutive part of the life of most religioias institutes, but also because :interpretation is, of its very nature; a communitarian activity. ~ Community of Interpretation Interpersonal" Structure Interpretation is a communita~-ian activity because it is a joining, a communion, of three poles: the interpreter, the sign or object interpreted, 44 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 and the person(s) for whom the interpretation is intended, or the inter-pretee( s)? By way of example, one can imagine an international conference during which speeches are translated simultaneously. The speaker's words are the sign or object interpreted, the translator is the interpreter, and those who do not understand the speaker's language are the interpretees. Together they form a community of interpretation, Without one of the three, but espe-cially without the interpreter, no community exists and the conference be-comes impossible. To push the example a bit further, one can imagine a particularly abstruse speech which makes little sense even to those who understand the language in which it is given. Then another sort of inter-preter is called for, perhaps a teacher or clarifier, who creates community between speaker and those spoken to. What might happen Should even the speaker not understand his speech? Then probably the situation calls for that sort of interpreter called a psychiatrist,'who can explain the speaker to himself. In any circumstance, the act of interpretation means that someone interprets something to and for another. The "other'-' might be the inter-preter himself at a different time. Everyone has had the experience of puz-zling through a conundrum and finally "interpreting" it to himself --- but even in this case there are three logically distinct subjects of the relationship: interpreter, interpreted and interpretee. Interpretation, then, is always a communitarian activity. Temporal Structure Chronologically, the interpreter can be placed in the present, the' inter-preted in the past and the interpretee in the future. The community of in-terpretation is a temporal community, in the sense that something in the past is interpreted by someone now for someone else in the future. The ac-tivity of interpreting, then, creates a community of memory and of hope. It brings together, in the present, both the past and the future. Again, an example might help. It is fashionable today to speak of "owning" one's own behavioi'. A person self-consciously appropriates in the present some act of his past so that it fits into his future. A self-image is an interpretation. When others share the individual's self-interpretation, community with them is possible. When all place the same interpretation on a past event and look forward to a common future, a larger community is possible, There is a Christian community, to use another example, because in the present we all interpret the past Christ-event in such a way that we look forward to his future coming in glory. Those who do not look back to Jesus '~This analysis of interpretation depends upon the work of tl~e American philosopher Josiah Royce, The Problem o] Christianity (N.Y.: Mac"millan, 1913), vol. ii, Lectures ix through xiv. ~ Founding "Founderology'" / 45 of Nazareth as Lord and Savior or do not look forward to the Parousia are not members of the Christian community, There is no common interpre-tation. Every community is a gathering of many separate persons into a commonly held memory and a commonly shared hope. In this sense, every community is a community of interpretation. In the community of interpretation which is a particular religious insti-tute, the members interpret in their time the.spirit and acts of their founder, a person now dead, to their future selves and to future generations of re-ligious, They say what they understand the founder to be, thereby establish-ing their community with him and enabling him--and them--to join those who will consider their interpretation in the future. This future considera-tion, of course, will be another interpretation in another present for another future in which they are past. Religious Community of Interpretation The Founder:s Concerns The relation of interpretation has a triadic personal structure (interpre-ter, interpreted and interpretee) and a triadic temporal structure (present, past and future). But the abstract framework explored so far is true of every act of interpretation and of every community of interpretation. Is there a specific 'contribution a founder makes to the community of interpretation which is his religious, institute? Obviously; if we are able to speak of a charism proper to an institute, then the object interpreted, the signs of God's grace which are the founder's words and acts, must provide the content which his followers interpret in the present. The founder raises concerns in the hearts and minds of his followers and these concerns specify religious com-munities .of interpretation., so that followers of Francis of Assisi are different from followers of Francis de Sales, Each religious, each community, each institute can produce a list of those concerns which were closest to its founder's heart. The founder I know best, Eugene De Mazenod,* was a diocesan priest who brought together a small mission, band to help re-evangelize southern France after the destruc-tion of parochial life in the French Revolution, Heavily influenced by the writings of St. Alphonsus Ligouri and by the example of St. Vincent de Paul, De Mazenod chose as a motto for.his missionaries the words of Isaiah echoed in Luke's Gospel: "He has sent me to preach the .Gospel to the poor; the poor have the Gospel preached to them." A practical leader rather than a speculative theorist, he saw his group develop slowly in response to many different needs in many different situa-tions. In some respects he seems to be a not very original man, yet certain *Eugene De Mazenod (1782-1861), ~ounder ~f the Missionary Oblates of Mary Immaculate and Bishop of Marseilles. ' He was beatified on Mission Sunday, October 19, 1975. 46 / Review [or Religious, Volume 36, 1977/1 personal concerns return constantly in his letters and his.life, An authentic Mazenodian community of interpretation, therefore,, would have to harbor at least the following four concerns:, 1 ) ~a concern ]or the poor: who are they; what language do they speak; what are their needs and their ways of understanding themselves? This was a constant ,concern of ,De Mazenod from the days of his first preaching in" the Provenqal dialect to his final instructions to his missionaries in Africa, Asia and North America ~ 2,) a co'ncern ]or the Church as universal: De Mazenod's own conver-sion to Christ crucified and his .love ~of Christ as universal Savior prompted both, his missionary zeal and his love of the pope as universal pastor; a vision of Christ's universal salvific action as sacramentalized in the Church must be somehow present to De Mazenod's interpreters. 3) a concern ]or ministry, and specifically for preaching Christ 'cruci-fied, in local circumstances: religious foundations were frequent in nine-teenth century France, but when another founder spoke~t6.De Mazenod of the need to go to all of France, De Mazenod insisted'on,first making Christ present in Provence, in the circtimstances he knew best. ,.A universal. Vision was coupled with a concern for local effectiveness, even as.the congregation itself became global. 4) a. concern ]or the quality of copnmitment bf the community itself: De Mazenod called his followers not to,share his opinions nor even only to share his work but to share his commitment, a commitment finally expressed in religious vows. Other areas of concern could certainly be raised. Concern for the way in which Mary is part of the Oblate spirit as exemplar:and guide is forced on De: Mazenod's institute by its very title. Concern for the proper under-standing of mission or of evangelization is also important~ But De Mazenod in pr~actice preached to and served and lived with certain grotips of people. Without living contact with analogous groups today, his spirit will escape his followers. ~ For the purpose of this paper, De Mazenod is only an exam

Issue 26.4 of the Review for Religious, 1967. ; Confessions of Religious Women by J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R., and Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. 581 Chastity in Relig.i.ous Life by Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J. 604 Penance :~ Sacrament of Poverty by George B. Nintemann, O.P. 625 Poverty Today by Joseph J. Sikora, S.J. 638 ~ ReligiOus and the World by Bernard J. Kelly, C.S.Sp. 662 The Retreat Director by Paul J. Bernadicou, S.J. 672 Indwelling Dynamism by Thomas Dubay, S.M. 685 High School Retreats by Paul Pilgrara, S.J., and Carl Starkloff, S.J. 703 Liturgy as Symbol by Andrew Weigert 708 Missionary Formation by Sister Barbara Ann, S.N.D. 714' Confession and Growth by Robert L Faricy, S.J. 720 Survey of Roman Documents 725 Views, News, Previews 739 Questions and Answers 749 Book Reviews 758 VOLUM~ 26 NUMBER 4 July 1967 NOTICE TO SUBSCRIBERS During the first part of September, 1967, the editorial office of REviEw' ~'oR RELIGtOUS will be moved from St. Marys, Kansas, to St. Louis, Missouri. Consequently, the editorial office of the REwEw will be closed from Septem-ber 1, 1967, to September 15, 1967. The St. Louis address of the editorial office of the R~wEw will be announced in the September, 1967, issue of the R~vi~w. This change will not affect the address of the business office of the R~.vl~w in Baltimore, nor will the business office there be closed during the time the editorial office is closed. j. A. CLARMONT, C.Ss.R. SISTER M. DENIS, S.O.S. Confessions of Women Religious INTRODUCTION* The purpose of the sacraments is to sanctify men, to build up the body of Christ, and finally to give worship to God. Because they are signs they also instruct. They not only pre-suppose faith, but by words and objects they also nourish, strengthen and express it; that is why they are called "sacra-ments of faith." They do indeed impart grace, but, in addition, the very act of celebrating them disposes the faithful most effectively to receive this grace in a fruitful manner, to wor-ship God duly, and to practice charity (Constitution on the Liturgy, n.59). In this age of Christian renewal, it is important indeed that the liturgy of the sacraments manifest in sign and significance their primary purpose. As Christians we must be sanctified; we must build up the Body of Christ; and we must worship God. All these functions should be as meaningful as possible. They should be made as personal as possible. When we think of the sacraments as en-counters with Christ, we are speaking of personal re-lationships. The sacraments in themselves, because they are actions of Christ, are effective signs of sanctification. However, the recipients and the ministers of the sacra-ments have definite personalistic approaches in the sacramental liturgy if the greatest fruit is to be obtained and growth in holiness be effective. More especially is exterior and interior renewal neces-sary in the sacrament of penance. Here the encounter of the prodigal son with the waiting and forgiving Father is reenacted in the Christian's life. Is not this sacrament one of the most vital and important for the pilgrim Christian * The research fo~ this paper was done as part of the pastoral theology program at the Divine Word International Centre of Reli-gious Education; 260 Colborne Street; London, Ontario; Canada. Since the writing of this paper, Father Clarmont has died--may he rest in peace. Rev. J. A. Clar-mont, C.Ss.R., and Sister M. Denis, S.O.S., are students in pastoral theolog~ at the Divine Word Centre of Religious Education; 960 Col-borne Street; Lon-don, Ontario; Can-ada. VOLUME 26, 1967 + 4. 4. ]. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, $.0;$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS on his way to the God of all love and of all purity? Who has not stumbled on this journey to the fullness of eternal life? Who has not felt his daily faults as impeding growth in the Christ-life? Who has not felt the desire for the merciful Christ to touch and to make clean, to hear the consoling words: "Thy sins are forgiven." Am?rig the people of God who realize the importance of this sacrament are those women dedicated to God by the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience. Because of their calling to be a sign of the fullness of the Christian vocation, these generous women seek a profound union with God through Christ in the Spirit. B~y laboring to build up the Body of Christ, they attempt to make of their lives a continu6us act of worship to the triune God. They, perhaps more than others, are conscious of their human failings, are desirous of offering a pure holocaust to God, are anxious to receive the sacrament of God's merciful pardon and~ encouraging aid with all possible meaning. They do wish to make the reception of the sacrament of penance a truly personal encounter with the glorified Christ in His saving acts. These convictions, coupled with sincere and frank self-criticism by many priest-confessors and sister-penitents, were the inspiration of this study on the confessions of women religious. Our purpose is not academic, but practi-cal. It is hoped that the present study will enable both the confessor and the sister to avoid stifling routine and to rediscover the unfathomable riches of this sacrament. In order to view the present situation on a factual basis a questionnaire (See Appendix A) was sent to a random sampling of priest-confessors and sister-penitents. No at-tempt was made to include both the confessor and the sisters of a given convent. The-returned questionnaires from sixty-s.ix p.riests and one hundred and thirty-three sisters inclu~ded a widely varied group as regards age, occupation,, and location. Many dioceses of Canada and the United States were represented. Detailed statistics will be found in Appendix B. The principal items on the questionnaire centered around the~ physical environment of the confessional; the number of sisters who would be going to confession at the same time and the corresponding number of con-fessors available; methods of examimltion of conscience and the confession itself; the place of spiritual direction; and value judgments with respect to the confessor's. attitude toward this priestly ministry, the sister's attitude toward the fionfessor, and the greatest benefits and diffi-culties experienced by both the priest-confessor and the sister-penitent. Finally, both confessors and sisters were asked to state .how the sacrament of penance could be made more meaningful for sisters. The primary purposes for the questionnaire and hence for this study were, first, to ascertain, as much as is possi-ble within the limits of this sampling, those factors which tend to hinder a meaningful reception of the sacrament; and second, to propose means by which the reception of the sacrament could be made more meaning-ful. In this study we shall confine our remarks to a sum-mary of those factors which tend to hinder a meaningful reception of the sacrament of penance. Positive sug-gestions, based on the questionnaires and other research, will occupy a later study. General Impressions Irom the Questionnaires The survey indicates that most of the priest-confessors have a deep admiration, sympathy, and wholesome con-cern for the sister-penitent. These confessors are conscious of the holiness attained and the holiness sought by these dedicated women. Many desire to help the sisters in their struggle for sanctity, both by the sacramental confession itself and by the opportunities for spiritual guidance provided by the sacrament. These attitudes were quite evident from responses td the question: "What do you find most satisfying regarding sisters' confessions?" By nature (womanly) they have the potentiality of being great women of God and for the Church. If they do not, per-haps it is because we have failed them. However, thirty-seven confessors were unfavorably im-pressed with sisters' confessions in general: The greatest difficulty in hearing sisters' confessions is over-coming the feeling that I 'am mired hip-deep in childish obstacles to the Christian life that I am incapable of changing. These priests expressed the realization and consequent frustration that, at the present time, many sisters' confes-sions are meaningless. When reading the sisters' questionnaires, the authors were impressed by the simplicity, candor, and utter honesty of the comments. Where the sisters are critical of others---be they confessors, superiors, and canon law itself--they are no less critical of themselves. The most evident conclusion to be drawn from these questionnaires is that the sisters, with the exception of five, are faced with many problems in their reception of the sacrament of penance. What is meant to be a sacra-ment of peace and joy is fraught with unpleasant diffi-culties and hardships, many of which are beyond their control: Confession is not a joyful encounter with Christ, but an obligation to be fulfilled. I hope advancements in the near future will help us to acquire the right attitude. 4" 4" 4" t:ontessions o! Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 583 Why Penance Is Less Meaningful Certain factors which tend to make the sacrament of penance less meaningful were identified in both sets of questionnaires. Table 1 lists the number of sisters and/or priests who cited these factors as problems. TABLE 1 Diffculties Encountered by Confessors and Sisters in the Sacrament oJ Penance Cited by 66 Confessors Cited by 133 Sisters Difficulty Routine . Time problems . Lack of freedom . Insufficient training . Examination of consci-ence . Impersonal relationship. Confessor not under-standing . . Environment . Rite . Numbe~ of Con-fessor 33 12 36 16 30 5 Difficulty Routine . Time problems . Lack of freedom . Insufficient training . Difficulty in confessing. Impersonal relationship. Confessor not under-standing . Parish priest for confes-sor . Lack of suitable direc-tion . Environment . Rite . Number of Sisters 53 .40 54 36 44 36 51 56 93 38 ÷ ÷ ÷ I. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 584 ~ Only 23 sisters have their parish priest as confessor. 1. Routine One of the major obstacles to a meaningful reception of the sacrament of penance is routine. The frank answers to the questionnaire reveal clearly the feeling among confessors that most sisters' reception of this sacrament is mere routine ~nd thus utterly meaningless. Most feel the routine is due to its weekly celebration on the same day, and at the same hour, year in and year out. Sisters also are acutely aware of the malaise that comes from "the backlog of years of receiving the sacrament in a most uninspiring way with no conception of the living reality that it is." Routine seems to take the life and vital-ity out of this sacrament and add the "-less" to "mean-ing." Many point to either the interpretation of canon law or their constitutions regarding obligatory weekly confession as one of the chief causes of this routine, not-ing that weekly confession fulfills a law, but not neces-sarily a personal need: I'd likb to go when I feel the need. Canon law needs to .be revised here. The problem of routine seems to have pervaded every aspect of the sacramental process. Some sisters lament routine in their examination of conscience; others in the rite itself. Especially susceptible to monotony is the confession of sins: I tell the same old thing week after week. It makes me feel like a "phony" and because of this feeling, I hate to go. Also I feel that I am boring the priest. The confessor who continually gives the same penance and exhortation also contributes to the rite of routine. Generally speaking, sisters are aware of the devastating effects which accompany the routin~ rut--"the lack of growth in love'--and that the responsibility of avoiding routine lies heavily upon them. They readily admit that ignorance regarding the real meaning of the sacrament of penance is a major factor in routine. There has been a great tendency to blame the indi-vidual for approaching the sacrament in a routine man-ner. It is, however, our contention that a routine recep-tion of penance is only a symptom of other deeply rooted causes, some of which are inherent in the structures surrounding the sacrament itself. These are the causes which we intend to examine. 2. Time Problems Pressure of work and limited time when they can receive the sacrament--when the confessor comes~makes it harder physi-cally and psychologically to receive the sacrament with devo-tion and meaningfu.lness. The allotted time---too little and too often--also in-creases the danger of routine. Often the confessor must rush the sisters through, assembly-line fashion. Little time can be given for any personal concern, guidance, or words of encouragement. Busy confessors are often frus-trated trying to fit in to the tightly organized convent schedule. On the other hand, some sisters have noted that the time arrangement for confessions seems to be best for the confessor rather than for the community. In many places confessions are scheduled at the end of a busy day when mental and physical exhaustion render one "too tired to think." Or what is worse: Confessions are heard by our chaplain a few minutes before Mass in our chapel. Often preparation for confession is unnecessarily hurried under these conditions. One sister makes her examination of conscience "while out of breath after knocking several people down racing to get to confession on return from school." ÷ ÷ ÷ ~onlesslons ol Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 585 I. A. Clarmont, C Sister M. Denis, S.O.$. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 586 However, it is within the confession itself that time pressures ,make their gr.eatest assault: It (confession) seemed to be simply pushing the slide as quickly as possible with a 'minimum of necessary words on either side. Direction??? Two priests for over two hundred sisters in about three hours!ll In large convents time pressures are compounded be-cause of the great number of sisters and the inevitable long lines. One sister typically noted that the greatest difficulty she experienced in receiving the sacrament of p.enance was "the speed with which one receives the absolution and knowing that there ~are fifty people waiting." ~' Both superiors and confessors, in conjunction with the sisters concerned, should examine the confession schedule and ensure enough time for a meaningful re-ception of this sacrament. Any act that must continually be performed in as short a time as possible is bound to be considered of little" importance--and a sacrament is of infinite value. 3. Lack of Freedom Under present conditions, pressures of time have caused much of the confession routine. Causally linked to both problems is the almost uniform lack of freedom for the sisters to confess when, where, to whom, and as often as they wish. One should seriously consider whether or not this problem is at the root of most of the difficulties ;experienced by confessors and penitents. Compulsory weekly confessions, when perhaps sisters are not prepared, have nothing to relate, or are not in the mood, must have a deleterious effect on a fruitful and meaningful recep-tion of this sacrament that demands genuine faith, true sorrow, and a real consciousness of sin. The core of the problem is indicated in the following comments of a priest-confessor: The sacrament should be left up to the free choice of the sister. How, in conscience, can a rule or a superior tell one when to receive the sacrament? Expressing the same sentiment, a sister wrote: Let the sisters be prompted to go to confession by their own inner needs. They are mature women who can surely be trusted to get to the sacraments often enough. Even though the weekly legislation is weakening, most sisters are expected to go to confession at the appointed time. Often unnecessary tension ~s set up between personal conscience and obedience, especially when such legislation is part of the rule to which the sister has vowed obedience. It was quite evident from the question-naires that the majority of sisters, are not free in this regard. As an older sister pointed out, there seems to be some discrepancy between the theology of the sacrament of penance and present legislation concerning the reception of "penance: Since confession is not necessary, except for mortal sins, it would be well for some pronouncement to be made about it to clear away wrong ideas. More and more, the sisters want to take their places with the People of God and to be accorded the same rights, duties, obligations, and privileges: It is well to go to confession in the parish church as part of the People of God and standing in line with them. Some peo-ple seem.to be of the opinion that sisters never go to confession because we never have sins. If they onl~ knewlll For reasons which will be readily seen later in this study, sisters desire the freedom to choose their own confessor, which, of course, implies freedom of place: Each sister should have her own confessor. She should go where he is, if desired, and receive the sacrament in the way she finds most beneficial and personal to her, in a manner agreed upon by herself and the confessor. This mature desire is seconded by many confessors. Cloistered sisters, in particular, are deprived of any opportunities of freedom in regard to confession. One older cloistered sister stated that her greatest difficulty in the reception of penance was the enclosure "because you can't go to different priests:" Another sister in a different cloistered convent suggested that "cloistered sisters who haven't the opportunities available to active sisters be permitted to go to the parish church---or wherever they choose for confession to a priest,of their choice, on a day of their choice." Lacking all of these suggestions she pleaded for bishops to try to make it a point to choose competent spiritual men as confessors for cloistered sisters. As was pointed out by several concerned sisters, the rights of all should be respected. To pass from a rule of weekly confession to another rule of biweekly or monthly confession would still not solve the problem of lack of freedom in the frequency of confession: The few who feel the need of weekly confession and realize the great source of graces received are becoming uneasy. The confessor only comes every second week now, since he knows several of the sisters want it this way. This is depriving those who wish weekly confession many graces. There is no freedom in this case. Since our confessional is the chapel, there is no opportunity to go before Mass. 4- 4- 4- Conlesslons o# Women Religious VOLUME 26, 19~7 ÷ J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 588 4. Insufficient Training Without a theological knowledge of the religious life and its link to the ecclesial aspect of the sacrament of penance, how can the latter be a real benefit to growth in the Christian life? A thorough course on the sacraments in general, with a great emphasis on their relation to the sister's life of service and her spiritual life, is needed. Confessors have noted that many sisters are not properly trained concerning the purpose of the sacrament. Where is the blame to be attributed? Certainly, lack of proper training in novitiates, lack of personal meditation and study of the nature of this sacrament, and hurried preparation due to a lack of time are related causes. Many sisters have received little or no mature training to deepen their knowledge and appreciation of the sacra-ment of penance after the initial preparation for first confession preceding first Holy Communion: We lack training on the sacramental, biblical, and theologi-cal basis of penance. The fact that six sisters stated they found nothing bene-ficial in the reception of penance bespeaks a lack of in-struction: I must say I did more than smile when I saw this survey. It takes all the faith I have and even more to believe in the sacrament of penance. This has become more serious since I entered. Having been brought up with no explanation of it except the fact that it was a habit to go to confession once a month, it meant very little, in fact, nothing to me. Religious life has done nothing to give it more meaning. Instead, it is now a habit to go once a week instead of once a month. Such training should have been an integral part of every novitiate program. Beyond the novitiate there has been a dearth of instruction concerning the meaning of penance: No one has really explained the positive aspect of confession as an encounter with Christ. We need discussion with the confessor on the meaning and value of the sacrament. It seems to me that a whole education for both confessors and confessers is necessary. No doubt, steps are being taken in many areas to remedy the situation, particularly since the aggiornamento of Vatican II. 5. Examination of Conscience Some of the greatest criticism, from the confdssor, was the sisters' apparent lack of nnderstanding how to .ex-amine one's conscience as a religious, the inability to communicate any real openness of soul. Thirty priest- confessors felt that the sisters' examination of conscience was unrealistic. Their major criticisms center on the sisters' tendencies to majorize the minima: "They cut a hair in four." Often their confessions reflect petty violations of rule, a listing of imperfections and failings without consideration for the deeply rooted causes of faults: The sisters don't know what to look for and it is very difficult to get them to realize "sins" against one's neighbor, lying, cheating, pride, vanity, uncharitableness, selfishness are more injurious to their progress in sanctity than missing re-creation, failing to make meditation, impure thoughts and even action. To the confessor, the sister does not seem to develop her own personality in the sacramental context but reflects the thinking of her novice mistress and/or rule. The sacrament of penance designedly fulfills both a psychologi-cal and a spiritual need of the individual, but in the case of sisters, these needs are often served in a very super-ficial way: Their examination of conscience is real in the sense of following a taught and believed-in need, but hardly a real and basic human need. It is more the satisfaction of a conditioned (subconscious) need. Too often the examination of conscience is based on violations of the rule rather than violations of the gospel of Christ: Their desire seems to be to keep a clean slate rather than to live the spirit of the gospel. It would seem from the confessors' remarks that examina-tion of conscience, on the whole, is inadequate and fails to promote growth in sanctity. The sisters also admit that an inadequate examination ~f conscience is a deterrent to a meaningful confession. Some sisters state that their method of examination is too negative or too stereotyped; others feel that they are lacking in self-knowledge; still others find difficulty in deciding each week what is really sufficient important conscience matter. Several sisters expressed dissatisfaction with methods of examination that they were taught: I find examinations dwelling on faults, failings, and slighted points of rule are petty, extremely repulsive, and tantamount to nit-picking. Let's be more concrete: One sister who bases the ~examination of conscience on failings in charity states: This is not satisfactory to me, but I don't know how to remedy it and haven't reached the point.of discussing it openly with someoue yet. + ÷ ÷ Cont~ssions ol Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 589 ].4. ~larmon¢, ~ C.Ss.R. Sister M~ i DS.eOn.i&s, REV]EW FOR RELZGIOUS 590 All of~these difficulties point to a real need for reeduca-tion in this area. 6. Dil~iculty in Co~[essing Unique to their role as penitent, the sisters mention that often they are hampered by fear, reticence, human respect, and an inability to communicate in the confes-sional. Frustration is experienced by those who feel an inability "to manifest simply and clearly.one's weaknesses and spiritual state." On the other hand, there is the sister who apparently knows what to say but is hampered by "the fear of being too frank, thereby embarrassing the confessor and one's self." As one sister said: "I really do not think there is shortage of matter, but just that we cannot bring ourselves to be ourselves." In answer to the question: What do you find the greatest difficulty in your reception of the sacrament of penance?" a sister wrote: What and how to confess sins. There is plenty of matter for confession, but how can you verbalize the multitudinous fail-ures-- real failures? One sister said that she would like to express sins of omission l~ut felt that the confessor would not accept this as matter for a good confession. Another stated that she "would like to feel free to express myself in ordinary terms without the confessor becoming impatient." This difficu.lty persists in some, even with the best of condi-tions: I have difficulty in expressing my problems or difficulties in a clear and brief way even when I have the good fortune to have a confessor who is understanding. 7. Impersonal Relationship Today we hear much about personal relationships. Certainly it would appear that to make the sacrament of penance a means of spiritual growth there must be an interpersonal relationship between the sister-penitent and the priest-confessor, The obvious fact that two hu-man beings are united in the enactment of this sacra- - ment is too readily overlooked due to an "opere operato" mentality. Each person involved in this act of worship should relate to the other--as a communion of persons. But.,then, what about those who desire anonymity? Are the two contradictory? A relationship of concern, interest,. and desire to aid the penitent is sufficient, even though the sister is not known. However, for true spiritual guidancE, anonymity is a hindrance. Recognition of this lack of personal relationship is manifested in the remarks of the clergy: The dialogue is nil even though the confessor makes an attempt at the possibility of discussion on any matter that would ease any problems by the mere relating of them. There is also a desire for better relationship expressed by some confessors: ' Sisters of whatever type they are, with whatever problem they cope with, should be listened to closely, intently, pa-tiently. The confessor remains the key to the beneficial con-fessions of religious women. I am trying to make myself a better confessor by cultivating in myself greater love of God, a deeper insight into the nature of sin, and a better understanding of the person.s who are con-fessing. For most sisters, too, a lack, of true interperson.al re-lationship of the human level militates against a real understanding of the sacrament of penance as an en-counter with Christ. One sister even commented that because of the impersonal atmosphere, "confession can turn into an inhuman act." That the sisters object to being treated as "things" is evident in the following: Confession should be more of a person-to-person encounter, rather than a thing-to-thing. I don't feel that the priest is interested in me as an in-dividual, but in our community as a group. Whenever one speaks of interpersonal relationships, one must be aware of the important role played" by communication and dialogue: A greater sense of an interpersonal relationship is needed in confession, so that one does not feel that one is just another person with another uninteresting story. The biggest problem to my mind is the lack of commumcation between the confessor and myself. He doesn't seem interested in me as a person, so I cannot bring myself to talk to him. Attempts have proved fruitless. I feel that confession is basic to our spiritual life and think that it is high time dialogue with a capital "D" is possible with our confessor in particular, and priests in general. Great benefit can accrue from a genuinely human re-lationship: When I can open up to a confessor who is equipped to listen, I find that I at least can get close to experiencing a meeting with Christ. 8. Confessor Not Understanding When the confessor does not represent the under-standing and patient Christ,. the sisters' difficulties will be augmented. Does the priest himself feel capable? con-cerned? truly helpful? Earlier in. this study we mentioned the appreciation for the vocation of the sisters and for their zeal and holiness. There is a real desire on the part of un-derstanding priests, to help the sisters, to make confession an effective source of Christian growth: + + + ontesaons ot Women 1~eligious VOLUME 26, 1967 591 4. 4. 4. J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. DSe.nOi.sS,. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 592 I am intensely interested in helping religious and proclaim !oudly and often the deplorable injustice which, I feel, priests in general have perpetrated in regard to these tremendous women, and that for centuries. It starts with the kind of "bon-papa" assigned to postulates and continues right on through to the type of retired, nasty, selfish, old bachelor whom no one will put up with except "the dear good sisters." Most priests want to get out of having to hear sisters' confessions and are only too happy to have anyone at all take over the chore, even if it happens to be someone who is good for nothing else. Many priests are sisters' confessors, not by inclination, training, or talent, but by appointment. What could make confession more meaningless to the sisters than the necessity to confess to some priest who merely tolerates his task of hearing their confessions? Or looks upon it as a waste of time? Or feels inadequate for the situation? Those priests who are interested and willing to give the necessary time and effort should "specialize" as confes-sors of women religious. As a priest stated, among the qualifications for a priest-confessor of sisters should be "some knowledge of the psychology of religious women and of counseling along with common sense and compas-sion." It is questionable whether seminary courses in pastoral theology treat of this specialized apostolate. In answering the question: "Are you satisfied with your confessor?" sixty-one sistei:s replied in the negative. Sis-ters are particularly sensitive to the priest's attitude toward hearing sisters' confessions in general: For our confessor, as for most confessors whom I have en-countered, the hearing of sisters' confessions seems to be an unpleasant duty to be got through as quickly as possible and with as little personal involvement as possible. Such an attitude is bound to inhibit the penitent. Others commented that their confessor is one in the strictest sense only, that is, he listens to confessions and gives absolution. Some confessors seem "uninterested, uncon-cerned, and unwilling to be of assistance." An older sister wrote: In my forty-six years of confessions, I can think of three priests that stand out because they were interested and gave all the time one wanted, plus counsel. Further irritation is caused by a condoning manner which implied "that you were a good girl who did not really need confession--'Keep up the good work.'" In addition, impatience, abruptness, moodiness, oversensi-tivity, unapproachableness were cited by the sisters as un-desirable qualities in a priest-confessor. Sisters are distressed by the male mistake of not under-standing the feminine mystique. Neither native intelli-gence nor acquired holiness is a substitute for under-standing feminine psychology. In the confessional the priest is dealing with the whole person--body, soul, mind, feelings. In addition to understanding the psychological and biological factors of women, the confessor should be able to "get behind the externals" in order to understand what "women get frustrated over": The confessor should consider most religious as shy persons; and deal with them as you would a shy person. Those who appoint confessors should see to it that the con-fessor is one who knows what women are, how they function and why; that be knows and understands the cycle of a wo-men- the menopause. We had a confessor who knew nothing of all this and said so, and what is worse, didn't want to know. It's all medical, he said. Furthermore, the feminine expression of the religious life is as different from the masculine expression of the religious life as woman is "from man: If we only had an understanding priest who knew what community living involved. This would solve many problems. From a total of. forty-two sisters with diocesan.priests for confessors, only eighteen expressed dissatisfaction with the confessor since he had no personal experience of community life as lived by religious. Most of the eighteen stated that they would prefer a religious priest. Frequently sisters experience difficulty when the pastor for whom they work, especially in a small town, is their con tess or: It is undesirable to have the pastor or some other priest, who is in frequent contact with the sisters in a professional way, as confessor. It is very apparent that the person of the confessor plays an important role in contributing to the meaning-fulness of the sacrament of penance, without, however, the penitent abdicating her own personal responsibility: Each person needs to find her own personal response to God. The priest can suggest, but the decision must be your own. I have great sympathy for the priegt who has to be a con-fessor to sisters (being stoned to death with popcorn, as one priest put it), but I believe lie must definitely have the in-clination for it, a solid knowledge of feminine psychology, , and the knack of helping his penitents to be more objective in their outlook. 9. Lack Of Suitable Direction ÷ When discussing the lack of spiritual direction as a + factor in rendering the sacrament of penance less mean-ingful, we are adopting, in line with the replies on the. questionnaires, the broad meaning of spiritual direction, onfesslons namely, a personal or general exhortation directed to the Women Religious penitent. Xqhile it is beyond the scope of this study to examine theologically the relationship of spiritual direo 593 tion to the sacrament of penance, such a relationship will be investigated in a later study. Nearly all the confessors gave some spiritual exhorta-tion, either general or personal, and the latter particu-larly when needed or requested: I simply invite them after each confession to bring up any problem they might have before dismissing them. Compara-tively few do so--maybe two per month. General direction is quite useless, a waste of breath. It de-pends on the penitent whether I give personal direction. Some gave a short homily to the assembled community as preparation for the reception of penance. There were a few, however, who merely gave absolution. Only in a few cases, judging from the confessors' re-sponses can we attribute lack of direction as a source of meaningless confessions. However, it is in this area of confessional exhortation that we find the greatest dis-parity between the priests' and the sisters' remarks. Table 2 indicates the number of sisters receiving dif-ferent types of spiritual exhortation or direction in the confessional. TABLE 2 Types of Direotion Received in'the Confessional Type of Direction Number of Sisters General . 58 Specific direction . 42 No direction at all . 33 Of those receiving general direction nineteen sisters stated that they wished to have this type of exhortation continued; four sthted that they did not want any direc-tion. It is noteworthy that thirty-four of the fifty-eight~ sisters receiving a general type of direction desired to have the exhortation related more to the spirit and tone of each penitent's confession, instead of vague, impersonal re-,. marks on some loosely connected topic, such as the Holy Souls: 0f course, I want and need direction. Perhaps I'm just looking for a spiritual pat on the back at times, but I don't want a confessor with stereotyped answers. I want him to + make me think things out. + If we add to these thirty-four sisters, the forty sisters + who receive a specific type of direction and wish to con- I. A. (?larmont, tinue doing so, then there is a total of seventy-four sis- , c~s~. ters indicating a preference for individual direction in sister M. Oe,,is, the confessional. A sister who received personal direction s.o.s. stated: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS At first I found it almost embarrassingly so, but it is of 594 great help, One sister receiving specific direction did not wish to have any at all; and another sister stated that she would rather ask for it when needed. Table 3, illustrating the helpfulness of the type of direction the sisters are presently receiving, is indicative of the sisters' preference for a more personalized exhorta-tion. TABLE 3 The Help.[ulness of Various Types of Spiritual Direction Degree of Helpfulness General Direction Specific Direction Total Possible 58 Total Possible 42 Helpful . 17 37 Not helpful . 21 1 Sometimes helpful . 20 4 Some of the nine sisters who stated that they did not wish to have direction of any type qualified their remarks as follows: No guidance wanted from this type of confessor. In some twenty years in religious life, I personally have met only one regular confessor who was genuinely interested in my prog-ress in holiness. From those receiving no direction whatsoever the fol-lowing remarks imply a sense of frustration or futility: Every week that I have gone to this confessor for the past five years he says, "Once again, Sister, leave it all to the mercy of God and for your penance say three Hail Mary's to Jesus in the Blessed Sacrament." He gives no spiritual direction for anything less than sins of murder! Only four receiving no direction indicated that they did not wish to have any; twenty-nine stated a desire for di-rection of some kind. The whole area of spiritual direction is a delicate one since both the "feast or the famine" extremes pose evi-dent difficulties for the sisters. They would like the con-lessor to be interested and helpful, but without making them feel compelled to reveal themselves. For the con-lessor to ask a lead question such as: "Is there anything else you would like to say?" is welcome and leaves the individual free. As shown previously, many sisters are shy and reticent in the confessional. Such a question would provide them with an opening. From the sisters' viewpoint there seem to be few priests who really understand what they mean when asking for direction: There seems to be a lack of understanding for our way of life--for the desire to grow in love and union with God. Most just can't take the time to bother, or if they waht to help, Conlessions ot, Women Religiott~ VOLUME 26, 1967 595 they can't understand about our life. Some of the younger priests seem to have more of an understanding of spiritual direction in the confessional than many of the older ones. They have caught the spirit of the Council and of the "inner renewal," not just external changes, and have taken special interest in the direction of sisters. Tliere is overwhelming evidence from the survey that the sisters included in this sampling wish to receive di-rection in the confessional as indicated by 122 out of 133 sisters. As was seen, the strong preference is for a more personal exhortation. 10. Environment The problem area that appeared most frequently on the questionnaires is that of the physical environment of the confessional, with ninety-three sisters and thirty-two priests reporting dissatisfaction with the present situation. Table 4 gives a break-down of this figure. TABLE 4 Changes Desired by Confessors and Sisters in the Physical Environment of the Confessional Desired Changes Priests Sisters Wish improvements in the tradi-I tional .confessional . I 16 40 Wish face-to-face confessions in an open room . ] 16 53 4- I. A. Clarmonk, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S~O.S. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 596 There was barely an aspect of the traditional con-fessional that escaped criticism. One priest dryly com-mented: o My experience is d, at while the sisters have built hospitals, schools, and motherhouses equal to the Taj Mahal, they have yet to build a decent confessional. Acoustics in most are poor. Severe criticism was leveled at the double confessional in which one sister said she "had been hearing confessions for years." For the deaf sisters this problem is acute. Poor placement of the confessional ranged from the front of the chapel where the sister "had to face the entire community when com-ing out" to the sacristy "where the sacristan had to be informed and evacuated for extra confessions." Both priests and sisters wished to dispel the dark gloomy at-mosphere in the confessional by more normal lighting. In short, "light, air, more room, and the opportunity to hear and to be heard" are needed. When referring to the type of confessional used, one sister noted that attitudes towards this beautiful sacra-ment could change, ':if the sisters were free to go to con-fession in the place they choose--a sunny, bright room or a closed confessional." Another asserted that any physical change which would make confession more of a sacra-ment of encounter would be helpful. A confessor wrote: I've already abandoned the confessional in the chapel for a portable in a small parlor where privacy is assured even for the hard-of-hearing, where I can look out at the birds, flowers, trees, and squirrels which remind me of the bounty of God whose largesse I am dispensing. For some, the focus of annoyance was the screen or grill in the traditional confessional: I simply cannot relate to a blank screen. It's torture trying to mumble your problems at a white screen. There appears to be relative unanimity among priest-confessors and sister-penitents in their mutual detestation of the confessional "box": ~ The gloomy secretive atmosphere of the confessional does not seem conducive to inspiring anyone with any 'particular joy at being the receiver of such a tremendous blessing. Let's get out of the sweat boxl Is it so necessary that women go to confession in a closed confessional? Can't canon law be revamped in this regard? After all, we say we meet Christ in penance. Why should a grill and darkness set His representative aloof from us? Many priests have decried the ordinary environment, that is, the confessional, as destructive of a personal re-lationship and meaningful confession: Have a place where sisters could be less formal and able to talk in a normal voice, not whispering. Thus they could see their confessor as a spiritual director and not a mere automaton dispensing sins in a machine-like way. Several suggested that confessions be heard in a counsel-ing room where privacy is assured and where both con-fessor and penitent can be at ease. The sisters also question the traditional confessional environment. External surroundings have a great in-fluence on one's attitudes and may have accounted for much of the fear which has accompanied the sacrament of penance for many sisters: Completely revamp the confessional. An across-the-desk or from-one-comfortable-chair-to-the-next would be much more conducive to sincerity and perhaps more practically effective. Christ met Nicodemus out on a rooftop, the adulterous woman in a temple courtyard, Zaccheus in a tree, the cripple at a public swimming pool, Dismas at a public execution. Why in the name of God, our Father, must He meet us in a dark, little, musty box with his hand in front of his eyes, his face turned away, through a screen or grill or even a plastic sheet? What's wrong with being face to face with His representative? in a lighted room? in a comfortable chair? in a relaxed and open manner. We talk about faith. What kind of faith do we show by hiding from the light and warmth of person-to-person communication? You can't take the light of faith and hide it + 4. 4- Conlessions o~ Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 597 4, 4. C.SsJL Sisger M. Den~s, $.0~. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ~98 in a box, but put it out in the open. Penance should be a two-way dialogue with both priest and penitent brought closer to Christ by the encounter. Although these expressions are opposed to a sacred tra-dition of confessional anonymity, yet all of them seem to carry, that cry for a more meaningful interpersonal re-lationship with the priest-confessor. They honestly seek to have a setting that will be more natural, more tiuman, and more conducive to genuine help from this wonderful sacrament. A choice, however, should be left for' the penitent--either a face-to-face accusation or the privilege of anonymity. 11. Rite Our present rite of the sacrament of penance fails to convey the full import of this sacrament: Certainly penance has ceased to be "public" except in name only. Much must be done to restore penance to its place in the public worship of the Church. " We need a complete revision of the liturgy of the sacrament to fit the real needs and become a living sign in their daily lives. Many confessors indicated a desire for communal ex-amination of conscience, for a preparatory homily prior to the reception of the sacrament, and for general abso-lution. Thirty-eight sisters expressed dissatisfaction with the present rite of penance. Of the thirty-eight, twenty-five wished" to have some form of communal penance with optional private confession; seven wished to have some communal exhortation or rite followed by private con-fession; and six wished to have minor changes made in the present rite: It is hard to realize the ecclesial or community aspect of penance under its preseht form. General absolution would make the sacraxnent of penance much more meaningful for me, and I am not a coward or lack-ing in faith when I say this. The development of these suggestions will be con-sidered in a later study when we deal with those factors .that should lead to a more meaningful celebration of this sacrament. Progress is being made by liturgists to make all the sacraments more meaningful. Certainly their reception in the vernacular has helped, but many are still concerned about a truly ex.pressive rite that con-veys the true meaning of the sacrament of penance. Conclusion As stated in the beginning of this study, our purpose is' not academic but practical. As one confessor wrote to I think a great deal of talking, discussion, and beefs have taken place about weekly confessors for sisters. Now it is time for action. I would like to see something done about it. I hope your study leads to some practical results. I love the sisters and feel they deserve to find a greater degree of the ful-fillment in Christ's love which they sought when they embraced the evangelical counsels. It is sincerely hoped that those responsible for the con-fessions of women religious from the diocesan chancery office to the local convent will examine and attempt to rectify some of the problems surrounding the reception of this sacrament. We have tried to show how the various factors which militate against a meaningful reception of penance are interrelated and therefore cannot be considered in iso-lation. The most obvious problem for both confessors and penitents is routine, but the most basic problem is the lack of freedom regarding time, place, confessor, and frequency. If sisters were given the responsibility to see to their own needs regarding penance, then--given normal conditions--time problems, all the difficulties related to the confessor would be eased. The sacramental rite in its present form is neither in-structive nor indicative of the ecclesial purpose of pen-ance. In addition, a truly Christ-like interpersonal rela-tionship between confessor and penitent is impeded by the physical surroundings of the confessional itself. However, for the individual sister, despite all external obstacles, the most effective remedy for routine is a thorough updating and continued education in the theology of the sacrament and its practical application in her own life. Because of little or no formation, the sisters do not really understand how to examine their consciences realistically and hence have great difficulty in the actual confession. These shortcomings on the part of the sister-penitent, in addition to weekly confession when often there is no real need, are greatly responsible for the confessor!s negative attitudes towards sisters' confessions. Underly-ing most of these difficulties lies the inability of the priest-confessor and the sister-penitent to see and to accept one another in their individual roles in the Body of Christ. It was evident from the questionnaires that there is grave mutual misunderstanding between the priest-confessors as a whole and the sister-penitents as a whole. The priests do not seem to comprehend the seriousness of all the problems concerned to the same extent that the sisters do. Many priests admit they do not know how to use the sacrament of penance as an fective source of spiritual growth and development. Furthermore, the sisters often close themselves to re-ceiving the good intentions of the confessor. We feel in-÷ ÷ ÷ Contessions o] Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 599 capable of judging where the fault lies but would like to suggest that both the confessor and the sisters in a given location openly discuss the problems pertinent to their situation. We owe our sincere gratitude to the confessors and sisters who took the time to answer the questionnaires so thoroughly and honestly. It has been a difficult but instructive task reading the questionnaires, assessing various responses, and attempting to be as objective as possible. We hope that our later study will indeed com-plement this negative analysis with truly positive aids towards making confession more satisfying for both confessor and penitent, creating mutual respect, charity, and joy. APPENDIX A FACSIMILE OF THE QUESTIONNAIRE SENT TO CONFESSORS Dear Father: As part of our work in Pastoral Theology at The Divine Word Centre, London, we are making a study of the confessions of women religious. For this purpose we are asking your cooperation in completing the following questionnaire. Your frank answers and any other comments you care to make would be greatly appreciated. Use the back of this paper if necessary. All replies . will be held in the strictest confidence. Please return the completed form UNSIGNED. Rev. J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. 1. Age ____ Diocesan Priest ____ Religious Priest __ (Check one) 2. Number of convents to which you are the regular confessor: + ]. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. , Sister M. Denis, S.O3. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 600 Approximate number of sisters in convent ___ Location of content: City ___ Town or village ____ (Check one) Type of sisters: C!oistered.___ Non-cloistered ___ (Check one) 3. Are you the pastor and/or chaplain to these sister's? Yes __ NO --- 4. If the convent is large, how many other regular confessors assist you? ____ 5. What is your impression of sisters' confessions, in general? Please be sharp and specific. 6. From your experience in hearing sisters' confessions, do you think that their examination of conscience is realistic and adequate? 7. What type of spiritual direction or counsel do you give? (i.e., personal or general) 8. What do you find most satisfying regarding sisters' confes-sions? 9. What is your greatest difficulty regarding sisters' coqfessions? I0. How could the Sacrament of Penance be made more meaning-ful for sisters? 11. Are there any changes you would like to make in the physical environment of the confessional (location, type, lighting, acoustics, etc.)? FACSIMILE OF THE QUESTIONNAIRE SENT TO SISTERS Dear Sister: As part of our work in Pastoral Theology at The Divine Word Centre, London, we are making a study of the confessions of women religious. For this purpose we are asking your cooperation in com-pleting the following questionnaire. Your frank answers and any other comments you care to make would be greatly appreciated. Use the back of this paper if necessary. All replies will be held in the strictest confidence. Please return the completed form UN-SIGNED. Rev. J. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. Sister M. Denis, S.O.S. 1 :' Age __ Occupation 2. Location of convent: City ____ Town or village ___ (Check one) 3. Number of sisters in Convent __ Number of weekly con-fessors ____ 4. Diocesan priest ___ Religious priest ___ (Check one) Is he your pastor and/or chaplain? Yes ___ No __ (Check one) 5. Are you satisfied with your confessor? Please give sharp and specific reasons. 6. How do you make your examination of conscience? 7. What type of spiritual direction or counsel (i.e., personal or general) does the confessor give? Do you want this? Do you find this helpful? 8. What do you find most beneficial in your reception of the Sacrament of Penance? 9. What do you think is the greatest difficulty in your reception of the Sacrament of Penance? 10. How could the Sacrament of Penance be made more meaning-ful for sisters? 1 I. Are there any changes you would like to make in the physical environment of the confessional (location, type, lighting, acoustics)? APPENDIX B STATISTICAL DESCRIPTION OF SAMPLING Priest-Confessors One hundred and ten questionnaires were ~nailed out to con-lessors o[ sisters. Among the returns were sixty-four completed questionnaires, oue partially completed, one letter stating the con-fessor's views and two letters stating that the confessors concerned were no longer occupied with hearing sisters' con[essions. The sam-pling included priests from seven Canadian provinces and two from the United States with representatives from forty-five towns or cities in twenty-one different dioceses. ÷ ÷ + Conlessions o] Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 Twenty-six priest-confessors were under forty-five years of age and thirty-five were over that age; six failed to state their age. Thirty-two of the sampling were diocesan priests and thirty-two 'were religious priests. Thirteen stated that they were the pastor and/or chaplain of the convent in which they heard confessioa~s, while forty-five were outsiders; two were retreat masters. Table 5 summarizes the size of the convents in which die priests heard confessions. TABLE 5 Size of Convent to which Priest-Con.lessors are Appointed 19 priests heard confessions in convents of 10 or fewer sisters. 12 priests heard confessions in convents of 10-25 sisters. 12 priests heard confessions in convents of 26-50 sisters. 4 priests heard confessions in convents of 51-100 sisters. 4 priests heard confessions in convents of over 100 sisters. ÷ ÷ ÷ I. A. Clarmont, C.Ss.R. $iste~ M. D$e.0n,i$s., REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 602 Fifty-four priests were involved in hearing the confessions of non-cloistered sisters and five priests were involved in hearing the con-fessions of cloistered sisters. Thirty-three convents to which they were assigned as confessors are in the cities and twenty-two con-vents are located in small towns or villages. Certain discrepancies in the number of responses and the above totals are due to the fact that some priest-confessors failed to answer each requested item on the questionn.aire. Sister-Penitents ' ~ Out of a total of approxim.htely one hundred and sixty question-nalres sent to the sister~, one hundred and thirty-three were ~:e-turned, including thirty-three sister students at the Divine Word Centre. The sampling of one hundred and thlrty-three, although ~redominffntly Canadian, cuts across seven provinces, eight states, and represents sisters in twenty-six dioceses and eighty-one con-vents. The sampling was fairly equally divided according to age groups: sixty-six sisters were over thlrty-five years of age; sixty-six sisters were thirty-five or younger; and the age of one sister was un-known. Tables 6 and 7 indicate the occupations of the sisters and the size of the convents respectively. TABLE 6 Occupations o] Sisters Involved in the Sampling Occupation Cloistered . Teacher . Nurse . Social Worker . Administration . Catechist . Domestic . Missionary . Retired . Student . Novice . Unknown . Number 45 46 71 6 612811 TABLE 7 Size o.f Convents 18 sisters reside in convents of 5 or fewer sisters. 41 sisters reside in convents of 6-12 sisters. 15 sisters reside in convents of 13-25 sisters. 27 sisters reside in convents of 26-50 sisters. 32 sisters reside in convents of over 51 sisters. Eighty-one convents were located in the city; fifty-two in small towns, villages, or in the country. Ninety-one sisters indicated that their confessor was a diocesan priest. In twenty-three cases the priest was the pastor and/or chaplain; in one hundred and ten cases the priest was an outside confessor. " Conlessions o! Women Religious VOLUME 26, 1967 LADISLAS M. ~RSY, S.J. Chastity in Religious Ladislas M. Orsy, S.J., is professor of canon law at the School ol: Theology; Fordham Univer-sity; ~ Bronx, New York 10458. : REVIEW=FOR RELIGIOUS Whenever the documents of the Council refer to conse-crated life and mention the three evangelical counsels, chastity takes priority over poverty and obedience. In establishing this new, .or apparently new order, the fathers of the Council followed an ancient tradition and also ex-pressed better the internal cohesion between the three counsels. They followed an ancient tradition because from the beginning of the life of the Church, consecrated virginity was considered the sign and the fruit of a spe-cial friendship with God. They expressed better the internal cohesion of the three aspects of our consecration, because it is through virginity that a special union is established between God and a human person. Detachment from material wealth in the form of poverty usually follows the charism of virginity. Both charisms can bring greater fruit if they are inserted into the life of the visible Church. This insertion is made through dedication to works of charity in a community, which is in effect consecration in obedience: Among the three, chastity is nearest to charity; it is the most personal expression of our dedication to God. Before any further explanation, it is necessary that I should clarify my own terminology. There are two key concepts which have to be defined. One is chastity, the other is virginity. Chastity is a virtue which disposes us to the observance of God's laws in all matters concerning sexual life. It has to be present in those who are married and in those who are not. When a person abstains from marriage it is fre-quently said that he is practicing perfect chastity, mean-ing that he is abstaining completely from any use of his sexual faculties. The expression can be used provided no one concludes that the virtue of chastity cannot be perfect in married people. The virtue can be perfect in them al-though their abstinence from sexual life is not omplete.1 The term virginity usually means perfect chastity in those who preserve the integrity of their body. One could object to this definition that virginity is conceived too much in a material sense. It would be better to speak about the spiritual.sense of virginity which means dedica-tion to God in perfect chastity with the intention of pre-serving the integrity of mind and body. Christian virgin-ity in the full sense means a permanent state, the permanent integrity of mind, heart, and body for the sake of the kingdom of God. It is a spiritual virtue. It disposes for a deep union with God and it is the fruit of such a union. Its most important aspect is not in the ma-terial integrity of the body--in itself it could not be a sign of Christian virginity--but in the integrity and in the permanent dedication of the person to God in perfect chastity. .In other words, there is not much difference between perfect chastity and virginity, provided "integrity" means the integral dedication of a person in mind, heart, and body to God. They both mean the same. If we want to remain faithful to the tradition of Christian terminology it would probably be better to speak about virginity than chastity. I shall use the expression virginity when I mean perfect chastity. By both I mean the consecration of a human person to God in integrity of mind and body which excludes any use of the sexual faculties. When I speak about virginity, I refer equally to men and women. When the term celibate is used, it is equivalent to virgin. As I shall explain, virginity is a framework, a container, for a union with God. THE BIBLICAL BACKGROUND The inspiration from Holy Scripture for an under-standing of the virtue of virginity comes in two ways: through the express pronouncements of the inspired texts about virginity and through the example of Christ, His Mother, and His disciples. The' biblical doctrine of a deep and experiential union with God is certainly a help to understand virginity better. XThe term perlect chastity is a misnomer; it misleads the un-initiated and does not express well the thought of the specialist in moral theology. It misleads the uninitiated because it seems to imply that perfect chastity cannot exist in marriage. It does not express the thought of the specialist in moral theology, because if perfect chastity can be achieved by the use of the sexual faculties in mar-riage, the complete abstention from the use of those faculties should not be described by the same term. Even if we agreed, however, that the term perIect chastity should-be abandoned for the descrip-tion of the state of celibacy or virginity, time would be still needed for an agreement on the new terminology. + + + Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 605 4. £,adislas M. Or&y, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 606 Some express pronouncements about virginity in the Old Testament can be found in the life of Jeremiah who remained celibate in order to underline his prophecy. In the New Testament the main texts about virginity are in the Gospels of St. Matthew and St. Luke, in the Epis-tles of St. Paul, and in the Apocalypse of St. John. All through the Scriptures there is an ever deepening empha-sis of this virtue. The life of Christ, the,life of the Mother of God, and the lives of many of the Apostles are in them-selves demonstrations of the Christian value of virginity; The biblical doctrine of a deep experiential union with God is of capital importance for the understanding of the virtue of virginity. This union can be so captivating for a human heart that the person does not want to conclude any close union with a human person. The presence of God in him brings about a special fruit: he wants to re-main virgin. I shall speak mainly about the express references of the Bible to virginity, but I shall refer frequently to the union from which virginity originates,u Jeremiah the Prophet The concept of virginity developed gradually. Its earli-est roots are in the Old Testament. Christian virginity is somewhat foreshadowed in the life of Jeremiah. The prophet embraced celibacy and he himself explained the reason for it: The word of the Lord was addressed to me as follows: "You must not take a wife or have son or daughter in this place. For the Lord says. this regarding the sons and daughters to be born in this place, about the mothers who give birth to them, and about the fathers who beget them in tl~is land: They will die of deadly diseases" Uer 16:1-4). Celibacy in the life of Jeremiah was a prophecy by ~ The purpose of this biblical background is not to prove that the state of celibacy or virginity is an excellent way of following Christ, but to recall the biblical teaching for those who believe in the excellency of the gift. The relevant texts are fragmentary and their full meaning may not be immediately evident. The facts reported in the New Testament, such as the virginal life of Christ, the virginity of His Mother, do not lend themselves to lengthy explanations. They all have a pregnant meaning, though, which was clearly understood by the Church from the apostolic times and ex-ternally manifested by the praise of virginity. Within the scope of a short article the explanations of the texts had to be restrained to the most essential points. A detailed and fine analysis of The Biblical Doctrine o! Virginity by Lucien Legrand, M.E.P., is availa-ble in English, published by Sheed and Ward, New York, 1963. I am indebted to the author and grateful for his work. His analyses of the texts of St. Luke are particularly thought-provoking. Father Legrand stresses also the theological idea of virginal ]ecundity, but 15erhaps not enough the immediate apostolic meaning of the scriptural texts on virginity. The strongly apostolic character of virginity appears everywhere included in the meaning of the terms. deed. He was announcing to the people of Jerusalem that the day of judgn3.ent was coming. In order to demonstrate the proximity of the disaster Jeremiah did not take a wife. Through his celibacy he was crying out that the judg-ment of the Lord was coming and that all should be pre-pared for it. His celibacy had a prophetic value. Paul the Prophet The same thefiae is taken up in the New Testament by St. Paul/He is not concerned with the destruction of Jerusalem. He is concerned with the second coming of the Lord, with the universal manifestation of His glory. Paul is so full of hope that he wants to bypass the realities of this present world of shadows in order to center his at-tention on tl~e expectation of the Lord. He writes to the Corinthians: About remaining celibate, I have no directions from the Lord but give my own opinion as one who, by the Lord's mercy, has stayed faithful. Well then, I believe that in these present times of stress this is right: that it is good for a man to stay as he is (1 Cor 7:25-6). The "present times of stress" here is due to the fact that they were in expectation of the Pa~ousia, the day of judg-ment, the day of the manifestation of the power of the Lord. The underlying idea in the statement of Paul is that the very fact that he remains a celibate dec'lares not in words but in a deed that the real permanent values are in a different wgrld. The prophetic, aspect of celibacy is present in Paul's thought. But while Jeremiah was con-cerned in a somewhat negative way with the tem~poral ruin of Jerusalem, Paul is centered on the coming of the eternal kingdom of Christ. Thr6ugh celibacy he declares that this world is to be transformed into a new spiritual universe. Matthew and the Kingdom In the Gospel of St. Matthew the internal relationship between the state of virginity and the kingdom of God is described. The most important passage on celibacy follows the promulgation by Christ of the new law: a man shouId not divorce his wife. Then: The disciples said to him, "If that: is how things are between husband andwife, it is not advisable to marry." But he replied, "It is not everyone who can accept what I have said, but only those to whom it is granted. There are eunuchs born that way from their mother's womb, there :are eunuchs made so by men, and there are eunuchs who have made themselves that way for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. Let anyone accept this who can" (Mt 19:10-2). The key concept of the text is that to abstain from marriage receives its full mea.ning when it is done on .I. + + VOLUME 26, 1967 607 ÷ Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS behalf.o{ the heavenly kingdom. There is a close relation-ship between the kingdom of Christ and .that state of celibacy or virginity. It is stated also that no one can grasp this gift for himself but it is given to those who are ¯ able to accept what God offers to them. In other words, celibacy is a gift of God. Matthew means by the kingdom of heaven the fulfill-ment of God's promises, the presence of the kingdom foretold by the prophets, announced by John the Baptist, preached by Christ, and to be preached by the Apostles. Celibacy in itself would be empty and without purpose; it receives its meaning through the kingdom. The kingdom means the internal kingdom in the hearts of man and the kingdom to be spread through the preach-ing of the gospel. When a gift is given on behalf of the kingdom, all aspects of the kingdom have to be included. The gift is given to dispose the heart to receive the word of God and to strengthen the person to preach it. Both the sanctifying and the strongly apostolic aspects of virginity are there in Christ's words as reported by Matthew. This kingdom is partially present because Christ is present, and He opened His kingdom to all who repent and are ready to follow Him. It is also to come because the Spirit has not descended, yet on the Apostles and dis-ciples. The concept of virginity in Matthew's Gospel is a complex one: virginity is witnessing present reality and points to a future event. It is the sign of the kingdom present, and of the kingdom to come. The kingdom is present; for its sake one can be celibate. There is no need to wait. At the same time the prophetic value remains, since the fullness of God's promises is still to come. Celibacy points towards the eschatological fullness or per-fection. One could say that in the life of a celibate person reality and prophecy coincide. Virginity is a sign of the kingdom present here and now and of the kingdom to come when Christ appears in His glory. Let us note that virginity is not a condition to enter the kingdom but it is a special gift within the kingdom for., those who can accept it. Matthew makes it clear that he conceives celibacy as a particular gift given by God to some who are following Christ and are disciples of Christ. Not all followers and all disciples will have the same gift. .,In another passage, Matthew reports the saying of Christ that in the resurrection there is no such thing, as marryi~ng or°being given in marriage: For at the resurrection men and women do not marry;~ no, they are like the angels.in heaven (Mr 22:30). o In other words, the state of' virginity is~ the beginning of the same state of life in some whidh will be the ~hare of all who will enter the heavenly kingdom. In heaven there will be no need for procreation because the number 6f the chosen ones will have be~n completed. The king-dom of God will be there in its fullness. Marriage would be purposeless. It follows that the state of virginity is the beginning of the state of imniortality. Through it a person takes up his final status in the kingdom of God. Luke and the Following of Christ Luke leads us even further into the mystery of virginity. For Luke, as for Matthew, the kingdom of God has come with Christ. But Luke gives more thought to the relation-ship of a disciple to Christ; to the union that exists be-tween Christ and His follower." For him virginity is the sharing in a special way of the death and also of the glorification of Christ. Special way here means an indi-vidual vocation, not given to all believers. The most im-portant text is: He said to them, "I tell you solemnly, there is no one wh~ has left house, wife, brothers, parents, or children for the sake of the kingdom of God who will noLbe given repayment many times over in this present time and,~in the world to come, eter-nal life" (Lk 18:29-30). He who follows Christ by 1.eaving behind his wife, that is by taking up the state of celibacy, leaves this world and enters another one. He shares the condition of Christ who is leaving this world to enter into the house of His Father. The person who leaves behind hig wife and all that he has in this world shares the death of Christ. Another text from St. Luke proves that this is not an exaggeration: If any man conies to me without hating his father, mother, wife, children, brothers, sisters, yes and his own life too, he cannot be my disciple. Anyone who does not carry his cross and come after me cannot be my disciple (Lk 14:26-7). That is, there is an analogy between leaving behind one's wife and family and taking UP the cross. There is an analogy between celibacf and leaving one's own life and dying with Christ. To follow Christ means to leave this visible and tangible world and the persons or objects most precious to us and to go into an unknown world. To leave behind one's own wife is the sharing in the life of Christ; it is sharing His cross and His death. In Luke's Gospel the theology of: the life of a Christian as life in Christ is emerging. It is necessary to be :unite.d to Christ's cross in order to participate in His eternal life. Finally, as in Matthew's Gospel, in Luke's too, the king-dom has a dynamic character: it has to grow and expand. To become celibate for the kingdom'ssake means to tal~e a share in the building of the kingdg~n, in the saving acts of Christ--celibacy has an apostolic character and finality. + + + Chastity VOLUME 2~, 1.967 609 4- 4- Lad/s/as M. Orsy, S.I. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 610 Paul and the Glory o/ Godn The new theme of sharing the glory of Christ through virginity is best expressed by St. Paul in 1 Cot 7:25-39. He does not say that matrimony is wrong. On the con-trary, marriage is good. But he says: I would like to see you free from all worry. An unmarried man can devote himself to the Lord's affairs,, all he need worry about is pleasing the Lord; but a married man has to bother about the world's affairs and devote himself to pleasing his wife: he is torn two ways. In the same way an unmarried . woman, like a young girl, can devote herself to the Lord's affairs;' all she need worry about is being holy in body and spiyit. The married woman, on the other hand, has to worry about the world's affairs and devote herself to pleasing her husband. I say this only~ to help you, not to put a halter round your necks, but simply to make sure that everything is as it should be, and that you give your undivided attention to the Lord (1 Gor 7:32-5). Being holy in body and spit.it: the word holy is the key to the understanding of the text. When Paul uses the expression holy he uses it according tolthe Old Testament tradition. Anything is holy which has been sanctified by God through the presence of His glory and power, For the Israelites Mount Sinai was holy because the glory of God descended on it. The temple of Jerusalem was holy for them because the presence of God overshadowed its internal sanctuary which was called the Holy of Holies. A person who receives the gift of virginity is holy because the power and g~ory of God descended on him, over-shadowed him, and consecrated him. We should try to put ourselves into the mind of Paul. For him the Temple of Jerusalem had no more meaning. The sacrifices of the Old Testament came to an end and the holiness of God left the Temple. Now the holiness of God resides in every Christian and in a particular way in those who received the gift of virginity. Those who re-ceived this special gift are consecrated temples of God. Their lives belong to the. new cult of a new age, the age of the Spirit. They are overshadowed by the divine presence, therefore they are holy. In their lives a new cult, a new liturgy emerges, similar to that which will be the cult and liturgy of the eternal and immortal kingdom of God. In this sense the soul and the body of a celibate person has been assumed into the spiritual kingdom of God. Another approach to the theology of St. Paul on mar-riage and virginity can be made through the ~Epistle to a Xavier L~on-Dufour, S.J.0 published an excellent article on St. Paul's doctrine on marriage and virginity. He shows how in ~the mind of St. Paul marriage belonged to the earthly realities of the kingdom of God, and virginity to the kingdom to come. See "Mar-iage et virginit~ selon saint Paul," in Christus, v. 11 (1964), pp. 179-94. the Ephesians. Since for St. Paul marriage belongs to this transient world and is a temporal institution, it can stand as a symbol or sign of Christ's union with His Church. Paul is taking an earthly reality, marriage, to demonstrate and illustrate a heavenly mystery. Virginity is not an earthly reality, therefore it cannot be taken to illustrate something final. Virginity is a final reality in itself. It is the final state of God's chosen ones. It cann6t serve as a symbol for anything else. There is nothing be-hind a reality which is final. In the virgin the mystery of the resurrection is already present and alive because his soul and body have been consecrated by the Holy. Spirit. Paul states many times that it was the Spirit of the Father who raised Christ from the dead. It is the same Spirit who gives new life to a human person, vivifies him through the gift of virgin.ity, raises him from this world, and gives him the power and glory of the ~vorld to come: The life of virgins has an analogy with the life of God's blessed ones in heaven. , In St. Paul's theology to receive the, gift of virginity means to receive the strength and glory of the Spirit of the Father and of Christ ::in a special way. And the virgin belongs to God precisely because he has received this special gift. The Facts of Our Redemption To the analysis of these many texts a substantialremark should be added: the four Gospels, the Epistles, and the other documents of the New~ Testament.literally~ breathe the atmosphere of virginity. In the center of them is Christ who was virgin. He was born from a woman who remained virgin. Among the Apostles John was whom Jesus loved. John, too, was a virgin. St. Paul, perhaps the most dynamic among the Apostles, declares his intention to remain celibate. In the description of heaven in the Book of the Apocalypse those who are saved are described as virgins. The text witnesses the author's esteemffor the state of virginity:4 Next in my vision I saw Mount Sion, ~nd standing on it~a Lamb who had with him a hundred and forty-four thousan'd people, all with his name and his Father's name written on their foreheads. I heard,a so, und coming o.ut of the sky like the souhd of the ocean or tlie roar of thunder: it seemed to be the sound of harpists playing their harps. There in front of the throne they were singing a new hymn in the presence of the four animals andthe elders, a hymn that could only be learnt by the hundred and forty-four thousand ~ who had been re-deemed from the world. These are ~he ones who have kept their virginity and not been defiled with ~b6men; they follow the Lamb wherever he goes; they have b~n redeemed from amongst men to be the first-fruits for God and fdr the Lamb~ t Cf. Kittel-Friedrich, Th~ologisches Wb'rterbuch zum Neuen Testament, Band V, parthenos, p. 835. ° Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 gll ÷ ÷ Ladislas M. Orsy, Sd. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS They never allowed a lie to pass their lips and no fault can be found in them (Ap 14:1-5). THEOLOGICAL REFLECTION Christian virginity is so closely connected with the in-carnation, with the distribution of graces in the Church, and with the presence of eternal life here on the earth that it has something of the nature of a. mystery. There-fore it cannot be fully explained by concepts and defini-tions, although they can be of help. However, images and symbols from our Christian tradition can take over where the notional knowledge ends; and they can convey a deeper understanding of God's gift. Some clear theological principles will help to .prepare the. ground for this understanding: (a) Christian virginity is not identical with divine char-ity. If it were, the kingdom of God would b.e reserved to virgins, and to virgins alone. But the kingdom is open to all men of good will whether they be married or virgins. Since charity is infused into our hearts by the Spirit, every man who is called to live by charity is called to live in the Spirit. Therefore,, the union with the Spirit of God is not the privilege of the virgins. All are called to a divine union. (b) Virginity removes "'some obstacles which might draw a person away [rom the fervor of charity and the perfection of divine worship, (Lumen gentium, 44). Frankly, this is a negative principle. Yet it has a real meaning. It expresses that virginity is dying to this world in order to be raised to a.nother one. The dying is neces-sary because the internal dynamism of a human person is far from being fully balanced. In many cases it centers on human persons and on temporal care with such an intensity that it is not able to rise to a generous love of God. The mystery of the cross is shining through here. (c) Virginity helps a person to derive more fruit from his baptismal grace. It is not the baptismal grace. Chris-tians are baptized for a life of charity, and not that of virginity. But virginity can help in developing thee bap-tismal grace by creating an internal dynamism which turns a human person fully and continuously toward Christ and eternal life. A human heart can be great enough to love God alone. Virginity introduces a certain alertness and sensitivity to the. inspirations of the Holy Spirit, a certain readiness to follow them. (d) Virginity is the fruit of baptismal grace. There is no spiritual gift which is not rooted in some way in the baptismal grace; in the personal presence of the Spirit in a Christian. Virginity is a special fruit, it is given to some and not to all. The reason for giving it to a de-termined person is hidden at the depth of God's thoughts; we could never find it. Since the gift of virginity is rooted in the baptismal grace, it carries the mark of Christ's death and resurrection. These few theological principles do no more than to clear the ground for further thought. They will also bring some clarity into the coming explanation--or should I say--contemplation of Christian virginity. Man Was Created to Have a Companion To balance the abstract principles it is good to turn to a basic fact of human life. God made man to have a companion. This need is built into a human person's body and soul. It comes from God Himself, and no man can change it: The Lord God said: "It is not good that the man should be alone. I will make him a helpmate" (Gn 2:18). This need is fulfilled in marriage, which is a deep personal union between man and woman. They become one flesh, as St. Paul says; and what is even more impor-tant, they should become one spirit. The physical union of their bodies should be an expression of their spiritual union. Marriage is not perfect unless the union ex-tends to the two persons' mind, heart, and body. When this union exists between a man and a woman, it be-comes so absorbing, so absolute that it excludes any simi-lar union with a different person. There follows the duty of mutual fidelity. Human nature can be enriched by one union, but it is too limited to have a marital union with more than one person. The union in marriage is holy. Christ Himself made it a sacrament. St. Paul has chosen it to be the symbol of Christ's union with the Church. Marriage is in fact so good and so fulfilling for a man or for a woman that it would be unwise to refuse it in ordinary circumstances. It can be wise however to accept a call from a divine Person who promises love and companionship in a way that no human being can give. When God Offers Himself to Be a Companion to a Human Person From the fact that man was created to have a com-panion, now we turn to an existential event. It is the irruption of a new experience into a human life: God offers Himself to be the one and exclusive companion of a man. It happens in a new encounter between God and man; it is the offer of a covenant. It comes from the jealous God of Israel. Let us see its terms.5 ~This experience happens substantially to anyone who decides to take up the state of celibacy or virginity, since no one can do so without first realizing the overwhelming value of a friendship 4- 4- 4- Chastity VOLUME 26, 613 + + + Ladislas M. Orsy, S.l. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 614 Companionship has a special sense here. God is the friend of every Christian, of every human being. Son'/e-times, however, He wants to keep up a special friendship, a refreshing and exhilarating friendship with a human person through a personal conversation or dialogue, through the communication of His kno~wledge and of His love, through union which excludes distractions and too deep roots in this world of shadows. The human person will not be immediately holier for this offer, but he will have a source of holiness if he accepts God's gift in faith and fidelity. The companionship offered carries the seal of God's immensity; He reveals something of His wealth and riches. He does not mislead the person; from the begin-ning it is clear that He is a spiritual being and that His friendship moves on a transcendent plane. What He offers is a communion in His Spirit, the sharing of divine things in a divine way. The offer attracts the whole hu-man person, it appears as satisfying the deepest of human aspirations, It is an experience of God's presence. It is overwhelming. It takes possession of a human person. Jeremiah's words in his confessions could be applied to it: You have seduced me, Lord God, and I have let myself be seduced: you have overpowered me: you were the stronger (Jer 20:7). It is the irruption of divine strength into the life of man. When God concludes this special companionship with a man, any other deep union with a human being, as happens in marrizige, is excluded. The result of God's invitation, or, to use the biblical term, of God's seduction, is that a new type of spiritual union is concluded between God and man. A personal conversation begins and a dia-logue. Knowledge and love are being communicated and man is enriched by it. But, since a human being is lim-ited, he cannot contract a human union, that is marriage, which would in its own way be deep and absorbing, too. Therefore, the right conclusion of this special visitation of God is consecration in virginity. Virginity becomes the fruit of God's call, fi'amework of God's presence, and the best disposition to hear God's words in silence. Through virginity the heart and the mind, the soul and the body are established in a silence, with God. However, this realizatiou may be implicit and inarticu-late, and the person may not be fully aware of it. In a reflexive way he may know only that he wants to be a priest or a nun. But if his vocation is a genuine one, theologically there cannot be any doubt that an inspiration .of the Holy Spirit preceded his desire and that the inspiration was perceived. This obscure and initial encounter with God will have to develop later into a clearer and more penetrating experience of God's presence in a Christian per- SOIl, in a sensitivity, in which communication with God is made easier. No wonder if a man does not want to con-clude a marriage in these circumstances. Of course, God's companionship is spiritual. But the spiritual grace is infused into the whole person, into the soul and the body as one, and it begins to give a new balance to the whole man, including his body. That is why a man who has no companion ac.cording to the law of his nature can appear happy, balanced, and relaxed. The spiritual is holding the material in equilibridm. Return to the Bible: Mary and Paul The specific gift of virginity consists in a particular strength which balances the natural instincts of the body in a spiritual way. There is an experience and there is a new strength infused into a human being. A description of this call and of this communication of strength is given by St. Luke through the words of Mary in the Magnificat. Mary declares in it that she experienced the communica-tion of a particular strength from God which kept her virgin and made her mother. Therefore she is full of joy ¯ and is praising God: And Mary said: My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord and my spirit exults in God my savior; because he has looked upon his lowly handmaid. Yes, from this day forward all generations will call me blessed, [or the Almighty has done great things for me. "Holy is his name, and his mercy reaches from age to age for those who fear him. He has shown the po.wer of~ his arm, he has routed the proud of heart. He has. pulled down princes from their thrones and ex-alted the lowly. The hungry he has filled with good things, the rich sent empty away. He has come to the help of Israel his servant, mindful of his mercy according to the promise he made to our ancestors of his mercy to Abraham and to his descendants for ever (Lk 1:46-55). All through the prayer there is a declaration that Mary had an experience, and it was the communication of a particnlar strength from the Spirit of' God. It kept her virgin and made her mother: There is a sense of fulfillment, of elation, of deep gratitude in this prayer. The Creator and His creature found each other in a new relationship. The gift of virginity includes the experience of a new type of union with God which is a communication of strength. Without this experience no one could ever Chastity VOI;UME 26, 1967 Ladlslas M. Orsy, .~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 616 d~clare that he wished to be a virgin because he simply would not know that God offers this gift to him. Paul also describes the effect of this call and of this communication of strength:; I would lik~ to see you free from all wdi'ry. An unmarried man can devote himself to the Lord's affairs, all he need worry about is pleasing the Lord; but a married man has to bother about the-world's affairs and devote himself to pleasin~ his wife: be is torn two ways. In the same way an unmarried woman, like a young girl, can devote herself to the Lord's affairs; all she need WOrry about is being holy in body and spirit. The married woman, on the other hand, has to worry about the world's affairs and devote herself to pleasing her husband (1 Cor 7:32-4). , What Paul is saying is that the unmarried men and women receive a new freedom to enjoy God's presence-- His glory and His power in them'. Also they: are free to, plan how to bring the good message of the Gospel to others. A new strength frees them from human bonds and gives them divine energy. Living in union with Christ is the ~ift of all the elect. Virginity is the gift of some; it is a framework for this union. About the Union That Gives Life to Virginity The union which is enframed by virginity is the'corn-mon union of all Christians with the thre~ divine Persons. The specific gift of virginity is a certain transparence of this union in our consciousness, an obscure experience of God's personal presence, which is so strong in its weak-ness that it calls a man away from human companionship and installs him in "God's re-creating friendship.No per-son could desire virginity, unless he found another per-son who is more lovable than any man. The union with God takes place on a spiritual level; it is not a material communication. It strengthens the spirit of the human person who receives it, but in no way fulfills his natural desire to be one with a human com-panion. Yet, it makes the man whole, and the spiritual abundance that he receives reverberates in the body so much that there is a decreasing sense of frustration 'and an increasing experience of fulfillment for the whole person. Natural instincts do not die, but they begin to learn to give way to new impulses which come from the Holy Spirit. In other terms, God gives a spiritual gift, but this gift is never transformed into a material medi-' cine, The physical and psychological laws of human nature remain in operation; ther~ is no miracle. An example will illustrate my thought. When the. Holy Spirit inspires a person to take up fasting for the sake of the kingd6m, for some spiritual g6od, the Spirit is not promising that the person ~oncerned will not be hungry. He will be. The Spirit is effectively pledging Himself only to give a new spiritual strength that helps to bear the hunger for some greater good. However, the spiritual strength will balance the whole person and may make him happy and relaxed even if hungry--provided the fasting remains within the limits of prudence. Similarly, the spiritual union with God from which virginity originates does not fulfill the desires of the body. They remain unfulfilled. But the Holy Spirit lifts the whole man into another, spiritual world where the grace of God enriches even the body. Virginity ls an Anticipation of the Grace of Our Resurrection With the Resurrection of Christ and the coming of the Holy Spirit, God's glorious kingdom entered into our human history. With the dawn of the first Christian Easter and with the day of the first Christian Pentecost, a new glorious age began, an age that God the Father had prepared from all eternity, revealed through His Son, and perfected by the sending of His Spirit. In this new age, to which we belong, immortal glory and power is being distributed among the children of men through the Holy Spirit. Heaven meets earth, eter-nity joins time. The grace of virginity, as it springs from charity, belongs to this age. Those who are baptized in Christ died in their baptism with Him and were raised from the dead in Him. The glory and power of His Resurrection is on them; it heals them, strengthens them, and makes them long for the manifestation of the glory of the children of God that is hidden now. The gift of virginity is a small share in the glory of the risen Christ. St. Paul says that the body of Christ was vivified by the Spirit; the Resurrection was the infusion of the strength of the Spirit into the inert body of Christ. The grace of virginity is the infusion of the strength of the Spirit into a mortal man, the infusion of a spiritual strength that makes the body more alive than it ever was; alive with a new spiritual strength in a new spiritual kingdom. Virginity is the sharing of the grace of the risen Christ, a small anticipation of our own resurrection, a spiritual grace that vivifies the body, the manifestation of the hidden glory of God's children. Hence the transformation. Those who are virgins are anxious about the affairs of the Lord. The point of gravi-tation of their life is in a new world. Hence the spiritual alertness of the whole person to the inspirations of the Spirit, the sensitivity of new light and fuller love. The eternal kingdom of God is present in this temporal ÷ ÷ ÷ Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 ÷ ÷ + Ladislas M. Orsy, ~ S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 618 world; the divine gift is carried in a container made from clay; This circumstance does not change the nature of the gift, but it :should make the person who ,received it cautious. Virginity Is a Dynamic Virtue The gift 0f virginity could be easily conceived as a static, perfectly finished gift, which once given stays with the person forever, provided he does not willingly lose it or destroy it. Nothing is further from the truth. The parable of the mustard seed applies to virginity, as to any other Christian virtue. In the beginning it is a small seed: it needs the. evangelical good soil to grow and to develop. As a young plant it is tender ~ind sensitive: it needs help and protection. But when it grows into a large tree it can stand alone, it can weather the storm, and it can give shelter to many. The dynamic character of the virtue of virginity is rooted in our union with the Trinity. The union is not a' static gift. Once given, it is there to develop steadily. The impact of God's presence on the life of a Christian should continuously increase; the love of God that was infused into his heart should help him to grow into the full stature of Christ. Since virginity originates in this union, it has the same dynamic character as the union. The union of the Virgin Mary ,~ith the Holy Spirit was perfect; therefore the strength of her virginity was perfect too. A similar law applies to other human beings: the strength of their union with God is reflected in the strength of their virginity--if they received this gift. No exception is 'possible: virginity cannot be stronger than the union. It will be plain human and Christian wisdom to draw th& practical consequences. There are no two persons who are equally gifted, there are no two persons who are equally strong. Each one should honestly assess his gift and live accordingly. When the good seed of virginity. is sown into a human nature which is full of emotional turmoil and imbalances, the seed can be killed easily-- Christ our Lord says so. The growing plant will need care and attention. If it is not given, the plant may perish. But what wise man would build a wall to protect a strong, fully grown tree? The tree should stand free so that the weary pilgrims on their way to the new Jerusalem can see it from afar and can find shelter and protection. under its strong branches. ¯ The wisdom in preserving virginity is in sensing and following the progress indicated by the Spirit. To seek too much human fulfillment while the gift of virginity is taking.root may cut short a developing special friendship with God. The, friends of God were always trained and tested in some sort of desert, It may have been symbolic, it may have been spiritual, but desert it was. It can be bypassed only in the imagination of some, neverin real-ity. Not even Christ bypassed it. But when the gift of virginity develops, it is a light that has to shine, it is leaven that has to be put into the mass, it has to sanctify our world. Therefore, apart from par-ticular and specialized vocations, the virgins should meet the people of God and talk to them about the kingdom: that it is here. They should announce the good news in a loud voice (the Gospel uses the expression, "on the rooftop"), and they should ~ommunicate the love and charity that is in them to every human being. Such bibli-cal ideas should help wit.h the problem of the revision, of the law of enclosure or the involvement of consecrated persons in this world. To enclose a light can be a sin against the Spirit, Some will ask, no doubt, is there not a danger that the light might be extinguished sometimes? There is such danger and it can be taken for granted that there will be lights which will fall victim of the darkness: But.the answer is not in enclosing all the lights behind strong walls, but in letting even more lights to shine so that the world can see the sign of God's presence on the earth. The aim and purpose of consecrated virginity is to make the communication of God's love easier. Virginity has a meaning only "for the sake of the kingdom"-Zthe kingdom to be spread. To make the preaching and the teaching of the kingdom more difficult for those who are consecrated persons is to reverse the hierarchy of Chris-tian values. It would mean to imprison the love of God for the sake of precautions. Virginity in ordinary circum-stances is given for the sake of better dedication to an apostolic task, for a better communication of graces. The Aposiolic Finality o[ Virginity The value of virginity is not in itself. It is in its rela-tionship to our union with Christ and to His kingdom. Virginity is like good soil [or the union: those who are not married are anxious to be holy in body and spirit, and they are anxious about the affairs of the Lord (see 1 Cor 7:34). Every Christian is a disciple and an apostle of His Master. It follows that the union that he has with Christ has to be deepened and has to :be communicated to others. .It is in this~ communication that the apostolic finality of virginity comes to the fore. Not in the simple and somewhat crude, sense alone that because a virgin has no family, he is therefore free in time and space to meet others. Nor only in the sense that he can be better dedi- + + + VOLUME 26, 1967 619 cated. True, when it is a question of going to foreign lands or to persons afflicted with contagious diseases the celibate priest is in a better position than the married one. Yet, the substance of the question is not there. It is in the intensity of God's love that can develop in a virgin and can be communicated with a freedom that only virginity can give. This freedom is primarily in-ternal: God's message flows through a humanmind and heart and is not interfered with by our human ways of thinking and doing. The union given to a Christian is a dynamic gift: it has to be communicated--the kingdom has to expand. Virginity is the best vehicle given for this expansion. It is thus that the saying of Christ about celibacy "on behalf of the kingdom" receives its full meaning: it includes the spreading 9f the kingdom. Therefore, seclusion within a cloister or an enclosure remains a specific vocation: holy and legitimate, blessed and praised by the Churcl~, but not ordinary. The com-mon evangelical rule is that the virgin and the celibate has the vocation to facilitate the propagation of the king-dom. Any other interpretation would suffer from an in-ternal contradiction. The cult of virginity is valid in the context of apostolic life: it is given to facilitate the com-munication of God's message. I say this with profound respect for those who have a different vocation and have to serve God within the cloister. Their virginity exists to carry an intense prayer life and to serve the kingdom's cause through prayer. It is through prayer that the apostolic finality of virginity is fully present there. + + + Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Community Life and Consecrated Virginity It is natural that those human persons who receive the special gift of virginity like to come together and like to form a community. Such a community itself should be marked by the virtue of virginity in its internal relations among the members and also in its external relations with others. Internally, within the community, the gift of virginity should free each of the members from human anxieties and make him more able to spread the love of God. Therefore personal communications should be easier and more relaxed than in any other type of community. The purpose of the members should be the introduction of each other into the mystery of the union with God. We come back to the same principle: the meaning of virgin-ity is to increase the love of God and the expansion of it. Practical consequences abound. Overstressed silence can paralyze this communication, and so can restrictive prac-tices in matters of meetings and correspondence among the members of the same religious institute. Such prac- ticds have an opposite purpose to the one that God has given to virginity. Virginity is given to free the person, even externally in human relations, and not tobuild a wall round him. Also the way of life of the community should reflect the impact ¯ of the grace of virginity on them as a .community. It should favor a delicate sensitivity to grace which is so characteristic for virginity. The community should have an integrity of mind and spirit in all common actions, an integrity that is a dedication to the inspirations of the Holy Spirit. Briefly, the atmosphere in the community should favor an all pervading union with God. Happiness and relaxa-tion are of primary importance in creating a common disposition for God's grace. Strains and tensions are probably the most common impediments to God's work-- even if strains and tensions are the result of common ob-servance. The human faculties become paralyzed and are not able to perceive God's graces, still less able to sustain a loving attention to Him. Man is a social being, and can-not be anything else. By renouncing the close companion-ship of marriage, he is not renouncing his social being. Therefore, he needs a happy and relaxed community life with all the freedom that virginity can add to it. If any-thing, the ~gift of {,irginity makes a person more social than he ever was: it opens him up to all. The spirit of friendship is favored in a good commu-nity. And in saying this, I am moving on biblical grounds, and I am faithful to Catholic traditions. Nowhere in the Bible is friendship condemned; it is praised in many places, and it is present in the lives of many good persons. The history of the Church is full of the history of great friendships; There cannot be a healthy relationship with God without a health); relationship with human friends. However, in 'individual cases the natural and super-natural resources that a person has should be taken into account. If someone is strongly rooted in God's grace, friendship becomes a source of grace too. If someone is not sutfi-ciently rooted in God's love, the balance of natural in-stincts and supernatural gifts is precarious in him, and he may approach the best opportunity for friendship with a confused mind and unruly emotions. Each co.mm.unity, as each person, needs wisdom to know the limitations of its strength. They need determination to protect them-selves when it is necessary, .and supernatural courage to discard unnecessary restrictions. The friendship of those who are consecrated persons can be best described as the friendship of travelers. They all go and look in the same direction. The friendship + + + ~lmstity VOLUME 26, 1967 6~1 Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 622 between a man and a woman which develops into mar-riage can be described as the friendship of dwellers. They look at each other. A sign of a good friendship is also that it does not have a sl~irit of exclusiveness. On the contrary, it wants to expand. The friends are eager to share what they have with many others. The better friends they are, the less they are involved with each other. They are in-volved together in others. Perhaps this is the place to mention that virginity can be destroyed by overprotection. A virgin renounces mar-riage, but he does not renounce social and commun, ity life. If, in order to protect virginity, genuine and happy social relations are destroyed, a person is deprived of one of his most basic human needs and native rights. There-fore, a fundamental sense of frustration is bound to arise in him causing tension and unhappiness. This may lead to the conviction that he had no vocation to virginity, which in these circumstances would be a false conclusion. However, since the frustration persists, a young man may leave the seminary, or a young woman may give up re-ligious vocation. The gift of virginity was destroyed by misguided good will. It does not follow in any way that sentimental and futile social relationships should be fostered: it is toward health that we aim and not to a new type of illness. A community of consecrated persons will have to consider also what the right balance should be in its relationship with those who do not belong to the community. The greater the impact of grace on the community and the closer its union with God, the less enclosure they will need; the less the community is rooted in union with God, the stricter the enclosure ought to be. It could also be said: the happier the community, the less restrictions are needed, because the internal happiness will anchor every person to the community and will ca.ll him back when he is away from it. But it will take a barrage of rules to keep an unhappy community together, since all natural (and even supernatural) forces will pull the per-sons away from it. The Gift of Virginity: Sanctification of the Person, Sanctification of the Church Virginity could be looked at as a purely personal gift, given for the sanctification of an individual. True, vir-ginity could exist without being inserted into the ex-ternal, visible life of the Chur.ch, in fact, without the Church knowing about the gift at all. A person is fully entitled to accept the gift of God and remain silent about it. Virginity could be looked at also as a gift for the sake of the others only. A sign that leads others to eternity, but which is not for the sanctification of the one who received it. Both approaches are one-sided. All gifts in the Church are for both, the sanctification of the person who receives it and for the good of the whole Church. Abraham be-came the friend of God and the forefather of all believers. David was chosen to be a king according to Yahweh's heart and to fulfill an historic mission through consolidat-ing the union of the twelve tribes of Israel. The gift of the Spirit in Mary made her the immaculate and holy Mother of God. The Apostles were chosen for a mission, and they became the close friends of Christ, sanctified by His Spirit. The two aspects cannot be separated, or only on a notional level. Speculating about essences one can cer-tainly say that a grace is given for the sanctification of the person only, or for the good of the community only. But in God's existential approach such separation can hardly exist. A grace given to an individual immediately flows out to sanctify the Church, and the grace given for the welfare of the community touches first the heart of the person who receives it. Lamp without Light The essence of virginity is that it carries our fragile union with God. It protects, it defends, it shelters this union. The tragedy whicli may happen to some who are consecrated virgins is that the virginity is there but the union remains lifeless: there is no dynamic growth and development in it. The framework exists, the content is too weak. Such a person is like a lamp with no light. Consequently he does not radiate light; he leaves his surroundings in darkness. This is a tragedy that could happen to a consecrated person. He may keep the integrity of heart and body but at the same time his internal life will not know the light and love of the Holy Spirit. Frequently, he will take ref-uge in an extreme legalism. In such a case virginity is nearly meaningless. It could not be called a true sign. The essence of a sign is that it connects two persons or connects persons with different places and objects. An empty virginity does not connect anyone with eternal life. The lamp has to be filled with oil to give light. Conclusion It is easier to see now why virginity has the primacy in our religious consecration. Through virginity a special bond is established between God and man: they become companions. The grace of virginity is a spiritual grace; yet it vivifies the body and gives a new balance to it. + + + Chastity VOLUME 26, 1967 Therefore it is the anticipation of the grace of resurrec-tion, the manifestation of the otherwise hidden glory of the children of God. The other aspects of our consecra-tion follow virginity. A human person who entered a, new; glorious, and spiritual world through virginity will not want to be the slave of material and temporal things. He will vow freedom by professing poverty. Also he will recognize the living Christ in the Church; and, as a rule, he will ask for a deeper association with the visible Church by dedicating himself to works of charit~ in a religious community. In this way he will share the glory of the risen Christ, and he will do the saving work of the mortal Christ. .' ' + 4- Ladislas M. Orsy, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS GEORGE B. NINTEMANN, O.P. Penance: Sacrament of Poverty Here is the message of the Amen, the faithful, the true witness, the ultimate source of God's creation: I know all ab6ut you: how you are neither hot nor cold. I wish you were one or the other, but since you are neither, but only lukewhrm, I will spit you out of my mouth. You say to yourself, "I am rich, I have made a fortune, and have everything I want," never realizing that you are wretchedly and pitiably poor, and blind and naked too. I warn you, buy from me the gold that has been tested in the fire to make you really rich, and white robes to clothe you and cover your shameful nakedness, and eye ointment to put on your eyes so that you are able to see. I am the one who reproves and.disciplines all those he loves: so repent in real earnest. Look~ I am.~standing at the dqor, knocking. If one of you hears me calling and opens the door, I will come in to share his meal, side by side with him. Those who prove victorious I will allow to share my throne, just as I was victorious myself and took my place with my Father on his throne. If anyone has ears to hear, let him listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches? What was the Spirit saying to the churches (vhen He inspired the author of Revelation to "write to the angel of the church in Laodicea"? In essence it was the spirit of the 'anawim, the spirit of poverty. "You say to yourself, 'I am rich, I have made a fortune, and have everything I want,' never realizing that you are wretchedly and pitia-bly poor, blind and naked too." Laodicea, the last of the seven Apocalyptic cities, was renowned for its wealth which made it doubly hard to practice the spirit of-pov-erty. Here is how it is described: With banks so illustrious that Cicero selected Laodicea to cash his letters of credit, with a medical school so famous as to have the names of its doctors on coins and its eye oint-ments exported throughout the Mediterranean world, with demands for its soft violet-black glossy wool giving it a steadily aAp 3:14--22 (All scriptural quotations appearing in this article are from the Jerusalem Bible unless otherwise noted). George B. Ninte-mann, O.P., writes from St. Albert's Priory; 2833 32nd Avenue South; Min-neapolis, Minnesota 55406. VOLUME 26, 1967 625 4. 4. 4. George B. Nintemann, O.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 626 growing market for tunics, a perspective for spiritual goods would easily go out of focus.~ To understand and apprecia.te tl,)e spirit of the "anawim we have but to consult the magnificent work of Father Albert Gelin, P.S.S., The Poor of Yahweh. In his [ore-word to the English translation Father Barnabas M. Ahem, C.P.,~ another authority on the 'anawim theme, has these laudable words to say: Of all that Father Gelin wrote, The Poor O] Yahweh will probably live longest in the minds of men. He here develops a theme which looms large in modern study of the spirit of the Bible. He treats of the "anawim, "the poor and needy," who rise out of the pages of the Old Testament as the true people of God. The pattern of their holiness forms the blue-print for the Scriptural portrayal of the great saints of Israel: MoseS, Samuel, Jeremiah, Anna and Judith. The voice of the 'anawim is resonant in the prayerful pleading of the songs of the Psalter. Their spirit fills the souls of the ho!y ones in the New Testament: Joseph and Mary, Zachary and Elizabeth. In the Matthean form of the Beatitudes, the "anawim model of holiness is described and codified as the ideal Ch'ris~ian character.' Father Gelin sur~marizes his study with these sigi~i~icant words: We b~ve tried to give a concrete description of this mystical lineage o{.:Israel, so anonymously eloquent in the psalter, but which also inciudes famous names like Jeremiah the author of the book of Job, and above all Mary, the lowly maid who at the threshold of the New Covenant recapitulates all the spiritual depths of the'. Old. Poverty thus understood is a modality of faith. It is abandoned, trusting and joyous, closely akin to humility~ It shows itself in an attitude of religious waiting'. Th~ beatitude of the poor in Matthew's Gospel is fo- Cused on this fundamental disposition, and its various aspects are continued in the critique of pharisaism so central in the . Gospel, as well as in the parable of the children, which is, as it were, the antithesis of this critique. These two poverties, effective poverty and spiritual poverty, are concretely connected. Historically the second is rooted in the first. As a matter of fact, to enable spiritual poverty to flourish, the Essenians bound themselves by a vow of poverty.~ And Christ confirmed what tradition had discovered. None of these biblical lessons were nor should be lost. Without pre-tending to extract from the Bible an economic treatise, we have no right to forget the social results of its religious principles. Jesus did not claim to organize the world, but he was actually speaking tomen of flesh and blood and we knox4"where His preferences led. Evangelical poverty, as He practiced it, continues in the ~William G. Heidt, O.S.B., The Book oI the Apocalypse (Col-le~ eville: Liturgical Press, 1962), p. 46. ~See Cross and Crown;~ 1959, pp. 278-91 (reprinted in Barnabas M; Ahem, C.P., New Horizons [Notre Dame: Fides, 1965], pp, 46- 61). ~ Albert Gelin, P.S.S., The Poor ol Yahweh (Collegeville: Liturgi-cal Press, 1964), p. 6. ,~ Church as an unmistakably clear sign of an understanding of His spirit.~ The sinner is truly a poor man, one who is in need of God's loving help. This loving help has merited the special word mercy. "God, be merciful to me a sinner," is the cry of this poor man. The tremendous need .which the sinner has of God:s help can be gathered from the traditional Christian pedagogy of speaking of sin in terms of death. This utter helplessness strikes us whene~er we kneel before the re-mains of a loved one. Only God could restore life to the stilled bodyI And the same is true of the one who is dead in sin; of himself he is powerless. For his revival he must become another son of Naim touched by' the love of mercy incarnate. No one seems to question the mortal sinner's need for God's mercy. But not a few seem to close their eyes to the need which all sinners have; that is, there seems to be a relu~c'tance to approach the sacrament of mercy unless one is guilty of something serious.It is hoped that a considera-tion of the sacrament of penance in .the spirit of the "anawim will brin. g about a certain reevaluation, or at least ~ome Second thoughts. Perhaps some of the i.nsensitivity to the' sacrament of penance can be traced back to a distorted notion of what a sinner really is. For some it seems that,, a sinner is synonymous with one who is guilty of sin. Th~ sense of guilt has clonded the sense of sinfulness. Could it be more than only slightly significant that the publican prayed, "God, be merciful to me a sinner," rather than, "God, be merciful to me because I have sinned?.~' The point that is trying to be made is t~ha, t although one may not be guilty of sin here and now h~ is still a sin'ner. Being a sinner is the very essence of our. human condv tion: "You know I .was born guilty, ~ Sinner from~the moment of conception" (Ps. 50). And St. John writes in his first letter: If we say we have no sin in u~, ,we are deceiving ourselves and refusing to admit the truth; but if we acknowledge our sins, then God who is faithful and just will forgive our sins and purify us from everything that is wrong. To say that we have never sinned is to call God a liar and to show that his word'is not in us." Father Louis Monden, S.J., in Sin> Liberty, and Law, has this to say regarding the sinful condition: Generally it is only when every support of" his own being falls away that man consents to abandon his reliance on self and to appeal to God in a liberating "Thou." Frequently the VOLUME 26, 1967 Ibid., pp; 111-3. 1 Jn 1:8-10. + George B. N intemann; ~ O .P . REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS brutal, humiliating shock of sin is for man the only way out of' the illusion of his complacency and the myth carefully nurtured by social conventions of his respectability and decency. But it is not the 'mere fact of sin which produces the shock, but the shattering impact of th~it fact on the illusion of virtue and irreproachability in which he was living and the ensuing awareness of sin. An awareness of sin which is at the same time the awareness of his own dereliction, the experience of his own inability to stand before God by his own power, the sense of his sinful involvement with the evil of the whole of humanity in which he is trapped, and the realization of his utter unworthiness to be loved by God. At the exact moment when he sins that awareness cannot be present. It would make sin impossible. Only detested sin, sin redressed by contrition, can feed that awareness and transform it into a conscious need for salvation and the welcoming of grace . That a man begins to feel himself more and more a sinner as be commits fewer sins is not based upon a pious exaggera-tion or illusion. It only demonstrates that sin is the lowest stage in a process of experiencing his distance from God and his unholiness in the presence of God's love which in the saint turns in a more undivided way. But this is an accepted despair which involved a total expropriation of self and a complete submersion, in the midst of one's helplessness, in the saving and sanctifying mercy of Gbd. Thus no one has been more deeply aware of the need for redemption, no one further removed from every kind of pharisaical pride, than lvlary, who was wbolly without sin. Precisely because of her spotless purity she was the most completely surrendered to God and became likewise the most fully understanding of all human dereliction, the "refuge of sinners." ~ It is worth repeating that being a sinner and being guilty of sin are not the same. One who is guilty of sin is obviously a sinner but the reverse is not necessarily true. The sinner-condition, in the wide sense in which we are thinking of it, is simply the creature-condition. What follows then is that one is in need of God's mercy not ?nly until he is washed of his sins in the sacrament of penance but until he is completely raised with Christ in glory. We ~a~re.in 'need of God's mercy until the day of final resurrecuon. The whole man, body and ;Soul, must enter into the Passover mystery. A confusion on this point seems to be evident in the way in which many penitents approach the sacrament of penance and make their accusation. Most often it is a matter of what one has done rather than what he is be-cause of what he has done. The idea seems to be prev-alent that sins are forgiven rather than the sinner. Sins seem to be looked upon as some sort of undesirable baggage which 0n~ leaves in the confessional rather than a change in one's personal relationship with his heavenly Father. And the resultant forgiveness is looked upon as the taking away of sins in the sense that one's garbage is taken away rather than the gesture of our heavenly ~ Louis Monden, S.J., Sin, Liberty, and Law (New York: Sheed and Ward, 1965), pp. 149-50. Father loving us even though we are sinful. The figure of the father in the parable of the prodigal , son imme-diately comes to mind; he,loved his son in spite of his wretchedness and with his unfaithfulness, he loved him simply because he was Iris son; he forgave and overlooked his past but he did not change it! This is God's attitude toward us in the sacrament of penance: He accepts us with our sins and sinfulness~ the very mystery of divine forgiveness. Our heavenly Father loves us simply because we~ are, His sons. The notion which we are "trying to express is closely associated with the scriptural ~notion of hamartia. Father Bernard Hiiring, C.Ss.R., explains it well: The biblical, hamartia is no~ merely the single sinful act, but also the evil condition resulting from it, the state or condition of perdition, the, evil disposition and attitude which is estrangement from God. What is dreadful is not merely the sin as an act, but the personal root, the evil disposition from which further individual sins (of course, through free consent of the will) grow. Conversion means conquest of the old man of sin, held captive by sin (this is the carnal existence, the existence through the flesh, the sarx), in order to attain a new ahd spiritual (pneumatic) form of life created and guided by the spirit of God. The convert must renounce every sin, not merely any and every sinful act, and every habitual sinful action, but first and foremost the whole mpde of his existence. His heart must be changed. He must be entirely transformed in disposition and inner attitude. Obviously man is not equal to this task if he relies on. his own resources: one who is estranged from God, far off from Him, dan be brought ,back to God only if God Himself comes to him with His grace. Hence, to turn from perdition, from the loss of God and the loss of salvation, which are inherent in the state of sin, one must unreservedly accept the dominion of God which comes to man in Christ through the spirit of God. ~ The first thing that man can contribute toward his con-version is the acknowledgement.that he has not merely done evil deeds, committed sins, but that he hirhself is evil; that he stands in need of redemption and complete spiritual trans-formation? It is no understatement to say that many Christians lack a proper understanding of sin and sinfulness. For too many of them Christ is not really seen as a Savior, at least a Savior here and now; it is more an attitude of He will sav

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 21.1 of the Review for Religious, 1962. ; Volume 1962 21 EDITORIAL OFFICE St. Mary's College St. Marys, Kansas BUSINESS OFFICE 428 E. Preston St. Baltimore 2, Maryland ASSOCIATE EDITORS Everett A. Diederich, S.J. Augustine G. Ellard, S.J. ASSISTANT EDITORS John E. Becker, S.J. Emile G. McAnany, S.J. DEPARTMENTAL EDITORS Questions and Answers Joseph F. Gallen, Woodstock College Woodstock, Maryland Book Reviews Earl A. Weis, S.J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana 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. CONGREGATION OF RELIGIOUS Extern Sisters of Monasteries of Nuns AN INSTRUCTION TOGETHER WITH STATUTES CONCERNING THE SISTERS ENGAGED IN THE EXTERNAL SERVICE OF MONASTERIES OF NUNS. TheI characteristic condition of nuns living within cloister is such that in order to safeguard their life of recol-lection, it is necessary that there be certain persons to take care of the business and affairs of the monastery outside the cloister. Accordingly, therehas never been a time when there was a lack of pious women who generally lived out-side the cloister and who were not obligated by any bonds which properly speaking could be called the bonds of re-ligious life. Such women were given the title of oblates, mandates, portresses, or some other such name. In the course of time, however, these pious women ex-pressed a desire for a more intimate participation in the life of the cloistered nuns; and in various places they were permitted to remain obligated to the external service of a monastery after making a special resolution, .promise, oath, or vow. Moregver, there were rules, constitutions, and statutes which were approved by the Holy See and which consecrated this proposal of,leading their life in a religious way. In modern times the decree of the Sacred Congregation of Religious, Conditio plurium monasteriorum, of July 16, 1931, effected and regulated this state as a stable one of sisters with simple religious vows. These sisters (see Statuta a sororibus externis monasteriorum monialium cuiusque Ordinis servanda [Statutes [or the Extern Sisters.of Monas-teries of Nuns o[ Every Oi'der], n. 4) were declared to be "members of the community they serve and participants in the same spiritual goods as the nuns." In order, how-ever, that the juridical incorporation of the sisters into the community should not endanger the contemplative life of ¯ The original text of this document appeared in Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 53 (1961), pp. 371-80. Extern Sisters VOLUME 21~ 1962 1 4" ÷ Congregation oy Religious REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS the nuns, a general norm was laid down according to which the sisters were to live in. a part of the monastery outside of papal cloister. The experience, however, of the last thirty years has clearly shown that a number of things in the Statutes of 1931 need to be modified by adapting them to more recent pontifical documents concerning the life of nuns, by omit-ting certain prescriptions of common law already included in the constitutions of nuns, and by accommodating them more closely to the tules and constitutions of the second Order to which the sisters belong. Accordingly, the Sacred Congregation of Religious has decided to make a new, shorter, but complete edition of the previously mentioned Statutes. The following points, however, are to be noted. 1. Monasteries of nuns which do.not have sisters for ex-ternal. service and do not need them since the external ser-vice of the monastery is taken care of by secular persons of known worth who have been chosen with the consent of the lbcal ordinary and who live outside of cloister are not obliged to inaugurate this class of sisters. 2. Where the rules or constitutions of a given order ex-pressly prescribe and regulate the external service 6f sisters for a monastery of nuns, the canonical dispositions by which this service is governed retain their full force, pro-vided they are not contrary to the sacred canons nor to the apostolic konstitution, Sponsa Christi. 3.If for the sake of better preserving the spirit of their own foundation and vocation the nuns of an Order wish to insert into their own constitutions special dispositions for the external service of the monastery, they are free to draw up such dispositions, which, however, are to be sub-mitted for the approbation of the Sacred Congregation of Religious. Afer a similar approbation by the same congregation, such prescriptions may also be inserted into the statutes of those federations erected by the Holy See which preserve within the same Order a somewhat diversified practice of regular observance. HOwever, the prescriptions to be added either to the constitutions or to the statutes of the federation according to the nature of the Order are to be conformed to the following gen.eral statutes. Chapter 1: On the Duties and Place of Residence o[ Sisters Devoted to External Service ARTICLE I § I. With the consent of the chapter and with the ap-proval of the local ordinary as well as that of the regular superior if they are subject to one, monasteries of nuns may make provisions for sisters destined for external ser-vice whose principal duty will be to serve the monastery in those external matters which can not be cared for by the cloistered members. § 2. Moderate works of the apostolate connected with the monastery but performed outside papal cloister may be considered as part of the external service, to.which~ the sisters are destined. ~ "'~ ~ , :~'~, ARTICLE 2 The extern sisters are members of the community of their monastery, and in the orderof precedence come after the choir nuns and the lay sisters (conversaq);. they profess the same rule and constitutions as their fellow religious the nuns, but by reason of their proper office they are sub-ject to the present statutes which repeal some prescriptions of the rule and the constitutions. § 1. Without prejudice to article 4, the extern sisters have a residence which is annexed to the monastery and which is subject to common cloister (see canon 604 and the instruction Inter cetera, n. 73), though not within the limits of the papal cloister of the nuns (see the instruction, Inter cetera, n. 11 b; 44 b). Accordingly, they may not enter the part of the monastery reserved for the nuns except in accordance with the provisions made in these statutes. § 2. Without prejudice to the stricter law of individual monasteries, the superior with the consent of her council and with the approbation of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, has the right to permit the extern sisters to meet at times with the nuns inside the cloister of the monastery for sake of piety or instruction as well as for eating and recreating together, care' being taken that nothing detrimental follows from this. At these times, the sisters, even though they should be questioned impru-dently, should refrain from referring to things they have sebn or heard outside the monastery; they should especially keep silent about matters which do not set a good.'bxample or which can disturb peace ~nd application 6f mind. The superior with her councilors should watch over these mat-ters; and if the entrance of the sisters into the monastery furnishes the occasion for abuses, suitable remedies should be used. § 3. In accordance with the, judgment of the superior and her council together with a previous and at least a general approbation of the local ordinary and of the regu-lar superior if there be one, the sisters living outside the cloister may at times be used for the internal dut'ies of the monastery, care being .taken that they do not habitually associate with the nuns. § 4. What is said in this article about the entrance of the ÷ 4- + Exterrt Sisters VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ ÷ Congregation o~ Religious REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 4 sisters into cloister holds as well for postulants and for novices of the second year of novitiate. ARTICLE § 1. Attention being given to the spirit and nature of each order as well as to the number of nuns living in a monastery, monasteries, after a previous vote of the chap. ter and, in the case of monasteries belonging to a federa-tion, after hearing the council Of the federation, may with the approbation of the Holy See permit the extern sisters to be habitually within the limits of the cloister of the monastery, even though they are not bound by the law of papal cloister. In this case precautions should be taken that such association of the sisters with the nuns bound by the law of cloister does not harm the spirit of recollection; besides other precautions, a kind of separation should be instituted within the cloister similar to that prescribed for the novitiate (canon 564, § 1), and the sisters should be forbidden to relate to the nuns the things that happen outside of cloister. § 2. Since they are not bound by the law of papal clois-ter, sisters who habitually live within the cloister, may, ac-cording to the jud .gment of the superior, leave the cloister for the external service or work of the monastery or for another just and reasonable cause. Without violation of the discipline and the purpose of the postulancy and the novitiate (canon 565), the same provision holds also for novices even 'of the first year of the novitiate and for the postulants, if the postulancy, accord-ing to the norm of article 9, § 2, is made within the clois-ter. ARTICLE The residence and other places outside the limits of cloister destined for the extern si~ters are subject to the vigilance and visitation not only of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, but also, due pre-scriptions being observed, of the superior of the monastery and of the moderator of the federation in the case of fed-erated monasteries (see the instruction, Inter cetera, n. 24, 5°). ARTICLE § 1. In order that works of the apostolate be exercised in monasteries in a stable way according to the norm of article 1, § 2, besides the previous approval of the local or-dinary and of the regular superior if there be one, the ap-probation of the Holy See is required. § 2. In exercising the works of the apostolate, the sisters should follow the norms set down by the local ordinary. ARTICLE 7 § 1. The habit of the sisters should be the same as that of the nuns, suitably accommodated, however, by the chap-ter to the purpose of external service according to the circumstances of time and place. : . ~ § 2. With regard to'th~ ~eii~s :habit in of one and the same ~ederation, the sisters, as far as pos-sible, should be dressed in the same way. Chapter 2: On the Training o[ Extern Sisters Aa'rIcL~ 8 In admitting and forming extern sisters, the same con-ditions should be observed as those prescribed in the con-stitution~ for the nuns of the monastery, account being ~aken, however, o~ the former's special role. The superior with her council should see to it that only those asp.irants are accepted who are mature in judgment and conspicuous for more than ordinary piety, in order that in their deal-ings with seculars, especially outside the monastery, they may give an outstanding example. Ax~cL~ 9 § 1. The postulancy should last one year; the superior, however, having heard her council, may reduce this time to six months or prolong it for another six months beyond the year, according as seems necessary for the fitting prepa-ration. of a postulant for the novitiate. § 2. The postulancy should be made in the residence of the sisters in order that the postulants may be exercised and tested in their proper duties. Nevertheless, in accordance with the judgment of the superior and her council and with the approval of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, the postulancy can be made within the monastery; that is, within the cloister of the nuns, without prejudice, how-ever, to the statutes of the federation if it is the case, of a federated monastery nor to article 4, § 2. ARTICLE 10 § 1~ The novitiate is to last for two years. The first of these years is strictly canonical; and although these novices are not bound by the law of papal cloister, it is to be made together with the novices within the cloister of each mon-astery or, if it is a case of a federation, of another monas-tery of the federation. This year, in order to be valid, mus, t be whole and continuous according to tile norms of law. § 2. In order that the novices be exercised in their proper works, the second year of the novitiate should be made in the proper residence of the sisters under the vigi, lance of a specially designated sister who is to givea report E~tern Sisters VOLUME ~'1, 1962 5 lllll! I ÷ .t- ongregation ot l~liglous REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 6 to the mistress of novices. Two months before profession, the novices should refrain completely from external ser-vice and remain within the novitiate of the monastery in order that there under the direction of the mistress of novices they may be able to prepare themselves more tran-quilly for profession. § 3. In accordance with the judgment of the superior and her council and with the approval of the local or-dinary and of the regular superior if there be one, this second year also can be made within the monastery with-out, however, the novices being bound by papal cloister. § 4. In training the novices in religious life, while in-structions and conferences are to be given in the same way as is prescribed in the constitutions for the novitiate of nuns, special care should be taken to give them instruc-tions in the external matters and affairs for which they are destined. A~T~CLE 11 The novitiate made by extern sisters is not valid for choir nuns or for lay sisters (conversis); nor is the novitiate made for choir nuns or for lay sisters valid for extern sis-ters. ARTICLE 12 § 1. On the completion of the novitiate, the novice should make a profession of simple temporary vows for six years; these should be renewed yearly, at least during the first three-year period. At the end of the six years, they should make a profession of simple, but perpetual vows or return to the world. § 2. In making the profession the rite of each monastery should be retained with necessary changes, however, being made. The first religious profession following the novitiate is to be made by 'the sisters within the cloister of the mon-astery; the renovations of vows, as well as the perpetual profession, should be made outside of cloister at the choir grille of the nuns. However, in accordance with the judg-ment of the superior and her council and with the ap-proval of the local ordinary and of the regular supe~-ior it there be one, these may be made within the cloister. § 8. The formula of' profession should be the same as that of the nuns with the necessary additions and changes; for each profession of the sisters should be made in the quality of an extern sister according to the rule and con-stitutions of the monastery as well as according to the proper statutes for extern sisters approved by the Apostolic See. § 1. Without prejudice to the prescriptions of the con-stitutions concerning the cession of administration and the disposition of the use and usufruct of property, according to the norm of the common law (canon 569, §'1 and canon 580, § 1) every professed of simple vows, whether perpetual or temporary, unless something else is provided for in the constitutions, retains the ownership of her prop-erty and the capacity of.~acqu~rlng.~other 'property:- Lest, however, the extern sisters be solicitous about their prop-erty, even before their profession of temporary vows they should freely make a civilly valid will with regard to pres-ent property as well as to whatever may come to them in the future. They may not change this without the permis-siqn of the Holy See or, if the matter is urgent and there is no time for recourse to the Holy See, without the permis-sion of the superior of the monastery i~ which the sister is a, ctually living. § 2. Without prejudice to any ivtdult granted by the Holy See, the sisters can not renounce their property or abdicate it gratuitously. § 3. The cession or disposition which is treated in canon 569 can be changed by a professed sister not indeed by her own personal decision unless the constitutions allow this, but with the permission of her superior as well as of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, pro.vided a change which involves a notable part of her property is not made in favor of the monastery. In case of departure from the monastery this cession and disposition lose their force. § 4. Whatever the sister acquires by her own industry or by reason of the monastery, she acquires for the monas-tery. Chapter 3: On the Discipline of the Extern Sisters ARTICLE 14 § 1. The sisters, no less than the nuns, are subject to the superior of the monastery in all things, both with regard to religious discipline and to the service to be done by them. It is the duty of~ the superior to prescribe the habitual order of their exercises for the sisters and to provide in a maternal way whatever is necessary for them to lead their common and individual lives. § 2. The superior can delegate one 6f the extern sisters or a nun mature in prudence and age and professed of perpetual vows to watch that everything pertaining to discipline or service is carried out in an orderly way ac-cording to the commands of the superior. This sister should prudently make what reports are necessary to the superior or to some other nun designated for this and should receive instructions from her. ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ ÷ Congregation Religious REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 8 ARTICLE 15, § I. The superior should see to it that the extern sisters perform the exercises of piety which are. contained in the rule and constitutions except those which are proper to the choir nuns: § 2. With regard to Holy Communion and to confession, the prescriptions contained in the constitutions for the nuns should be observed. § 3. With regard to occasional confessions, the sisters enjoy the faculties .which are granted to religious women not bound by papal cloister; namely, if a sister for peace of conscience goes to a confessor approved for women by the local ordinary, the confession is valid and licit, when made in a church or an oratory even a semi-public one or in any other place legitimately destined for the confessions of women or of religious women or legitimately designated as such for a particular confession (see canon 522). § 4. With the consent of the superior and the approval of the local ordinary'and of the regular superior if there be one, the spiritual exercises mentioned ih § 1 may be made by the extern sisters inside the cloister of the nuns. ARTICLE 16 As far as possible, the duties of piety treated in the pre-ceding article should be made by the sisters in common. The sisters should also eat and recreate in common. ARTICLE 17 With regard to the laws of abstinence and fast proper to each Order by reason of the rule and the constitutions, the superior should treat the extern sisters mategnally, dispens-ing in these matters insofar as there is real need. It is de-sirable that in each Order or at least in each federation there be set up the same norm for the observance by the sisters of such proper laws. ARTICLE 18 § 1. The sisters should remain at home, diligently en-gaging in prayer and work; and they should not go outside except to care for the business of the monastery or for some other reasonable cause and with the express per-mission of the superior; nor should they leave the house singly without a just cause and the permission of the su-perior. When they go.out, they should be mindful of their state in their conduct and speech with seculars; and by manifesting modesty, piety, meekness, urbanity, and the greatest reverence, they should be a source of edification to all. § 2. The superior may not permit the sisters to live out-side the house except for a just cause and for as short a time as possible; for an absence which exceeds a month there is required the permission of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one; for an absence, moreover, which lasts beyond six months, the permission of the Apostolic See is necessary. ARTICLE 19 § 1. A sick sister who, in the judgment of the physician or the superior, can not be conveniently cared for in the external residence, may be brought into cloister; and her cloistered fellow religious should take care of her with the greatest charity, offering their help kindly and solicitously. § 2. In the same way, aged sisters who ha~;e become in-capable of external service and who lack suitable assistance in the external residence may, with the permission of the superior to be granted with the consent of the council and with the approval of the local ordinary and of the regular superior if there be one, be admitted into the monastery. § 3. The superior, however, should be vigilant lest on this occasion the discipline of the nuns, especially the spirit of recollection which should always flourish within the cloister, should suffer harm. The matter having been taken up with His Holiness John XXIII in an audience granted to His Eminence the cardinal prefect on March 1, 1961, the Sacred Congrega-tion of Religious in accordance with the commission given it by the apostolic constitution, Sponsa Christi, of Novem-ber 21, 1950 (Acta Apostolicae Sedis, v. 43. [1951], p. 5) and by reason of the powers conferred on it, prescribes and commands that the present norms and statutes concerning the extern sisters of monasteries be put into observa-tion. All contrary matters notwithstanding. Given at Rome, March 25, 1961. VALERIUS Cardinal VALERI, Prefect L.~S. Paul Philippe, O.P., Secretary + 4- + Extern Si~ter$ VOLUME 21, 1962 9 MSGR. AGOSTINO CASAROLI Papal Plan for Latin America Msgr. Casaroli rep-resented the Ponti-ficihl Commission for Latin America at the Second Na-tional Congress of Religious. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 10 It is indeed an honor and a privilege for me to bring you distinguished members of this great assembly1, the cordial greetings, the thanks, and the good wishes of the Pontifical Commission for Latin America. When the Holy See was informed that the Congress of the Major Religious Superiors of the United States was to consider the problems confronting the Church in Latin America as part of its program of studies and delibera-tions, Archbishop Samore, Vice-President of the Pontifical Commission and Secretary of the Sacred Congregation for Extraordinary Ecclesiastical Affairs, was designated to rep-resent the Commission at this gathering and to speak to you of the struggles, of the desires, and of the hopes of the Church in those countries. Undoubtedly Archbishop Samore was the person most qualified to accomplish this mandate, not only because of the prestige of his office in the Church, but particularly be-cause of the deep knowledge he has of questions concei:n-ing all the facets and perspectives of the situation in Latin America where he spent three years as Apostolic Nuncio to Colombia. Moreover, Archbishop Samore also knows the great generosity and the resources of the Church in the United States where he spent some years at the Apostolic Delegation in Washington. But above all, his passionate and unstinting dedication to the cause of the Church in Latin America, which for many years has been one of the main concerns of his life, would have made him, perhaps, the best informed and most authoritative speaker at this convention on that subject. Unfortunately, recent sorrowful events have prevented him from being present here for a task that he considered as a mission to be accomplished for the Church itself. Since I am not in a position to speak with his eloquence 1 This is the text of a speech delivered by Msgr. Casaroli at the Second National Congress of Religious on August 17, 1961. and his personal authority, I shall limit myself to submit-ting briefly for your consideration some objective facts and remarks. Their compelling eloque.nce together with the heartrending appeals of the Popes in favor of Latin Amer-ica will, I am confident, lead you to adopt positive resolu-tions such as the Holy See eagerly expects, from~this as-sembly and from the magnificent group of thousands of men and women religious you represent. The appeal of the Holy See in favor of Latin America is fundamentally based on two considerations to which no true son of the Church, much less religious men and women, can remain indifferent. First, that duty of charity by which the family, the Body, which constitutes the Catholic Church, feels as its own the problems and needs Of each of its parts; all the more so when such needs and problems are more serious and the part of the Church affected hy them is more important. Second, the interest--in the highest and noblest sense of the word---of the entire Catholic Church, since weakness of or dangers to Christian life in such an important sector of the Church, as undoubtedly Latin America is, repre-sents for it a serious menace, while progress there repre-sents a bright promise. Here are a few facts to support these two propositions: 1. The importance of Latin America to the Church; first of all, its numerical importance, since, with about one hundred and eighty million inhabitants, the over-whelming majority of them Catholic, Latin America rep-resents about a third of world Catholicism in numbers. Moreover, the demographic increase of Latin Americam noted, not always without alarm, by sociologists, econo-mists, and political experts--together with the fact that children are traditionally baptized in the Church of their parents even if the latter are not practical churchgoers, would seem to indicate that such increase will augment proportionally in the future. Secondly, an importance arising from the fact that the twenty nations of Latin America, frequently acting en bloc, exercise in international assemblies--which often treat of principles and questions of vital interest to the Churchma very considerable influence. A third motive of importance is the richness of Latin- American Catholicism--although still rather potential than actual--both in quantity and quality, with the con-sequences deriving therefrom for the future development of Catholicism and its spread throughout the world. 2. This sector of Catholicismwimposing as it is both in numbers and unity, in sincerity and solidity of senti-ment, so heroic in times of persecution, so strongly resist-ing internal insufficiencies and dangers from without~ yet surfer's from perilous elemental weaknesses of structure. ÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUME 21, 1962 ]! ÷ ÷ ÷ Msgr. Casaroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ]~ Characteristically, these weaknesses are manifested and in a way summarized by the well-known lack of clergy, and indeed of all apostolic workers, in Latin America; a lack which is at the same time the cause and the result of the dangerous situation there, aggravated by the greater menace of the enemies of Catholicism in those countries. Such enemies and such menaces are particularly--as Pope Pius XII declared to the Second World Congress of the Apostolate of the Laity.in October, 1957--"the inroads of Protestant sects; the secularization of .the whole way of life; Marxism, the influence of which is felt in the uni-versities and is very active, even dominant, in almost all labor organizations; and finally a disquieting practice of spiritism." This list, we might add, is only indicative. 3. Faced with this situation, and foreseeing its future developments, some people, pessimists who lack confi-dence in Divine Providence and the Church's supernat-ural resources and who very often are not objective in observing and judging things as they are in reality, even wonder whether in a few decades Latin America will still be a Catholic continent or if it will not rather be com-pletely lost to the Church. The Holy See does not at all share such pessimistic views. On the other hand, the Holy See does not ignore the danger there might be, if oppor-tune measures are not taken or if they are not taken suffi-ciently urgently. The mere possibility that even part of a continent hold-ing such an important place in the Church could be lost to her is more than enough motive to excite in her chil-dren, and particularly in you religious that feeling of dutiful charity and interest mentioned above. 4. In contrast with these deprecable and deprecated possibilities, there shine forth the luminous prospects em-phasized with such eloquence and paternal satisfaction by the Sovereign Pontiffs when speaking of Latin America; but always on condition that the necessary efforts and sac-rifices be made now, with wise generosity and without delay. His Holiness Pope John XXIII, speaking on March 25, 1960, to the Fathers and Mothers General of Institutes of Perfection, asserted: The future of the Church in the vast territories of Latin America appears rich in ineffable promise; and We nourish the firm conviction that Catholic spirit and life :in those regions have in themselves sufficient strength to encourage the most optimistic hopes for the future. Those treasures Of spiritual wealth so profusely bestowed there in the past, and yet more those which will be given with full hands in the future, will .surely give rise to rich fruits of holiness and grace, to the greater joy of the Chui'ch of God. Earlier still, Pope'Pius XII had affirmed with prophetic confidence: renWdeer earde b caocnkf iad ethnot uthsaatn tdhfeo lbdeln Tefhietsr en owwil lr eccoemivee dth we idlla yla wterh ebne Latin America will be able to give back to the entire Church Christ all that it has received; when, as We hope, it shall have put to use those ample and powerful energies which seem only to await the hands of the pr rhieis t, that they may at once be employed for the honor and wo.s P.~o;~f Gx.ozd:., 'a~n;d~,l ;t~h et '~ spread; of Christ's ,~t~r :~l~'b6iesiarn Kingdom on earth (P~us Ch'risti, 1955). ¯ Hence, the conclusions to be drawn ~rom these con-siderations, which could anal sh6uld be developed at greater length, are the ~ollowing: First, the Church~that ~is, all o~ us who, with the Pope, the Bishops and our brothers in the Faith, constitute the Church~has the duty o~ collaboration so that not even a small part o~ that precious heritage o~ the Catholic religion which is Latin America should be lost; second, that the Church has the sacred duty o~ aiding those apostolic ~orces, mostly still latent in Latin-American Catholicism, to activate them-selves, so that their strong support may be.relied upon to engage with high hopes o~ success in the great adventure o~ the conquest o[ the world to the.truth o~ the [aith and to the beauties o[Ghristian living. What is the Church doing, what is the Holy See doing, in regard to the religious problem o~ Latin America? It ¯ would take too long to answer exhaustively or even sum-marily; a ~ew indications are all we can give. First o[ all, it must be said that Latin-American Cathol-icism~ bishops, clergy, religious and ~aith[ul~is reso-lutely working tc~ break the -vicious circle in which it seems to be imprisoned. Good results have been and are being obtained, admirable, praiseworthy, ~ull o~ promise ~or the ~uture. We must also, with all [raternal charity, but also with necessary objectivity, add that the disproportion between the available means, especially o~ personnel, and the ever-growing gravity o[ the tasks to accomplish and the perils to avert is so great, that humanly speaking it would seem impossible, or at least extremely difficult, ~or Latin-Amer-ican Catholicism to be able, unaided, to overcome this critical situation in time. The work o~ the Holy See then, especially in most re-cent times, has been exercised in a two~old effort: (a) that o~ encouraging, aiding and promoting the initiative o~ the Latin-American hierarchy, clergy, religious institutes, and laity; and (b) that o~ encouraging, requesting and discovering collaboration therein ~rom other ~parts o~ the great Catholic ~amily. Regarding the first point, and apart ~rom what concerns the single dioceses or nations, I shall only recall the con-vocation o~ a General Conference o~ the Latin-American Episcopate in Rio de Janeiro in the year 1955 in order to VOLUME ÷ ÷ Msgr. Casaroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 14 study the problem together and lay the bases for a vigor- .ous collective effort; then the constitution in 1956 of a permanent office for contact and collaboration between the hierarchies of the various Latin-American countries, called the Latin-American Episcopal Council (CELAM), with its General Secretariat located in Bogat~; and con-sequently the establishment of the Latin-American Reli-gious Conference (CL-AR) in 1958. Passing to the second point, and omitting for brevity's sake anyreference to the collaboration furnished by Spain, Belgium, and other European countries, I shall recall only the meeting held in Washington, D. C., in November, 1959, between representatives of the hierarchies of the United States of America and Canada, and of Latin America, which prepared the foundations of a more in-tense and more closely organized apostolic cooperation of the two great North American nations in favor of those nations situated south of the Rio Grande. As a matter of fact, the Holy See has very great con-fidence, as regards a concerted "Catholic Action" in f.avor of Latin America, in the resources and the generosity of the Catholics of the United States and of Canada, that is to say, concretely, of the bishops, priests, and men and women religious. It is clear that, first of all and above all, this refers to resources of personnel, o~ men and women. In fact, this is the whole purpose of the presence among you of the Pontifical Commission for Latin America in my humble person; namely, to tell you how greatly the Holy See and the Pontifical Commission count upon the understanding and generosity of your religious institutes to aid Latin America; to urge you to respond heartily to its pressing appeal for this work, which the Holy See con-siders essential for the general interests of the Church; and, if necessary, to work together with you to prepare a plan of assistance according to the desires expressed by the Holy See. Of course, the Holy See is quite well aware of all that American religious communities--with their approxi-mately 2,700 members who are now in Latin America-- are already doing in this sense. Their spirit of helpfulness and collaboration has been admirably proven, and the Holy See is sincerely and deeply grateful. But the need is felt to request yet more from your generosity, just as more is being asked also from the generosity of other parts o[ the Church in favor of Latin America. Among the papers which Archbishop Samore had pre-pared for this meeting, I have found a reference to some possible objections, and I quote his own words in this re-gard: It may be objected:First, that just as numerous needs require your presence here in your own country: And I reply:This is true. You do great good here, and yet, in spite of your great numbers, there are not enough of you to meet the evergrowing exigencies of the modern apostolate. But it is also true that in comparison you are much more numerous in proportion to total Catholic population than your confreres in :Latin America. In the United States, for a total Catholic population of about 41,000,000 souls, you had in 1960 more than 21,000 i-eligious priests, 10,000 religious brothers ~rid 170,000 religi0iJs- 'si~ters. Certainly, for the more or less one hundred and eighty mil-lions of Catholics of Latin-America--a total more than four times greater than yours---we are very far from your total num-ber of more than 200,000 members of religious communities and institutes of perfection. You can see how great is the dispropor-tion. You, then, are rich, rich in personnel. And it is from you that personnel is Sought, in the confidence that the Lord will reward you for the generosity with which you give, by sending you ever more numerous vocations.Indeed, I know of particular cases in which, after the acceptance by a particular congregation, for a supernatural motive and at the cost of no little sacrifice, of new fields of apostolic endeavor, their vocations were actually muhi-plied in a geometrical progression. Thus once more the word of the Gospel was verified:Give and it will be given to you, good measure, pressed down, shaken together and flowing over . Second, it may be objected that you are already answering the appeal made in favor of other continents. This too is true. And here too you deserve the highest admiration for what you are doing. But it remains true that we ask from him who has. Be sure I shall never say:Go to Latin America rather than to other countries; I should be guilty of a serious fault and would feel remorse for it. But I do venture to say:Go, even more than you do now, in even greater numbers, to Latin America, without diminishing your efforts and your contribution in favor of other parts of the earth. These are the words of Archbishop Samore; and I be-lieve they remain valid and convincing. And thus we may pass on to the third and last point to consider; namely, what aid does the Holy See expect for Latin America from the religious communities of men and women of the United States, over and above that assistance already being given. I spoke earlier of a "plan"--a popular word nowadays, but truly appropriate in our case. That which the Ghurch feels it necessary to do for Latin America cannot be done through isolated and uncoordinated efforts, no matter how numerous or immediately efficacious they might be. The field is so vast, the urgency so great, and the danger of being circumvented, by enemy forces so real, that all such efforts must be added together, properly channeled, opportunely coordinated, and organically promoted. We could even speak of a real apostolic strategy, to assemble every possible° means, (which resuh always in less than those needed), so that none is lost, none underutilized; to determine the fundamental points of attack and defense; and to concentrate there a common effort so that, by God's grace, action may be prompt, timely, and effective. ÷ ÷ ÷ Latin America VOLUME 21, 1962 15 Msgr. Ca~aroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 16 We all recall that His Holiness Pope John XXIII, in, his discourse' to thos.e.attending the third meeting of the' CELAM in Rome, spoke of the opportuneness of setting up a double program for Latin America: a long-term program to solve the basic problems; and an immediate short-term one. Th~ basic solution would be that Latin America succeed in being self-sufficient for its own needs and, we may add, capable also of givi~ng a full and valu-able contribution towards the progress of the universal Church. The collaboration of outside forces should also be aimed towards this end; although immediate needs and exigencies must not be forgotten or neglected, nor yet be given precedence over the long-term basic solution. On its side, the Holy See saw to the establishmeni in 1958 of a "high command" for this effort; namely, the Pontifical Commission for Latin America, which has the duty of "studying in a unified way the fundamental prob-lems of Catholic life in Latin America, and to promote the closest collaboration between the various sacred con-gregations and offices interested in their solution." In their own respective spheres and ranks, the CELAM and CLAR have analagous purposes and aims. On its part, the hierarchy of the United States of America has set up in the National Catholic Welfare Conference a Latin America Bureau (LAB), with. a dynamic and ex-perienced director in the person of Father John J: Con-sidine, M.M. In order the better to coordinate the collaboration re-quested of your communities, it might appear opportune to instruct the Secretariats of your two Conferences to act directly or in cooperation with this Latin America Bureau as the circumstances dictate. In any case, the offices already set up~--together with the Pontifical representatives in the various countriesm can doubtless favor the study and effective realization of an opportune plan. In particular, it becomes possible to coordinate the requests of the ordinaries of each single country, so that the Pontifical Commission for Latin America can consider and evaluate their priority of im-portance and urgency, and recommend them to those or-ganizations or religious communities best ableto ~ope with them. In order that such a plan be realistic, it is of course necessary to know and study, not only the requests pre-sented, but also the means available to meet them. For this reason, the Pontifical Commission would be most greafful to this assembly if, on its part, it were to prepare at least the fundamental lines of a plan of its own. Such a plan should manifest approximately what means and personnel they will place at the disposal of the Holy See and the Pontifical Commission from the men and women religious of the United States of America. Archbishop Samore, in the name of'the Pontifical Com-mission, intended to propose to you a great Ten-Year Plan o[ aid to Latin America, by means of personnel and of foundations, thus corresp6iading to the.needs and requests already received and listed by the Latin America Bureau, and to those which will arrive later. The archbishop's personal knowledge of the generosity of American religous communities, confirmed by their actual contribution in so many diverse fields, encouraged him to make this pro-posal, which I now submit to you in the name of the Pontifical Commission: A Ten-Year Plan: for the decade of the 1960's whiEh may be decisive for the destiny of Latin America even in religious matters, with all the consequences for the Church either for good or evil. If an extraordinarily generous and wise effort is made within those ten years, we have every reason to expect that, with God's help, the battle will be won. A Great Plan: great on the part of the Holy See, of Latin America, and of the Church in general. Great, so the Holy See-hopes, in the contribution of the North American nations, so closely linked to those of Latin America. And great also on your part. This, then, is an appeal to the magnanimity of your communities, and presupposes generosity, self-sacrifice, lofty ideas and great love, love for the Church of Christ, love for God. The concrete content and scope of such a plan is some-thing you must be so kind as to study together among yourselves. Certainly, immense progress would already be made if every community represented here were formally to un-dertake to make, especially during the next ten years, a truly generous contribution of personnel and foundations in favor of the Church in Latin America. Naturally this should be a contribution within the limits of each com-munity's abilities, but also to the extent of your possibil-ities, measured in a great spirit of generosity, sacrifice, and love for the Church, and also measured against the re-quests presented in a plan organized and coordinated by the competent offices. A plan such as this would comprise several divisions, just a few of which we may briefly review: a) direct pastoral ministry, either in parishes, or in groups of parishes such as a deanery, or occasionally in entire ecclesiastical jurisdictions such as Prelatures Nul-lius, Vicariates, and Prefectures Apostolic; b) seminaries; c) educational activities, particularly the foundation of Latin America 17 4. 4. 4. Msgr. Casaroli REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 18 American schools, which are so necessary and so strongly desired in Latin America, in a special manner in order to combat the perilous propaganda spread by such schools directed by Protestant sects; d) catechetical activities; e) charitable activities, health programs, social service. This list is merely partial and indicative; but I feel that each of the communities repre~en.ted here today can al-ready see the part it could play therein, either to begin its apostolate in Latin America or to enlarge and intensify those works that several have already undertaken there. Is it worth while making more precise engagements? Is it opportune for each community to determine now a cer-tain percentage of its personnel which will be set aside for the service of the Church in Latin America? The judgment and the decision is left to you. However, interpreting the mind of the Pontifical Commission, I offer you an ideal toward which we reque.st every province to strive. This ideal is the following, namely, that each religious province aim to contribute to Latin America in the next ten years a tithe--ten percent--0f its present membership as of this current year. For example, if the present membership is 500, the ideal would be to con-tribute by the end of this decade fifty members for Latin America. Naturally, all will not be able to achieve this ideal. But it may be possible to reach at least ninety or eighty .per cent of it. For myself, I should like to add one further considera-tion: In no case, should personnel of what might be called inferior quality be set.aside for this work. The Church's cause in Latin America requires that your communities make the sacrifice and have the generosity to devote to it some of the best and most qualified of the vocations sent to them by the Lord. To you, and to the committee you will elect to consider and study this point of your program, let us leave the task of moving forward. The saintly and fatherly Pastor, whom God has set over His Church in our day, when speaking to the Superiors General of the Institutes of Perfection on March 25, 1960, said, "It is necessary that all those who wish to share in the Apostolic anxiety of Our heart, should make every effort and every sacrifice to meet the expectations of that great continent, Latin America." With that prayer, the Holy Father includes his gratitude and his benediction upon all those of his children who give a generous response. COLUMBAN BROWNING, C.P. Woman's Highest Fulfillment Every year hundreds of young women leave behind them family, friends, and the natural joys that might be theirs and enter the religious life. And every year hun-dreds of women go to their eternal reward after having lived their years in the service of God and their fellow man in religion. This vast army of generous women is one of the glories of Mother Church and one of the most con-vincing proofs of her divinity. Such generosity on so large a scale can find its explanation only in the grace of God that leads these women in their youth to the religious state and enables them to persevere in it until death. The world instinctively admires these many women who live their lives in so unselfish a fashion. A religious reception or profession ceremony fills the standers-by with awe and admiration, and they feel instinctively that there is something of God in what they witness. And indeed there is. A religious vocation and the response to that call is always the work of God. What many admiring idealists fail to realize is that the path the young religious enters upon is not an easy one. They admire the generosity of the young woman, but they are no( sufficiently aware of what that generosity costs her. In the practical order, these admirers fail to grasp how really human the young religious is and remains. An ele-ment of "angelism" pervades the thoughts of many out-siders about religious. This attitude is a tribute to the holi-ness of life that has produced it, but it still fails to grasp the genuine heroism of the religious. The young woman who enters religion is just as truly human and as fully a woman as are her classmates who enter the married state. Entering religion means that a young woman surrenders herself to God, making the com-plete gift of her entire self to Him. The greatest offering she makes is that of her womanhood itself, sublimating all her womanly instincts and ambitions to higher ends and 4. 4. 4- Columban Brown-ing. C.P., is the Rec-tor of St. Gabriel Monastery, 1100 63rd Street, Des Moines 11. Iowa. VOLUME 21, 1962 ]9 Columban Browning, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 20 purposes. It is precisely in this sacrifice of the natural for the supernatural that the greatest heroism is required, a heroism that cannot exist without the grace of God. And the greatest challenge that the religious faces is how to find in this sublimation the happiness and fulfilment of her deepest womanly aspirations. Because this matter is so.vital to the religious life and because understandably some religious meet with practi-cal difficulties in meeting this challenge, it requires and deserves a proper understanding of the factors involved. In this artidle we shall endeavour to discuss this problem and seek a practical solution to help religious meet the challenge. Factors of the Problem Understanding this problem requires asa starting point an appreciation of woman's nature itself. A full analysis of woman's nature could, of course, require volnmes. But let us here review only briefly the basic characteristics of woman. We can best understand woman's nature by considering it from the point of view of God's plan and purpose. And when we look for God's plan and.purpose we find the key to that plan in the fact that He has given her the body, the mind, and the heart of a mother. Pius XII high-lighted this fact when he said: Every woman is destined to be a mother; a mother in the physical sense of the word, or in a more spiritual and higher but no less real meaning. The Creator has disposed to this end the entire being of woman, her organism, and even more her spirit, and above all her exquisite sensibility. So that a woman cannot see and fully understand all the problems of human life otherwise than under the family aspect (Duties oI Woman in the Social and Political Order, Oct. 21, 1945). Woman is physically prepared for motherhood. She is also psychologically and emotionally disposed for it to the extent that motherhood is the most basic specific craving of a normal woman. Furthermore, she is altrocentric by nature, seeking her fulfillment in another whom she loves and by whom she wants to be loved. It is this that leads a woman to seek a husband and that qualifies her to bestow her undivided love on the child that is the fruit of her motherhood. Since motherhood is the basic orientation of her nature, it is not difficult to single out what is the most character-istic virtue of woman. It is the virtue that makes her motherhood possible and fruitful, the virtue of love. Her heart is filled with a mother's supply of love, and it is a love that must be given in some way. The ordinary young woman finds the object of this love in her husband and her children. In bestowing this love she finds her deepest fulfillment. Woman has by nature other characteristic virtues, of course. But without enumerating them let us merely say here that in her all the other virtues are the servants of love. In a woman who understands her nature propdrly and tries to practice intelligent!y.the vir~tue of love, all the other virtues will follow in due "bi-ddr. Withbt, t that,love at the center of things, the other virtues will also be im-possible to her. This is, in summary, the basic'pattern~of~woman's na-ture as planned by God. This nature is possessed by every normal woman and it is the thing that determines her thinking, her instincts, and her manner of acting. It is easy to see how a woman finds the normal fulfillment of her nature in an ideal marriage. The married woman finds in her husband someone to love and by whom to be loved. In her marriage there: is a complete giving of her-self and sharing of her love, including the physical shar-ing and giving that begets children. In her child, the married woman finds a further outlet for her love and a deep exhilaration of fulfillment. ~ But what about the woman who enters religion? She is and always remains as truly a woman as does her class-mate who marries. She has the same nature, physically, psychologically, and emotionally as her classmate. But she enters a state in which none of these ordinary means of fulfillment are present. She has no husband to love or who will love her, and no ohe in whom she finds a. omparable outlet on the same plane. She has no way of giving her-self in precisely the same way that the married woman has, nor will she ever enjoy the deeply satisfying experi-ence of physical motherhood. The question obviously arises: Is such a one destined inevitably to frustration and the impossibility of fulfill-ment? The answer is just as obvious. We simply cannot doubt that the religious woman, can find fulfillment of her womanly nature. The way of life that a sister lives finds its inspiration in the words and example of our Lord Himself. And the fruits of sanctity in the thousands of woman before her in the same way of life is proof enough that such a woman can find real fulfillment. Indeed, all we need as proof of this is to come' to know just one sister who has lived her religious life successfully. She radiates the best of womanhood to a degree that any other woman can only envy. Her life bears out the truth of the state-ment of Leon Bloy: "The holier a woman, the more she is a woman." Principles of Solution_ When we attempt to explain how a ~eligious can attain fulfillment, a twofold point of view presents itself. The first is the speculative point of view, or considering it + + + Woman's Fulfillment VOLUME 21, 1962 21 4. 4. otumban Browning, C.P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 22 from abstract principles. The second a.pproach is from the practical plane. Speculatively, or in the abstract, the answer to the ques-tion is relatively simple. It may be stated this way: The religious woman sublimates all her noble womanly quali-ties and aspirations and finds fulfillment of all on a higher plane. In other words, she dedicates her womanhood in all its fullness to God. And the fulfillment that she fails to find naturally in marriage and motherhood, she finds supernaturally through a total giving of self to God. The love that makes her capable of being a good wife and mother she centers more exclusively on God. This love takes on a new dignity and richness in her dedicated state in that it is more supernatural. Her desire to be a mother finds its sublimation in that, through sacrificing physical motherhood, she achieves a spiritual motherhood toward all souls, and especially toward those whom she personally helps. Thus, on the supernatural plane, one that is richer in true and lasting goods, the religious sister finds an out-let for all her natural inclinations. And in so doing she attains a fulfillment that is really' higher and more reward-ing than is possible for the married woman. Pope Pius XII stated this very clearly in his encyclical on virginity: Finally, it may not be asserted, as some do, that the mutual help which is sought in Christian marriage is a more effective aid in striving for personal sanctity than the solitude of the heart, as they term it, of virgins and celibates. For although all those who have embraced a life of perfect chastity have de-prived themselves of the expression of human love permitted in the married state, nonetheless it cannot therefore be affirmed that because of this privation they have diminished the human personality. For they receive from the Giver of heavenly gifts something spiritual which far exceeds the mutual help which husband and wife confe~ upon each other. They consecrate themselves to Him who is their source, and who shares with them His divine life, and thus personality suffers no loss, but gains immensely. For who, more than the virgin, can apply to himself that marvellous phrase of the Apostle Paul: "I live, now not I; but Christ lives in me" (Sacra virginitas, NCWC edition, n. 39). As we stated before, this is treating the matter from the speculative, or abstract, point of view. And no one can question the validity of this statement of the question. The religious finds fulfillment on an higher plane, devot-ing her womanhood to higher things through the sacrifice of natural goods. When we turn to the discussion of the practical aspects of the same problem, we are guided, of course, by the principles just stated. But since on the practical plane we are concerned with how the individual may realize the ideal in her own life, we are immediately confronted with some difficulty. This difficulty arises from the fact that this higher fulfillment is supernatural. The area of the supernatural is an area of faith. Any supernatural living must be evaluated by principles of faith and all its rewards are supernati~ral. But'just~ as the supernatural life of grace does not destroy the soul's natural life and inclinations, so in our thinking the f~ict that we are guided by faith does not destroy our natural outlook and inclinations. In fact this natural outlook is often the more spontaneous one and needs to be super-naturalized by an act of the will. And it is precisely in the difficulty of maintaining a supernatural outlook on her life of dedication to God in its day by day unfolding that a problem can arise in the life of the individual religious. The goods that she has sacrificed are more tangible and can sometimes be more real to her just because they are natural. The supernatural goods she seeks are spiritual and intangible and can tend at times to be rather unreal to her. In the concrete, then, the conflict amounts to this: The religious is very conscious of her basic natural inclinations and knows that they are toward things that are very real to her. She has a clear idea of what a husband is and is awi~re of her innate desire to be loved by one. She knows what a baby is and feels the instinctive desire for her own baby. She is aware that she has sacrificed these natural goods in order to love and be loved by God and to become a mother of many souls spiritually. But these latter things she cannot see clearly because they are spiritual and super-natural. Sometimes they may appear very unreal to her as in times of greater darkness of soul or discouragement. The remedy in such a conflict is, of course, to use her will to apply the principles of faith to her life in its con-crete circumstances. She needs to remember that super-natural goods are of more worth. ~than natural ones, that goods are not to be evaluated only as they bear on this life, but in the light of eternity. It is in this way that the religious can preserve and deepen her basic spirit of dedi-cation to God. And in the process her faith will deepen enabling her to see the goods she seeks as all the more desirable and rewarding. The sting of sacrifice may always remain because natural inclinations always remain with us as long as we are in this world. But as faith grows, even the sacrifice can become a source of deep joy and peace. Christian tradition is full of evidence of this fact. A case in point is the love poems of St. John of the Cross. The themes of suffering and love are so intermingled in these poems as to be almost indistinguishable. The follow-ing verse is given as an example: 4- Womat~'$ Fulfillment VOLUME 21, 1962 ÷ ÷ olumban Browning~ .P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 24 0 cautery most tenderl O gash that is my guerdonl O gentle handl O touch how softly thrillingl Eternal life you render, Raise of all debts the burden And change my death to life, even while killingl (Poems of St. John of the Gross, translated by Roy Campbell, Penguin edition, p. 59) Sublimation in Practice A religious can easily understand that the principles stated above are true. She finds it easy to see that ideally the religious should find fulfillment through the sublima-tion of all that ig good in her womanly nature to higher goals. She has no difficulty either in seeing that there can be an amount of difficulty in actual practice. This comes from the fact that she is seeking goods that are seen only through faith while all around her she can see attainable goals of the human order that appeal to her. But because the transfer from theory to practice is not always easy, let us attempt to spell out a little more in detail what a reli-gious can do to help herself attain the goal for which she has sacrificed so much. As in all things else, so here, the proper attitude of mind is important. What a sister thinks about her way of life will determine in great part how successfully she lives it. And the attitude of mind that is so important here is that of faith. A faith that merely recognizes the principles stated above is not enough. A living spirit of faith has to be developed and deepened. Without this, the religious can never really attain what she is seeking. But when her faith is strong to the point of being an habitual attitude of mind, she will find in it the motives for living her life positively and happily. Regarding the need for and the role of faith in the consecrated woman, Father Perrin, O,P. says in his excellent little book, Virginity: By her physical constitution, also, and by her sensitiveness, woman is subject to variability and instability. Faith endows her with the stability of being supported by Him Who is the Savior and who changeth not. She is dependent upon Him who is peace both quieting and fulfilling. In feminine virginity the abundance and vigor of faith are more evident for more special reasons. It follows from St. Paul's words: "The head of the woman is the man" that unless she wishes to be a truncated being, a woman without a husband on earth must have Christ as her head (J. M. Perrin, O.P., Virginity [Westminister: Newman, 1955], p. 96). Guided by a spirit of faith, the sister must keep the deep conviction of the supremacy of the supernatural over the natural, of the eternal over the temporal. This means practically in her case that she is pursuing supernatural and eternal goods while the married woman is seeking what are more immediately natural and tem-poral goods. This does not mean to imply, of course, that the married woman is seeking only natural goods but merely that her immediate goals are natural and tem-poral. True, the married woman's, lqve for her husband will remain in heaven and be, a,;s0urce'o[ joy foi-,;he~ But it will be completely overshadowed by her love for God, The natural goods of marriage, which are the ones the re-ligious gives up when she enters religion, are primarily goods of this world. By contrast, the things that the re-ligious seeks are primarily eternal, Her grasp of them here on earth remains very limited but her faith will tell her that they are an anticipation of the union with God that is eternal in heaven, A religious needs a strong and persevering conviction of faith on this point or else she will begin to think too much of the things she has given up and that inevitably brings conflict. This same spirit of faith will show the religious ever more clearly the. necessity and the joy of loving Christ with all her heart. We have stated that love is woman's most characteristic virtue and that her love is something that she must give in some way. Pius XII tells us how the religious is to give her love: Certainly it is the love of Christ that ~arges a virgin to retire behind convent wails and remain there all her life in order to contemplate and love the heavenly Spouse more easily and without hindrance; certainly it is the same love that strongly inspires her to spend her life and strength in works of mercy for the sake of her neighbor (Sacra virginitas, NCWC edition, n. 39). The religious must also remember that since love always contains an element of suffering, this must necessarily be so in her life. In fact, this is all the more certain to be present in her life from the very fact that Christ is her Spouse. Regarding this Father Perrin says: Virginity, in sum, is too closely united with Christ, too near His tastes, too aware of what the service of redemption requires not to carry a profound imprint of the Cross. The union with Christ itself, undoubtedly, is enough to enable the virgin to participate in the mortification of Jesus Christ . The willing-ness of virginity for the mystical union will set the sign of the Cross on the whole life, something necessary to remember in order to understand many of the pages of hagiography at their just value (Perrin, op. cit., p. 103). ÷ Could it be that the difficulty that some meet with in ÷ their efforts at sublimation comes principally from their ÷ failure to grasp in a practical way the need for suffering Woman's in the giving of their love? These would do well to recall t~ullltlraent the many ways in which a mother suffers in the giving of her love and in the full implications of her motherhood. It may unquestionably be said that to the degree that VOLUME 21, 1962 25 + + Columban Browning, C~P. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 26 the religious grows in the personal love for our Lord, to the same degree will she attain the higher fulfillment she seeks: "Christian virginity is devised for love as the lungs are devised for air" (Perrin, op. cit., p. 99). But when we say~ this, it is important to remember that the love we refer to is not the predominantly emotional feeling that is some-times called love. This type of love may have a great part in leading a young woman into marriage, but even there, it is not enough for happiness in marriage. The religious, too, may sometimes experience something of this feeling but it is not the love that can and must nourish her life. That love is a higher supernatural love that can be entirely independent of any feeling and that is far more enduring and rewarding. It is a love, in other words, that cannot be gauged by how one reacts to things on a given day but by perseverance in self-giving. After all that we have said, must we conclude that the religious woman must free herself from all those qualities of love that we think of as precisely human and womanly? By no means. It is upon her human womanly qualities that these supernatural qualities are based. For all the supernatural faith and love that must animate her, the religious must still remain thoroughly human in the best sense of the word. All that is good in her nature must be developed and used for the glory of God and the good of others. She must use the warmth of her human love es-pecially in her efforts to win others to God and in her dealings with her fellow religious. But at the same time she must remember that this human love has been dedi-cated to God to serve a higher supernatural end. That such an ideal is possible of attainment is clear from the following words of Pius XII: Chastity and virginity (which imply also the inner renuncia-tion of all sensual affection) do not estrange souls from this world. They rather awaken and deepen the energies needed for wider and higher offices beyond the limit of individual families. Today there are many teaching and nursing sisters who, in the best sense of the word, are nearer to life than the average person in the world (Pius XII, Apostolic Exhortation to the Interna-tional Congress o[ Nuns Devoted to the Teaching of Girls, Sept. 13, 1951). The religious has ever within her reach all the means to foster this spirit of faith and love that will enable her to find fulfillment. The sacraments, prayer, spiritual reading, and other spiritual exercises enter daily into the life of a religious. Nourishing herself faithfully at these sources of grace, she can daily strengthen her faith and deepen her love. And as she comes to live more on the supernatural level, she will tend to think less of the na-tural joys she has given up in terms of sacrifice. She will rather think of them as a small price to pay for the deep happiness she finds. Her craving to bestow her love will find its deepest fulfillment in loving God and his children. Her desire to be loved will come to rest in the calm as-surance that God's love for her is constant and unchang-ing. Her motherly instinct will find its fullest outlet as she sees herself as the mother" of~many souls spiritually. An amount of struggle may still remain for the simple reason that she will always retain her basic natural orien-tation. But perseverance will bring to the religious a ful-fillment known only to the woman who has surrendered her womanhood in its entirety to God. ÷ ÷ ÷ Woman's Fulfillment VOLUME 21, 1962 MOTHER MARY ANTHONY Cornelia Connelly and the Spiri of Suffering Obedience Mother MaryAn-thony, S.H.C.J. teaches English at Rosemont College, Rosemont, Pennsyl-vania. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Cornelia Connelly,1 who founded the Society of the Holy Child Jesus (S.H.C.J.) in England in 1846, saw her work spread to America in 1862 when the first foundation was made in Pennsylvania. Today, a hundred years later, the Society has twenty-eight houses in this country. On the occasion of the hundredth anniversary of the Society in this country, this article is offered as a slight memorial to her founder. The heritage of any religious family is a living tradi-tion distinctive in starting point and attitude (an area hard to define), less so in means, toward a goal recogniz-able in generally accepted terms. The initial channeling is traced by the instrument God has chosen and guided first to discern, then to execute a pattern which against the ground of particular time and circumstance will manifest in new detail God's plan for "filling up what is wanting in the sufferings of Christ." Uniqueness resides in the individuality of the instrument, the religious" founder, and in his or her perception of the role of the new insti-tute within the larger grouping that is the Church. This perception, however it may communicate itself person-to-person from the founder to the ever widening circle of disciples, is ultimately formulated in the rule of the con-gregation where the solemn ratification of Mother Church safeguards it from distortion. But the sense of mission, of the public life, as it were, of the fully integrated society presupposes a deep interior-ity, a known way to God that constitutes the individual 1 This article has been approved for publication by the Reverend Desmond McCarthy, promoter of the faith, Diocese of S6uthwark, England. spirituality o[ its members. Personal sanctification and the salvation of souls are the twin goals of religious pro-fession, and the former is the matrix. In what concerns the intimate relations of the soul with God the greatest delicacy is only fitting. Prescriptive norms as such can point the path, then set the soul free to follow '~the draw-ing of that Love and the voice of that Calling." Lived example best helps the hesitant. The working out of the unit figure in the design, seen as God .sees it harmonious and whole, is learned indeed by heart, by loving study of the actual steps to perfection of the one who first lived the teachings cherished now by a growing spiritual family. Cornelia Connelly (1809-1879), foundress of. the So-ciety of the Holy Child Jesus, gives her children just such guidance--a rnle distilled from praye.rful experience and tried in the fire of the unitive life amidst the demands of the teaching apostolate. To her words then for definitive statement, to her life for burning confirmation. And in both the same pattern 'is discernible--love, suffering, obe-dience (conformity to God's will). These come through consistently as motive, means, and end. According to the end and. spirit, of our special, vocatlon,. mysteries of the most subhme teaching are to be found ~n the humble and hidden life of the Holy Child Jesus, in which God manifests in a most wonderful manner the .treasures of His Mercy and of His boundless Love. In that Divine Child, en-closed for nine months in the womb of His Virgin Mother, born in a stable, exposed to suffering and poverty, fleeing into Egypt, hidden and labouring in a humble workshop, is found our Divine Master, our Model and our Spouse; and from the living wells of His perfect humility, His divine charity, and His ab-solute obedience, we are to receive the spirit of the Holy Child Jesus (Rule S.H.C.J., par. 2). In this school of Divine Science, contemplating the Eternal Wisdom in the lowliness of His Humanity, we should seek to attain the knowledge of our own nothingness and misery, and that of His infinite love and mercy; we should learn to uproot the evil inclinations of our corrupt hearts, and to cultivate therein the germ of practical mortification, studying in the ex-ample of a hidden God the sweetness of suffering and contempt, that we may thus rejoice to labour and to die with Him in the constant practice of poverty, chastity, and obedience (Rule S.H.C~J., par. 3). In the rule on humility (adapted from that of St. Ig-natius), we are bidden. "with our whole strength to ac-cept and desire what Christ our Lord loved and em-braced" to the extent of wishing "to suffer insults, false witness, and injuries., through the desire of imitating our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ and of being clothed with His shame," so conforming our lives to His. The order and emphasis are seen to be constant. Love is. motive, stressed as knowledge that moves the will, not as emotion. Suffering is means, chosen because of the exam-ple of Christ, never in isolation. Obedience is end, per- + + + Cornelia Connelly VOLUME 21, 1962 29 fect union in the conformity of our will with God's. The rule on obedience reiterates this forcefully: "All should give themselves up to perfect obedience, recognising the Superior whoever she may be in the place of Christ our Lord"; "they ought to have before their eyes God, our Creator and Lord, for love of Whom they obey His crea-ture"; "All should be prompt at the voice of the Superior as at the voice of Christ our Lord"; "Let each one con-vince herself that those who live under obedience ought to let themselves be ruled and guided by Divine Providence through their Superiors"; "the Sisters should endeavour to accustom themselves to regard not her whom they obey, but rather Him for Whose sake they all obey, Christ our Lord"; "Each one attending to her own duties and office should patiently await, as from the hand of God, what-ever may be decided for her." A directive at once comprehensive and specific opens the purely ascetical Chapter 19 of the Rule: From the Hidden Life of our Divine Spouse we should learn the value we ought to set on prayer and the interior life, making them the basis of our spiritual perfection, and the fountain whence we should draw help and strength to perform in a perfect manner the duties of charity in our active life. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mother Ma~y Anthony REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 3O This focuses the attention of Mother Connelly's daughters on the phase of our Lord's life which is least immediately suggestive of suffering, but from the earliest references the association is unmistakable--"In that Divine Child. ex-posed to suffering and poverty., is found our Model"; "studying in the example of a hidden God the sweetness of suffering and contempt." Love and obedience are in-evitably linked with childhood; what insight joins to these suffering, even makes it central? A grasp perhaps of the utter emptying--exinanivit seipsum---of the Incarna-tion, most compellingly evident in the dependence of the Child. This would indeed be best appreciated by one who had known natural motherhood. We recall the image of that Pieth of February 2, 1840--C6rnelia, the grieving mother, holding the body of her two-year old son. He had died in her arms after severe burns resulting from an accident at play near a vat of boiling sugar at their Louisiana home. This incident had followed swiftly upon an oblation made in response to a sudden inspiration of grace. Over-whelmed with a sense of gratitude and wellbeing in the joy of home life and the fervor of conversion, she had cried: "O my God, if all this happiness be not for Thy glory and the good of my soul--take it from me. I make the sacrific!!" This scene prompts further consideration of Cornelia Connelly's unusual vocation and its acceptance in the spirit of the suffering obedience of Christ. Her unques-tioning docility to ecclesiastical advisors who considered genuine her husband's call to the priesthood and coun-seled the separation it entailed, was truly grounded in the faith of Abraham. She knew as no one else could know the heart of the man who wa~ h~r hfsband.' Did-she:foresee his defection? She knew as no one but a mother could how this strange step would scar her children. Even had the wise and generous provision made for them been carried out, the three living Connelly children would have had much to adjust to in their uprooted and anomalous situa-tion. Mercifully hidden from Cornelia at the time of these decisions was the mad violation of agreement by which their father removed them from her influence and suc-ceeded in estranging them from her and from their Catho-lic faith.2 There was no ram in the thicket for Cornelia. But God raised up children as from the ashes of her holocaust. Her apostolate of education was chiefly among the young, those in whom she bade her daughters "constantly strive to see Jesus," and whom they are to lead "to taste and to embrace the sweet yoke which He offers them." Her choice of the Epiphany as the day on which members of her Society renew their vows points up this double mani-festation, the recognition and response of self-oblation, and the giving of Christ in the self-giving of their lives. Nor may we overlook the relation of the first Epiphany to the slaying of the innocents. To dwell exclusively on the sacrificial aspects of Cor-nelia Connelly's life and teachings is to miss the most dis-tinctive if most paradoxical characteristic of her spirit, its joyfuI simplicity. A brief re-examination ofthe texts al-ready quoted discloses this note: "studying in the example of a hidden God the sweetness of suffering and contempt, that we may thus rejoice to labour and to die with Him," "to taste and to embrace the sweet yoke which He offers." Elsewhere in the Rule we read: "All should cultivate a spirit of joy and spiritual contentment"; "the whole coun-tenance should express cheerfulness and peace." We have here the deep and resonant gaudiurn of Ad-vent, the sense of ancient sacrifice fulfilled and hope brought to fruition, the joy of the mother in her expected child. Cornelia's womanly gift of creating a home as focal point and radiant center of natural happiness has been transformed into Mother Connelly's sure supernatural ~ The Earl o[ Shrewsbury and the Borghese family were to see to the education of the Connelly boys, Mercer (already at Stonyhurst) and Frank when old enough. The daughter, Adeline, was to remain with her mother. Pierce Connelly took all three to Italy with him when he lost the lawsuit by which he hoped to regain power over Cornelia. 4- ÷ ÷ Corneliu ¢onnelly VOLUME 2~ ~962 instinct for making a religious house or noviceship ol: school a Nazareth whose inmates grow in age and grace. with liberty of spirit and loving guidance. It is less saying "no" to nature than "yes" to God. Positive joyous accept.~ ance of God's way made known through ordinary means, this is the heritage of tlie Sisters of the Holy Child. ÷ ÷ ÷ Mother Mary Anthony REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 32 CHARLES B. TRUNDLE, s.J. I, ove and Perfect Chastity God is love, wrote St. John the evangelist. Because this is true, only those who love can possess God during this life and the next. To love is therefore man's greatest necessity: so it always was and so it will always be. Love is the key to life, or better, it is life itself, A man must love if he is to have life in him; this is God's law, a law based on God's own nature and therefore universal, eternal; and necessary. God did not conceal this law from mankind; he did not leave it to chance for man to discover. He did not say: "I will let men find out for themselves the secret of enter-ing into friendship with Me. Those who stumble upon this truth and live according to it, I will reward; those who fail, I will punish." God's love could not let mankind be ignorant in a matter of such importance. The goodness of God moved Him, rather, to establish a school of love, a school almost all men would desire to enter, a school teaching lessons most men would be will-ing to learn. This divinely founded school is marriage. Without marriage, it has been said, most men and women would not achieve the degree of love of which they are capable. And without marriage few children would re-ceive the love which is essential not only for their well-being but even for their continued existence. What kind of love is learned in the school of marriage? It is the love that typifies the mature adult; namely, a love of someone else for his sake, not for one's own. It is the love that characterizes God Himself who loves not that He may receive but that He may give. On the human level perhaps the purest expression of this love is that of a parent for his child. It is this kind of love which is man's best preparation for heaven, for it makes man most like God. It is certain that such a high degree of unselfish love is not to be reached without a long training; accordingly, ÷ ÷ ÷ Charles B. Trundle, S.J. teaches religion at the University of Scranton, Scranton 10, Pennsylvania. VOLUME 21, 1962 Ch~r/~s B. Trund/~ REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS God has' established some preparatory stages through which human beings normally pass. First, there is the complete self-love of the infant. This is good and a part of God's plan. The baby is just getting his foothold on earth; if he did not make known his hunger, his discom-fort, his needs by day and night, his very existence might be threatened. Soon.the child's love breaks the bonds of self and begins to include an ever widening field of persons: his parents, his brothers and sisters, the neighbors, his classmates, the members of his "gang," and after a brief period of aver-sion the opposite sex. There are, however--and this is to be expected---varying amounts of self-love in all these relationships. Some of them are heavily freighted with a love of gratitude; that is, the love is based on what the other has done or can do for the youth rather than for the other person's worth in himself. In the usual course of events, with the development of sexual maturity in all areas (emotional, intellectual, and spiritual as well as physical), one falls in love with a particular member of the other sex. Normally this love culminates in the establishment of a permanent relation-ship between the two, the state that we call marriage. The preliminary steps have been taken and the two now begin (if their schooling is to be successful) to live the profession vowed at the wedding, to love the other more than self. The couple is happy to express their inner union in a new way by becoming physically one (a unity which God selected as a fitting symbol of the union of Christ and His Church). The pair may be content with this new growth in love, but God has even further plans for them. Nor-mally, he blesses their bodily union with an extension of their love for each other: a new life, their child, is con-ceived and born. Almost without choosing it, the father and the mother are now led to new heights 6f unselfish love. Economies are made, painfully perhaps, but basically in a willing manner, in the areas of recreation, clothing, food, and so forth. Time schedules are altered to fit in with the needs of the newcomer. It may seem, in fact, that one's whole life is revolutionized by the arrival of the infant son or daughter. For the first time, perhaps, many parents will come to know what it means to love another without thought for oneself. An even further development of love is possible, how-ever. The parents' interests and concerns widen con-stantly with the growth of their children. They become attentive to the educational opportunities of their com-munity; they may get deeply involved in the scouts, in Little League baseball, taking on the role of coach or den mother and so forth. Decent literature, safety patrols, medical advances are important to them, as are a hundred other areas touching their child's life. Going along with all this is usually a widening of the heart, a breaking down of old confining walls to extend the limits of love to more and more of God's children. The father who has learned his iessons well in.the school of love can sympathize deeply with other parents who may lose their sons and daughters in a dreadful fire; he can feel for other families who are burdened by poverty, poor health, or other trials. He will wish to help them, if he can, by contributing of his own time and money. Wider and wider his heart becomes until it is much more like the heart of God; until it becomes perfect as his Father's who makes the sun to shine upon both just and unjust and the rain to fall upon the fields of both sinner and saint. Not all are willing, of course, to learn in the school of love; some rebel against its teacher, fail miserably at its lessons. Whatever the cause of this failure may be (very often, perhaps, because someone failed the learner at an earlier stage), God does not wish it to be so. There is nothing new in what has been said up to this point. What bears highlighting is this: the role and pur-pose of sex on the path to love which is traveled by the ordinary man and woman. If neither sex offered the other deeply satisfying intellectual, spiritual, and emotional completion, how few there would be who would enter the married state with its permanent obligations and bur-dens. If there were no physical attraction between male and female, how few couples would be herioc or unselfish enough to bring children into this troubled world! The divine strategy, then, should be noted well. God places in mankind strong appetites, powerful desires which win his heart and encourage his mind and will to make such com-mitments as they would never make by themselves. God does not intend marriage as an end in itself, therefore, but rather as a means to an end; that is to say, as a setting or school in which most men and women best learn how to love. This is one reason why every marriage, whether its participants are aware of it or not, possesses great dignity in the eyes of God. If the married state is dear to God because it can help man become more God-like, the state of consecrated chastity is far more precious to Him. And for this reason: the religious professes to begin his life where the married may be said to end his. By making the three vows of poverty, obedience, and chastity the religious cuts him-self off from the great obstacles to universal love. He enters a religious community so that he may be able to devote himself more completely to the works of love. He sacrifices the privilege of having his own family so that"he ÷ ÷ Love and Perfect Chastity VOLUME 21, 1962 Charles B. Trundle REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS may be a father, a brother, a sister, or a mother to all. He will never meet or serve all people, of course, but he does pray for all and he does make himself free and well-disposed to receive wholeheartedly anyone God may send to him in the course of his apostolic life. Freed from the duty and privilege of loving exclusively one husband or wife and six or a dozen children, he professes to give his love to every soul as if it alone were his only concern. Needless to say, some religious fail .in their own school of love and most of them must work for years to fulfill the ambitious goal they chose with God's grace at the time of their first vows. Be that as it may, the religious life in itself is aimed more directly at loving and serving God and all mankind, and this is one reason for its greater dignity in the eyes of both God and man. Since the young religious bypasses marriage in order to place himself further along the.road to God, he has no need for the God-designed means that lead to the married state; namely, sex. Nevertheless, he possesses it. God does not usually work miracles; he does not tamper with or mutilate His creatures. Accordingly, the sexual faculties (spiritual, intellectual, emotional, and physical) may be expected to be operative in the religious as in any other person of comparable age, education, background, and so on. As a matter of fact, because of a religious' greater sen-sitivity to beauty, generosity, and goodness, these faculties may be even more active than in his counterpart in the world. No religious may expect, therefore, to escape the strongly appealing call of marriage and of all the legiti-mate activities that comprise it. The responsibility for this is not his, but God's. For it was He who designed the faculties and it was His wisdom which added the pleasure to their use so that man would be led willingly to the grand purposes God had in mind for him. This attrac-tion, then; may be expected as a normal experience for most people; it is part of God's general plan for the hu-man race. It is unfortunate that some religious do not have a wholesome attitude ~regarding this very important area of life. One hears the complaint from those tempted; "But all this is so incompatible with my state in lifel" It is only one small, false step to that most disco.uraging conclusion: "Therefore, I am not a good relig!ous." How much more realistic and better would it be to say: "How important it must be to lovel Here is God, remind-ing me through faculties He designed for this very pur-pose that I must be sure to love if I am to have any part with Him. If others need this reminder, how much more do I, for love is. my chosen profession." Better still, he may even voice these thoughts as a prayer: "Dear God, I thank You for this reminder of the necessity of love in every life. But You Yourself have in-vited me to love in a higher and more Christlike way. Give me the grace, please, to carry off my gift to You suc-cessfully and without tension, worry, or fear. Never for-get, Lord, that it is Your doin~ ~h~it I f~el~th~ :appeal of Your school of love in the world; it is Your doing, too, that I have left the world to love You more. You have placed me between the two: I know that You will pro-vide." 4. 4" 4. Love and Peryect Chastity VOLUME 21, 1962 37 PHILIP C. ROND, M.D. Early Recognition of Emotional Illness Dr. Rond, 1500 W. Third Avenue, Co-lumbus 12, Ohio, is Chairman of the Section of Psychia-try at Mr. Carmel Hospital, Colum-bus, Ohio. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS For many--too manymyears there existed the notion that there was no need to be concerned with mental illness in religious because it was extremely rare. Then, too, prayer and devotion were considered a panacea for emo-tional ills such as worry, depression, and so forth; no one needed special medico-psychological help if he or she would just pray fervently. So, besides denial, devotion was prescribed by non-medical persons as a substitute prescrip-tion for medico-psychological help, in order to preserve our religious resources as intact as possible for the higher calling and services they provide. The Medical Corps of the military has the objective "to maintain the fighting strength" using the best 'available techniques. This motto could be modified for religious, "to maintain the devotional strength" using the.best avail-able techniques. This latter would include early recogni-tion of emotional troubles and/or the need for specialized help, from non-medical religious superiors and personnel, and psychiatry. Religious are men and women from all socio-economic backgrounds who carry with them into their spiritual lives their own personality traits, molded by their experiences prior to entering the religious community. Because of these features they may at one time or another develop emotional conflicts with or without associated physical complaints requiring medico-social-psychological aid. First aid could come from within the community, from those trained to handle these conditions. Later, but not too late, .outside professional help should be obtained, especially while the religious is still at his or her daily duties. The needed professional medico-psychological help for the concomitants of their tensions can relieve them of the suffering which makes them pQor community associates and inefficient attendants to their religious duties. The early signals of emotional distress can be put into two main categories: namely, those of habit pattern (be-havior) disturbances, and of physical (bodily) disturbances. The early recognition of these signals depends upon the open-minded, unprejudiced acceptance of emotional prob-lems as specific, actual entities by those in authority in religious communities. So, whileywe d~s~ribe sigfig:' for Which to watch, we are trusting that those who should be alert are not denying the importance of being attentive to them. Dividing the early symptoms into two categories does not exclude the possibility of overlapping of these symptoms. However, if there is alertness to signals from one or the other of these two areas, the sharper will be the perception of significant clues. First, regarding symptoms in the behavior category area, these are based upon knowledge of the individual prior to the devolopment of the changes. Every good leader knows his or her personnel well enough to have such a baseline of reference. The moving of disturbed personnel without the transmission of sufficient personality information puts the receiving superior in the unfortunate position of not having a baseline of normality from which to evaluate, and often precludes early proper action in a given case. Unprejudiced personality assessments should accompany every normal transferee. Disturbed personnel should be moved only with considerable planning in which the in-dividual's needs take precedence over the superior's or the community's needs. Knowing individuals' basic behaviorisms or habit pat-terns, we can proceed to compare them with themselves (not ourselves or others) periodically, casually, thought-fully. The very early signals are almost too numerous to mention but consist of such things as the development of a persistent inability to arise easily at the appointed time or go to bed and to sleep at the appointed hour; a change in eating habits, in appetite; a restlessness, a diminution in attention span; irritability, fussiness; nervousness at devo-tions; inability to perform the usual duties assigned; de-velopment of nervous habits such as eye twitching, fore-head wrinkling, na~al sniffing, head jerking, foot tapping, leg rocking; withdrawing, overaggressiveness, moodiness, silliness, and so forth. In the early stages help is almost 100% effective in stop-ping the progress of the disorder and preventing it from going on to a serious condition. At this point the relief may come from discussing matters with a wise superior. Early referral for professional guidance, diagnosis, and advice, can still keep the role of the therapist in the com-munity, with the superior, or his or her appointed rep-resentatives, with the psychiatrist acting only in the con-sultant role. These early behavioral changes are the result of an individual's efforts to deal with an anxiety that is Emotional Illness VOLUMI~ 21~ 1962 Philip . RoncI REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 40 new or too intense, or accumulative from a number of factors uniting with a crescendo effect. The new behav-iorisms may not necessarily be bad in themselves but they indicate a serious conflict situation which, while un-healthy, is often not so deeply fixated as to require in-tensive short or long term psychotherapy, removal from the current setting for therapeutic attention, or any medicine. An ounce of prevention---early recognition-- may make it possible to provide help from within the community. It is to be anticipated that early recognition of signifi-cant behavior changes will improve, as acceptance of them as meaningful is well understood in the community. There are those who are referred to as having always been a little different. However, there is always a point where it should not be accepted without special consideration. Then there are those about whom it is said, "They were 'so normal,' we just couldn't believe it." In the first instance delay with help may occur because "it's expected" behavior. In the second case people may not believe their eyes, until the behavior becomes so bizarre or unacceptable that action must be taken. If we will look on the early behavioral and/ or physical symptoms as ways of asking for help we can justify an earlier move to assist. This way of asking for help results from the fact that the symptoms, a resolution arrived at quite automatically, are quite indifferent to the pressures of social mores. They are admissible because they operate so smoothly within the ego function as not to have to be denied or rejected. Many neurotics are probably happy for the development of a physical symptom be-cause this offers them a reason (acceptable) to seek medical aid. Purely psychological symptoms do not warrant seek-ing help for many because of the social stigma attached even by intelligent people. The second category of body signals or disturbances can and do involve all the bod~, systems and organs, heart, lungs, muscles, bones and joints, excretory system, and sensory system. The specific body complaints are, like the behavioral ones, too numerous to mention, The social-emotional etiology of them is the item to be stressed. Too often insistence by the individual, and/or the superior, that the physical complaint has a structural origin which will be found, has delayed recovery, prolonged incapacity and led to many lost hours of fervent, undistracted devo-tion the world requires so badly. Early medical evaluation is very important for the individual and for eliminating lost devotional hours. The body signals, as the behavior signals, are recognized by their newness in the individual, their lack of responsive-ness to the usual medical procedures, their intensity, and often a bizarre quality in the complaint or in the relating of it; by their association or tie-in with a gradually built up source of emotional tension which reaches a peak, or the sudden development of an emotional charge which has overwhelmed the personality defenses. The signals may be recognized by anyone. Those especial!y close to the situation should be respected When the~ report" shch ob-servations to their superiors who are a little more removed from the case. Early recognition usually implies quick recovery. Better to have pursued a false early signal with a medico-psycho-logical checkup which proves, negative than to have de-layed and produced a medico-psychological cripple with associated impaired devotional capabilities. As the supe-rior and his or her staff develop a competency in counsel-ing, one would expect much relief from the tension effects for the human individual in the religious life and com-munity living. Then the early recognition of signals of emotional turmoil will mean even better results, reflected in a maintenance of a greater operational devotional strength and capacity. Early recognition of emotional dis-orders also must include spotting the person in a com-munity who, because of his or her position, may be the precipitating cause, in oneor more other individuals, of emotional crises with their behavioral and/or bodily com-plaints. The precipitators often are blind to their un-healthy faculty, but many, with help, can see what they do. If insight cannot be gained, removal often is as neces-sary as removal of a focus of infection in the body. In conclusion, early recognition of the signs of emo-tional illness involves co~nparison of the religious behavior and/or physical status with his or her previous behavioral habits and physical state. This may be done by peers or superiors. It requires an open-mindedness about such con-ditions being possible and acceptable and treatable ill-nesses. The treatment of such conditions will vary depending upon the intensity of the distnrbance and the facilities and capabilities of those in the community. Referral for minor emotional problems to the psychiatrist will diminish as the skills in the community to handle them develop. But until such trained personnel are available within the re-ligious community early referral for medico-psychological help should be too early rather than too late. Emotional Illness VOLUME 21, lq62 41 JAMES MICHAEL LEE Notes Toward Lay Spirituality 4. 4. .I. Dr. Lee, 217 Wash- ~ngton Street, Hart-ford 6, Connecticut, ~s a member of thi~ faculty of St. Joseph College, West Hart-ford, Connecticut. "~EVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 42 Like every practicing lay Catholic the world over, I went to Mass last Sunday. Nothing unusual about that. And there was nothing unusual about the sermon either. The preacher gave rather clear instructions on how the layman interested in saving his soul should act in the world. He recalled the story of Moses and the Edomites (Num 20: 14-21). The great Israelite leader wished to pass through the land of Edom en route to the Promised Land. He therefore sent a message to the Edomite King saying: "Kindly let us pass through your country. We will not cross any fields or vineyards, or drink any well water, but will go straight along the royal road without turning to the right or to the left until we have passed through your territory." The priest then told us that this passage should serve as the rule of life for all Catholics. Laymen should pass directly on the royal road to heaven and should nei-ther look around at the world nor enjoy its pleasures. Like many a practicing. Catholic the world over, I did some spiritual reading last Sunday. Nothing unusual about that. And there was nothing unusual about the con-tent of the book either. The spiritual writer exhorted his readers to steel themselves against the things of this world so that they may attain glory in the next. He warned that Christians can grow closer to God only by flying directly to Him, and that this flight would be made impossible if we concern ourselves with earthly things. This is standard spiritual fare, and Catholic lay people have been and still are subjected to it from pulpit and page. This approach views the spiritual life as a system of defenses against a hostile world which is literally hell-bent on our destruction. The higher we advance in the spiritual life, the more sturdy will be our defenses. If only the world could be eliminated, then would we attain God! But it is obvious that we cannot eliminate the world as it exists out-side of ourselves. We can make repeated acts of the will saying, "World, cease to existI' but the stubborn world re-mains despite our strongest will acts. The only other course of action, therefore, is to eliminate the world as it exists within ourselves. This can be accomplished by con-stantly directing our thoughts away from the world and focusing our attention on a~n0n~orldly reality, such as God as He is in heaven. In this way the world.will cease to become a part of us, and', if we are vigilant and steadfast, we will attain a state of otherworldliness. This approach to lay spirituality has at least four major defects, any one of which is sufficient to cast serious doubts on its validity as a means of attaining perfection. These four include psychological unsoundness, existential un-soundness, unsuitability, and lack of historical basis. Cer- .tainly this almost exclusively negativistic approach does violence to our humanity. We cannot escape our meta-physical situation. We were made to see, to touch, to hear. Without these our mind would wither, dry up. Over and over again St. Thomas reiterates the necessity of contact with the world outside of us if we are to come to an aware-ness of ourselves. Indeed we know ourselves precisely by knowing others. Our minds and senses were given to us not to negate or deny the real, but rather, as Ghrist did, to draw all things to ourselves and thus to God Man has a double task, namely to enrich himself by expanding him-self so as to take in all reality, and to enrich reality by re-deeming it. All baptized Catholics are other Christs, and as such it is their task to share with Him in the redemption of all things. Man confronts reality as a co-redeemer, as Mouroux has observed. Just as the grass became a bit greener because Christ walked the earth~ so it should be-come greener still because we have walked the earth. ality not only has a duty to us, but we also have a duty to reality. This reciprocal obligation and enrichment cannot be fulfilled by shutting the world out, but rather by letting it flood in and inebriate us. "To be a Christian is to carry the whole world in your heart," said Zundel rightly. The liturgy is an excellent example of how the Church uses the senses to bring the outside world into the wor-shiper, to fill him to the bursting point with sensations of every sort. The beautiful vestments, the altar with its tabernacle and linens, the movement of the ministers all fill the worshiper with visual delight. Gorgeous singing, whether pain chant or polyphony, fills the room with its resonance and melody while the powerfully fragrant smell of the incense wafts about and clings tenaciously, to both building and nostrils. The Church opens to us the beauty of God's world, so that we may fill ourselves to satiety. Ought we not, then, open ourselves to the world? This exclusively negativistic approach to lay spiritual living is also unsound from an existential point of view. Lay Spirituality VOLUME 21, 1962 43 lames M. Lee R~V|EW FOR RELIGIOUS 44 Did not God'create the world? If He did, if He really did, and if creation is continuous and ongoing as the theolo-gians .say, then Godis somehow intimately in that world. Every cause is somehow in its effect. God is in the world more than just by power, just as the composer is in his symphony more than just by his creation of it. This is not pantheism, but rather a realization of the deep .bond be-tween God and His world. Certain of the Greek Fathers were very conscious of God's intimacy in and with the world. All things sing with God, to paraphrase Aristotle. The world is not evil; it is worldliness that is evil. World-liness is a psychological state of man's mind about the world; it is an inordinate, disproportionate love of the world. The world, God's world, cannot be blamed for its misuse in man's mind. God has given us the world so that by it we may return to Him--not in spite of it, but pre-cisely through it. Indeed it can be said that without the world we cannot approach God except by infused con-templation, which is granted only to a very few. If the world were so e,~il, then why will God restore it to man after the resurrection of the body? The world, is man's natural environment. I~ he but lets it be, it can become his supernatural environment also. But for this to come to pass he must look at the worl, d with the eyes of Christ, not with the eyes of Jansenius. The work of that great French Jesuit of this century, Teilhard de Chardin, has done much to give Catholics 'a proper vision of the world. By placing Christ squarely in matter, Chardin has effected a revolution in the spiritual life and in so doing has made the most profound theologi-cal advance Of the century. Chardin did not say that Christ was matter, but rather that He permeated matter. Conse-quently the world deserves our love and respect for the God-soaked reality it is. Man can accept the world, add to it by his co-redemptive faculty or detract from it by giving it.attributes it does not possess. The latter is worldlinessi Strangely, we take away from the dignity of the world when we add to it that which it does not possess. The Chardinian revolution bids us face the magnificent world for what it really is, not run away from it and call this shrinking sanctity. The exclusively negativistic approach to lay spirituality is .further defective because it is almost totally unsuitable to the layman's life in the mode and manner in which he lives it. Unlike most spiritual writers and many priestg, the layman lives completely in the world. Farmers see the beauty of the wheat fields glistening in the sun. Doctors see.the wonderful advances which science has made tb help mankind. After a day's toil, workers in offices arid factories feel the warmth of human friendship. Mathema- ticians become enraptured over the harmony of numbers. Concert audiences are enthralled over the delights of a superbly played symphony. Travellers to Europe are ec-static over the art treasures they find there. Surely they do not really believe that the world is evil and should be fled. They have seen too much of g0od~n~ss, too much.of beauty, too much of love, and yes, too much of G0d.in the world. What happens when the lay Catholic listens to a sermon or reads a book telling him to steel himself against the world? He perhaps assents (if he does not become bored) and then proceeds to act as if nothing was ever spoken or ever read. This course of action clearly indicates that he does not really believe the world is evil and to be avoided. The layman is not a spiritual schizophrenic, as he is some-times .accused, simply because.he never believed what the preacher or spiritual writer said. The result is that many words are uttered by preacher and page which are really wasted. No lay person in his right mind takes them se-riously. Father Thomas Stack, the prominent American litur-gist, complains that spiritual preaching and writing are rarely done with the layman in mind, but rather are in-tended for people who live in some ideal world. The lay-man knows the goodness of the world by practical contact and resists attempts by speculators who tell him that what he sees is an illusion. What is needed is spiritual teaching for the layman. The fourth major defect in an exclusively negativistic approach is that those great figures of Christianity who lived in the world just simply did not believe it, judging by their words and deeds. Christ did not walk through the fields and vineyards on the royal road, neither looking to the right nor to the left. Rather He went right into the midst of the fields and gathered there the fruit of the wheat; and He went into the midst of the vineyard and pressed the juice of the grape. And He blessed both, and gave the world Himself foreverl He left us a sign, not only that we might know Him, but that we might know the proper way to deal with the world. What can be more rep-resentative of the world than bread and wine? Christ did not steel Himself against the world, or reject it; He blessed it and made it divine. The world became Christl One of Christ's greatest servants, St. Francis of Assisi, was a man who knew how to confront the world. He did not despise it, or curse it, or steel himself against it. He opened his soul to it, let it pour in upon his soul, for he knew that simultaneously there flowed in God. St. Francis knew the Christ-like way of confronting a bird, or a blade of grass, or the ocean. In his extraordinarily beautiful and moving Canticle of Brother Sun, St. Francis points the way Lay Spirituality VOLUME 21j 1962 45 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS 46 toward proper confrontation of man to world. In this Can-ticle, the Saint takes the various realities of the world, the sun, the moon, the wind, fire, and so forth, and thanks God for what these realities are in themselves. Is St. Francis here denying the relation of God to matter, or holding that God is not deeply imbedded in the world? A close analysis of the Canticle reveals precisely the opposite. The first verse, on the other hand, speaks of the complete ineffa-bility of God; indeed St. Francis here notes that no man is worthy even to mention God. And then in the next verse the holy man of Assisi launches immediately into his praises of the world. Is there a lacuna in the Canticle? Nol St. Francis realized that reality is a paradox, that while no man could mention God, yet every man could mention Him at every moment of his life by properly confronting that world which He made and in which He was deeply imbedded. We do not live in a divided world, with an. abyss separating the natural and supernatural. Rather we live in one world where the natural and the supernatural interpenetrate each other in a fused reality. It was this way before the Fall; and after the Fall, the intense heat of Christ's love as manifested in His life and death acted as a tremendous fusion force to bring about once again the interwoven universe. St. Francis saw all this. We should profit from his life and teaching. Is this article a condemnation of the via negativa, the negative way to spiritual perfection? Certainly notl Rather it is a condemnation of an exclusively negative approach. No one can deny that Christ; or St. Francis, or any other saint for that mater employed the via negativa. However, this article attempts to show that the via positiva, the posi-tive way, is not only an important and necessary avenue to spiritual perfection, but is in fact more suited to lay spirituality than the negative way. It is not a case of a mutually exclusive either/or, but rather of an inclusive both/and. In their deepest existential reality the via nega-tiva and the via positiva merge and become one. The lay-man must use both ways, but for him the primacy belongs to the positive way. Spiritual writers and preachers should remember this when preparing their messages to the faith-ful. Undoubtedly one of the greatest Pontiffs of modern times was Pope Pius XII. Those of us who met him could not fail but to be profoundly struck by his deep sanctity. When this holy man of God lay dying, he asked for music to be played for him. He obviously felt that in his last mo-ments on earth, music would draw him closer tothe God he had served so well throughout his lifetime. What type of music did the saintly Pope ask for in his last hour? Gre- gorian chant? Spiritual motets? Nol He requested that Bee-thoven's First Symphony be played. Here was a deeply devout man, believed by many to be in heaven now, who in those crucial moments just before death, saw God more in "secular" reality than in professedly spiritual !reality. Here was the via positiva iri ~ictionl, ÷ ÷ ÷ Lay Sp~rituaUty VOLUME 21, 1962 R. F. SMITH, s.j. Survey of Roman Documents R. F. Smith, S.]. REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS This article will summarize the documents which ap-peared in ,4cta Apostolicae Sedis during August, 1961. All page references in the article will be to the 1961 Acta (vi 53). Three A llocutions On June 12, 1961 (pp. 495-99), Pope John XXIII ad-dressed the members of the Central Commission for the preparation of Vatican Council II on the occasion of the commission's first session. The Pope outlined the work of the commission which will consist in considering the prob-lems of the convocation of the council and in examining the preliminary drafts submitted by the other preparatory commissions of the council. His Holiness told the members of the commission that the coming council will leave art indelible mark on the history of the Church. On June 20, 1961 (pp. 499-503), the Vicar of Christ again addressed the same Central Committee, this time on the occasion of the closing of the first sessions of the corn, mission--sessions which were concerned with the member-ship of the council, procedural matters in the council, and the language of the council. The language is to be Latin, though the vernacular will be used when opportunity or necessity requires it. The Pope then proceeded to give the objectives of the council: the renewal of the holiness of the clergy; the effective instruction of the faithful in the truth:; of faith and of Christian morality; the right formation adolescents; the spread of the social apostolate; and the formation of a missionary soul in every Christian. On July 6, 1961 (pp. 503-04), the Pope addressed the members of the Commission for the Lay Apostolate for Vatican Council II. Through the commission he exhorted all the faithful to increased prayer for world peace. Miscellaneous Documents On August. 12, 1961 (pp. 525-27), His Holiness pub-lished the text of his handwritten letter constituting Amleto Cardinal Cicognani Secretary of State. On July 9, 1961 (pp. 504-06), John XXIII sent a radio message for the conclusion of the Seventh'~Na~i0nal Marlan~C0nven-tion of France held at Lisieux. He told his listeners that all Christians of whatever state of life were enveloped in the motherhood of the Blessed Virgin who does for all Chris-tians what every mother does for her child. The Pope in-sisted thatdevotion to the. Blessed Virgin is a mark of a person who is truly C~tholic. On June 20, 1961 (p. 507), the Holy Office issued a.warn-ing, telling those who. treat of Scripture to do so with pru-dence and reverence. They should be mindful o~ the teach-ings of the. fathers, of the magisterium of the Church, and of the sense of the Church. They should also be careful not to disturb the consciences of the faithful and not to violate the truths of faith. On June 26, 1961 (pp. 507-08), the Holy Office issued a decree placing on the Index Jean steinmann's La vie de Jdsus (Paris: Club des Librairies de France, 1959). On May 10, 1961 (pp. 513-16), the Sacred Congregation of Rites approved the reassumption" of the cause of BIessed Matthias Murumba, martyr~ and his twenty companion martyrs of Uganda. The martyrs died in 1886 and were beatified in 1920. On November 9, 1960 (pp. 517-20), the same congregation approved the introduction of the cause of the Servant of God, Brother Andrew (1845-1937), of the Congregation of the Holy Cross. On June 5, 1961 (p. 521), the Sacred Apostolic Peniten-tiary granted an indulgence of three years whenever a visitor to St. Peter's kisses the foot of the statue of St. Peter there and says the invocation, "St. Peter, pray for us." On June 9, 1961 (pp. 521~23), the Penitentiary approved a list of indulgences that may be gained by members of the Pontifical Work of Priestly Vocations. ÷ 4. ÷ Roman Documents VOLUME 2't', 1962 49 Viems/ Nets/ In Memoriam: Adam C. Ellis, S.]. (1889-1961) On November 25, 1961, in St. Louis, Missouri, oc-curred the death of Adam C. Ellis, S.J., one of the three co-founders of REw~w FoR RE~o~o~Js. Father Ellis was born in Buffalo, New York, entered the So-ciety of Jesus in 1905, was ordained in 1921, received his doctorate in 1926 from the Gregorian University, and for most of the rest of his life taught canon law at St. Mary's College, St. Marys, Kansas. He was the co-author of Canon Law:,4 Text and a Commentary and the translator-reviser of Religious Men and Women in Church Law and Handbook of Cere-monies. Father Ellis was a zealous worker in behalf of the religious of the United States and deserves a remembrance in their prayers and good works. May he rest in peace. 4. 4. 4, Views, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS Instruction from Congregation of Religious On February 2, 1961, the Sacred Congregation of Reli+ gious directed a new document to major religious superiors entitled Instruction to the Superiors of Religious Corn.,~ munities., on the Careful Selection and Training of Candidates. An English translation of the document can be purchased for one dollar from Sister Formation Bulletin., Ottumwa Heights College, Ottumwa Heights, Iowa. Seminary Statistics for the United States The July, 1961, Seminary Newsletter of the National Catholic Educational Association gives a statistical sum.~ mary of United States seminaries for the academic year 1960-61. According to the report there are 96 American diocesan seminaries; of these 28 are major seminaries, while 49 are minor seminaries and the remaining 19 com-prise both major and minor departments. During the same period in the United States there were 295 religious house~; of formation. Of these 106 were major seminaries; 122; minor seminaries; and 67 were combination major-minor seminaries. During the same period there was a total of 23,319 candidates for the diocesan priesthood and 19,629 for the religious priesthood, giving a complete total of 42,948 candidates for the priesthood in 1960-61. One re- mark would seem in order: the 23,319 candidates for the diocesan priesthood are cared for in 95 seminaries, while the smaller number of religious candidates (19,629) are found distributed in 295 houses offormation. This would seem to indicate that clerical religious groups of the United States might well'consider a consolidatingof theii" seminary institutions by grouping the seminary institu-tions of several orders or congregations into larger units. Retreat Conferences Fifteen retreat conferences for lay persons are available either on long play records or on magnetic tape. The con-ferences are given by the Reverend Raphael C.:McCarthy, s.J., retreat director at Sacred Heart Retreat House~ Se-dalia, Colorado. Each album of the records or each copy of the tape costs ~14.95 and can be ordered from Father McCarthy at the above address. The Church in Africa Herder-Korrespondenz for August, 1961, gives statistics illustrating the growth of the Church in Africa between 1949 and 1959. In 1949 there were 11,000,000 Catholics on the continent; in 1959 this number had increased to 20,200,000, a gain of 84%. The largest percentage increase was found in West Africa where Church.membership dur-ing the decade increased 120%; North Africa had the low-est increase, 37%. In eight countries of Africa Catholics form more than one-fourth of the total population. On the other hand two countries are listed as being without Cath-olics: British Somaliland and Mauretania, both of which are entirely Mohammedan in reiigious allegiance. The Church in Spain Raz6n y Fe for March, 1961, has a statistical survey of many facets of Church life in Spain. The following points from the article may be of interest. In 1960 in Spain there were 24,504 diocesan priests and 8,319 religious priests. In the same year there were 20,583 professed men religious and 71,309 professed women religious. In the academic year 1959-60, 5,302 men applied for admittance to Spanish seminaries; of these 4,173 were accepted, the other 1,129 being rejected. The latest available statistics show that Spain has 22,628 seminarians. A survey of more than 17,000 of these showed that roughly 25% were from large cities, another 25% from small towns, and the remaining 50% from rural areas. A similar survey of seminarians on an economic basis disclosed that out of 17,053 seminarians whose backgrounds were investigated 917 were from the upper class, 8,698 fr6m the middle class, and 7,438 from the lower class. ÷ ÷ ÷ Prev~ws VOLUME 21, 1962 51 ÷ ÷ ¥iews, News, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS The article also furnishes some data on the number of non-Catholics in Spain (including, therefore, Jews and Orthodox). In 1960 there were between 15,561 and 18,716 non-Catholics in Spain divided among fourteen different religious groups. The largest single group is that of the Plymouth Brethren who in 1960 counted between 4,815 and 5,615 membex;s. Missionary Bishops of the World L'Osservatore Romano oJ May 18, 1961, provides statis-tics on the number and origin of missionary bis.hops throughout the world (exclusive of missionary auxiliary bishops). As of May 15, 1961, there were 196 such bishops in Africa, 64 in the Americas, 153 in Asia, 8 in Europe, and 55 in Oceania, making a total of 476. Of these 289 were born in Europe, 54 in the Americas, 73 in Asia, 32 in Af-rica, and 28 in Oceania. The above figures do not take into account data for countries dominated by Communism. Twenty-Year Index A twenty-year index to REviEw FOR REI~e~OtJS is in preparation. The proposed index will have four parts: author-title index of articles; subject index; author-title index of book reviews; and a canon law index. It is hoped that the index will be ready by the end of 1962. New African Congregation According to International Fides Service of September 2, 1961, a new congregation of religious women was founded in December, 1960, in the diocese of Luluabourg in Africa. On August 22, 1961, the first.four members of the congregation received their habits; and a new postulant was received at the same time. The new congregation is called by the name of the Sisters of the Immaculate Heart of Mary. Guide to Meetings A recent publication of the National Catholic Educa-tional Association will prove useful to those engaged in education. Entitled Calendar of Meetings of 195 National and Educational Associations, 1961-62, it lists by date meetings that have been scheduled for the present aca-demic year. The publication is available for seventy-five cents from NCEA Research Office, 1785 Massachusetts Avenue, N.W., Washington 6, D.C. [The following answers are given by Father Joseph F. Gallen, s.J., professor of canon law at Woodstock College, Woodstock, Maryland.] Shou

Issue 41.3 of the Review for Religious, May/June 1982. ; REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1982 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year; $17.00 ~'or two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year; $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. Joseph F. Gallen, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Book Editor Questions and Answers Editor Assistant Editor May/June, 1982 Volume 41 Number 3 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. Questions for answering should be sent to Joseph ~. Gallen, S.J.; Jesuit Community; St. Joseph's University; City Avenue at 54th St.; Philadelphia, PA 19131. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from RE~:IEW FOR RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, MI 48106. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses Robert F. Morneau Bishop Morneau has commented in this s~me format on two earlier encyclicals: Redemptor Hominis (March, 1980) and Dives in Misericordia (September, 1981). Together with his service as Auxiliary Bishop of Green Bay, Bishop Morneau also serves through the Ministry to Priests Program where he may be addressed: 1016 N. Broadway: De Pere, Wl 54115. Several years ago Studs Terkel published a series of masterfully conducted interviews under the title of Working. People from various fields of life reflected candidly on the meaning or lack of meaning that work had in their lives. What fascinates the reader is the blatant honesty of'those interviewed; they told it the way they experienced it. With deep feeling and perceptive observation, the work-ing people revealed the movement~ of their mind and heart. On September 14, 1981, Pope John Paul II shared his third encyclical letter, Laborem Exercens, with the world. This papal document focuses on the topic of work, that human activity at once so universally experienced and yet so frequently devoid of meaning. What Terkel did on the experiential level, the Holy Father does on the reflective level. We do not find personal interviews with the rank and file but, from a scriptural and faith point of view, a description of the theological underpinning of our obligation to work. Within this perspective he discusses many questions: the nature and meaning of work; the relationship of work to the person, family and society; how work is influenced by various ideologies; the duty and rights of the worker; a spirituality of work. Rather than delineate detailed and specific policies, the encyclical is concerned with articulating certain principles and guidelines to govern the formation of policy for specific situations. When these principles are adequately and properly applied, work helps to build up the world community and becomes a means of safeguarding the humanity of all. These reflections of the Holy Father are extremely relevant. In an age when technology can so easily control the course of history we must hear over and over 322/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 again the principle that people have primacy ox)er things. In a period of history that takes for granted exploitation and manipulation as acceptable life-styles, we must have confirmation that persons are ends and not means. In our rapidly moving century that gives low priority to quiet and reflective times, it is healthy to have our attention drawn to an awareness of the importance of rest within the spirituality of work. Written on the ninetieth anniversary of Leo XlIl's Rerum Novarum, this present encyclical continues to remind us of the importance of these social questions and the function that the Church plays in their solution in public life. Theme 1: The Meaning and Dignity of Work Thesis: Work is an active process by which creative and productive persons gain dominion over the earth and achieve fullness as human beings. Understood as a process whereby man and the human race subdue the earth, work corres-ponds to this basic biblical concept only when throughout the process man manifests himself and confirms himself as the one who "dominates" (6). Work is a good thing for man--a good thing for his humanity--because throughout work man not only transforms nature, adapting it to his own needs, but he also achieves fulfillment as a human being and indeed, in a sense, becomes ~more a human being" (9). Man must work, both because th~ Creator has commanded it and because of his humanity. which requires work in order to be maintained and developed. Man must work out of regard for others, especially his own family, but also for the society he belongs to. the country of which he is a member, since he is the heir to the work of generations and at the same time a sharer in building the future of those who will come after him in the succession of history (16). The farmer gazes out on newly acquired property and perceives the rocks, tree stumps and weeds; a year later that same farmer, after much labor, rejoices in an autumn harvest of grain. The artist sits before a small mound of clay: many hours later a finely crafted vessel receives the accolades of admiring friends. The steel worker feeds the furnace kno.wing that when the final product is completed, beams of steel will be available for buildings and bridges. The human person, taking the many resources of the world, fashions them into useful and beautiful objects in the meeting of human needs. This process, both creative and productive, brings order out of chaos. The newly won unity fills the human spirit with a sense of meaning, peace and joy. A radical call to all of us is the call to become human persons. Within that universal vocation work plays a necessary and significant part. Only when we thoughtfully expend the energy given to us do we develop our potential and actualize our gifts. Work and growth demand that we participate in this venture of becoming human. Gifts unemployed atrophy. Needs unmet cause suffering. Lack of human development means boredom and despair. Emerson knew the value of work and its effect on human growth: I hear, therefore, with joy whatever'is beginning to be said of dignity and necessity of labor to every citizen. There is virtue yet in the hoe and the spade; for learned as well as for the Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses / 323 unlearned hands.* This labor must be balanced and rational, respecting individuals and allowing for personal fulfillment. History provides evidence that when certain forms of work do not have these qualities human beings are dehumanized and even destroyed. In his perceptive' and challenging philosophical treatise, Leisure, the Basis of Culture, the neo-Thomist Josef Pieper describes "workism" as an attitude and ideology that disregards the essential natureof work. Pieper's argument is that work is meaningful only when the human person's dignity is fully appreciated and when the activity of work is complemented by a certain receptivity towards life which is called contemplation. The present encyclical also protects this balance and perspective. Theme 2: The Subjective and Objective Dimensions of Work Thesis: The subjective dimension of work (the dignity of the human person)always has priority over the objective dimension (productivity). The very process of "subduing the earth," that is to say work. is marked in the course of history, and especially in recent centuries; by an immense development of technological means. This is an advantageous and positive phenomenon, on condition that the objective dimension of work does not gain the upper hand over the subjective dimension, depriving man of his dignity and inalienable rights or reducing them (10). ¯. man's dominion over the earth is achieved in and by means of work. There thus emerges the meaning of work in an objective sense, which finds expression in the various epochs of culture and civilization. Man dominates the earth by the very fact of domesticating animals, rearing them and obtaining from them food and clothing he needs, arid by the fact of being able to extract various natural resources from the earth and the seas (5). As a person, man is therefore the subject of work. As a person he works, he performs various actions belonging to the work process: independently of their objective content, these actions must all serve to realize his humanity, to fulfill the calling to be a person that ig'his by reason of his very humanity (6). Work always involves a person, a process and a product. The language of the encyclical refers to the person as the subject of Work (the subjective dimension) while the product is the object of work (the objective dimension). This distinction is important: a product does not have interiority, nor is it a center of thought and love. On the other hand, the human person is spiritual, immortal and called to fullness of life in God. The process of work can take such a direction so as to make a person play the role of a mere tool (cog in the machine). The focus is on productivity. Such a procedure, used in the work world dehumanizes the person and negates the Christian meaning of work. Unfortunately, hi~tory records too many years of such abuse. The Holy Father's analysis of work contains an implicit anthropology, one ~'The American Scholar," in The Selected Writings of Ralph Waldo Emerson. ed. Brooks Atkinson (New York: The Modern Library, 1940), p. 55. ~124 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 that has the highest regard for the fullness of human life. Every person has both an inner and outer agenda. Meister Eckhart describes it this way: There are people who squander the strength of their souls in the ouiward man. These are the people, all of whose desires and thoughts turn on transient goods, since they are unaware of the inner person. Sometimes a good man robs his outward person of all the soul's agents, in o'rder to dispatch them on some higher enterprise; so. conversely animal people rob the inner person of the soul's agents and assign them to the outward man. A man may be ever so active outwardly and still leave the inner man unmoved and passive.-~ Both the outer and inner dimensions of work need protection and a sensitive balance. Each has its own unique value. If they are not integrated, a person either "sells his soul to the company store" or falls into a type of narcissism which destroys communal responsibility. Persons have dignity which must not be denied; the work process must be respected as part of God's plan; human life is impossible without those products which meet essential needs. Proper priority and balance in reference to the subjective and objective dimen-sions of work are maintained when reverence is present amongpeople. Only when we stand in awe of every person, only when we hold sacred the gifts of air, water and land, only when we carefully consider the inner dynamism and value of the creative process will we truly appreciate work. Goethe reminds us: "The shudder of ,awe is humanity's highest faculty." This papal docume.nt contains that "shudder of awe.'" Whenever we encounter the handiwork of God, human or otherwise, we bow before the Creator's reflection. The person, the imago Dei, the creative pro-cess and end product of our work demand appropriate respect. Theme 3: The Value Scale of Work Thesis: Work involves three spheres of values: 1)a personal value bringing dignity to the individual; 2) a family value forming the foundation of communal life; and 3) a societal value enriching the common good. It (workJ is not only good in the sense that it is useful or something to enjoy; it is also good as being someth!ng worthy, that is to say, something that corresponds to man's dignity, that expresses this dignity and increases it. If one wishes to define more clearly the ethical meaning of work. it is this truth that one must particularly keep in mind Work constitutes a foundation for the formation of family life. which is a natural right and something that man is called to . In a way, work is a condition for making it possible to found a family, since the family requires the means of subsistence which man normally gains through work. Work and industriousness also influence the whole process of education in the family, for the very reason that everyone "becomes a human being" through, among other things, work. and becoming a human being is precisely the main purpose of the whole process of education (10). ¯. it (society) is also a great historical and social incarnation of the work of all generations. All of this brings it about that man combines his deepest human identity with membership of a nation, and intends his work also to increase the common good developed together with his '-Meister Eckhart, trans. Raymond B. Blakncy (Ne~' York: Harper Torchbooks). p. 87. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses compatriots, thus realizing that in this way work serves to add to the heritage of the whole human family, of all the people living in the world (10). The valuing process determines life. Values lead to an internal judgment which in turn dictates actions. The degree of worth we assign to individuals and things has far-reaching consequences. Within the complex va.luing system, work plays a major role since it touches personal lives, family life, and even national and international communities. The value assigned to work in these three areas will affect, for good or ill, the course of history. Family life remains a pivotal force in society, That life is threatened by an increasing number of divorces, the current mobility and the impact of the mass media. Unemployment is another threat which can lead to "social disaster" (18). Further, inadequate wages deprive the family of essential goods; lack of proper benefits increase anxiety; dissatisfaction with one's job has an impact on spouse and children. Work has a wider circle than just family life--it influences all of society. When people are given proper.job opportunities the common good is served and society is healthy. When work fosters a sense of cooperation among employees and employers, a new spirit of solidarity is felt in the wide? society. When work is done so that future generations will be served and helped by conserving our resources and protecting our, environment, society ,is being given responsible models. We have reached a point where this type of social consciousness can no longer remain merely a hope; if it does not become a fact, our society may well be doomed. Few people can grow interiorly without a sense of achievement. When work is done well, confidence and a sense of self-worth increase. Further, in fulfilling the commandment of God that we do work, we contribute to God's plan. The brick we add has eternal significance; no one else can do the work assigned to us. A prayer attributed to Cardinal Newman conveys the importance and the enigma of each person's work: ~ God has created me to do him some definite service: he has committed some work to me which he has not committed to another. I have my mission--I may never know it in this life. but I shall be told it in the next. 1 am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good, I shall do his work. I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place while not intending it--if I do but keep his commandments. Therefore 1 will trust him. Whatever. wherever I am. I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve him: in perplexity, my perplexity may serve him: if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve him. He does nothing in vain. He knows what he is about. He may take away my friends. He may throw me among strangers. He may hide my future from me--still he knows what he is about. Theme 4: Work and the Mystery of Creation Thesis: Work is inextricably bound up with the mystery of God's creative activity: each person shares in the wonder of creation through work. The knowledge that by means of work man shares in the work of creation constitutes the 326 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 most profound motive for undertaking it in various sectors 125). In every phase of the development of his work man comes up against the leading role of the gift made by '*nature." that is. in the final analysis, by the Creator. At the beginning of man's work is the mystery of creation. This affirmation, already indicated as my starling point, is the guiding thread of this document (12). The word of God's revelation is profoundly marked by the fundamen~'al truth that man, created in the image of God, shares by his work in the activity of the Creator and that, within the limits of his own human capabilities, man in a sense continues to develop that activity, and perfects it as he advances further and further in the discovery of the resources and values contained in the whole of creation (25). Two qualities identify our humanness: depende~nce and creativity. All is gift and we have an absolut~ dependence on our Creator. Humble acceptance of these faith facts sets us free. Through the creative process order is extracted from chaos, unity is chiseled out of diversity, beauty is captured in stone, word or canvass. As Ge,rald Vann remarks: The so-called industrial revolution ran its course: and ende.d by depriving the mass of men of a fundamental right, of that without which the personality is doomed to sterility and despair: the, creativity which is the counterpart of creatureliness.3 Within these two qualities of our humanness are the duty and right of work. Cooperation can be a most thrilling human experience. God longs for us to work with him in the fulfillment of the plan of salvation. Our very activity is an essential ingredient in the building of the earth and of the kingdom! The dignity of such a mission is immeasurabli~. Yet that is precisely what our scriptural and theological understanding of work indicates: the people of God continue to share in the work of creation.i The Vatican I1 document Gaudium et Spes drives home the reality that we are a Church in the modern world, an "in" that means involve-ment. Any mentality that either despises history or refuses to invest time and energy in improvement of the world goes contrary to the Scriptures and the teaching of the Church. Participation in the mystery of creation is threatened in our time. The buildup of armaments, sufficient now to many times over destroy our planet, leads many to an attitude of pessimism if not despair. Such a consciousness causes paralysis and the mission of work goes unaccomplished. The land is not tilled, book,,are not written, songs are not sung, families are not raised, conflicts are not resolved, resources are exploited. Why not? Annihilation is not only possible but likely! Suspicion is abroad: our times are less creative because of an annihilation attitude. Perhaps we can learn a lesson from Anne Frank. With bombs dropping near her hideout and with death a constant threat, she continued to study her history lesson. Life goes on! Christian faith calls us to our creative work regardless of the dark clouds that surround us. And, of course, one of the most urgent creative 3Gerald Vann, St. Thomas Aquinas (New York: Benziger Bros., 1947), p. 27. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses works is peace. Our work must bring about a world in which war becomes impossible. Theme 5: A Spirituality of Work Thesis." Work is a means by which persons grow in union with God and participate in the paschal m.vster.v. She (the Church) sees it as her particular duty to form a spirit.uality of work which will help all people to come closer, through work. to God. the Creator and Redeemer, to participate in his salvific plan for man and the world and to deepen their friendship with Christ in their lives by accepting, through faith, a living participation in his threefold mission as Priest. Prophet and King. as the Second Vatican Council so eloquently teaches (24). This Christian spirituality should be a heritage shared by all. Especially in the modern age. the spirituality of work should show the maturity called for by the tensions and restlessness of mind and heart (25). Since work in its subjective aspect is always a personal action, an actus personae, it follows that the whole person, body and spirit, participates in it, whether it is manual or intellectual work. It is also to the whole person that the word of the living God is directed, the evangelical message of salvation, in which we find many points which concern human work and which throw particular light on it. These points need to be properly assimilated: an inner effort on the part of the human spirit, guided by faith, hope and charity, is needed in order that through these points, the work of the individual human tSeing may be given the meaning which it has in the eyes of God and by means of which work enters into the salvation process on a par with the other ordinary yet particularly important components of its texture (24). The farmer brings the seeds of the field to Eucharist for a special blessing on rural life day, thereby exercising an act of faith in God as creator of the seed and provider for its growth. The newspaper editor cries out against the injustices toward the elderly, thereby fulfilling his prophetic role of denouncing all that infringes upon human dignity and freedom. The president of a country, through policies that properly distribute funds, insures that the poor and needy have their due. The people of God are scattered throughout every profession and work situation and it is precisely in that context that they exercise their spirituality. Union with God is achieved not only through liturgical worship and the celebra-tion of the sacrament. Holiness is gained as well by finding Christ in our brothers and sisters, in the working of the land, in the artistic and intellectual achievements. All of life, permeated by God's presence and love, becomes a grace opportunity and can further the process of salvation. A spirituality of work demands three things: vision, grace and commitment. An abiding vision of the divine presence is a gift of faith. Work is not restricted to the narrow sensate culture (limiting work to the confines of time/space) nor to a humanistic betterment of the world, important as that is. Rather, faith vision situates our work as an integral part of God's salvific will. Grace, the free gift of God's self-giving which transforms our minds and hearts, is the heartbeat of a spirituality for work. Empowered by the Spirit, our work has a certain quality and tonality that makes everything different. There is a freshness, newness and sense of possibility in what is done. Eventually the work will incarnate that grace as 321~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 another sign of God's favor. Further, commitment to the person of Christ by sharing in his life, death and resurrection undergirds all Christian spirituality. The paschal mystery draws us into the dying/rising process of Christian existence. Work constantly involves dying and rising; done in union wiih Christ it allows us to become the person God calls us to be. In Zorba the Greek, Nikos Kazantzakis has one of the characters describe his experience, "I at last realized that eating was a spiritual function and that meat, bread and wine were the raw materials from which the mind is made.TM No longer is there a harsh dichotomy between the secular and the sacred, the flesh and the spirit, heaven and earth. A false dualism is rejected and the unity of existence maintained. Work and worship are not mutually exclusive; they are meant to complement and enrich one another. For some workers their highest moments of prayerful praise and thanksgiving are in the midst of their work experience. A mother caring for her child, the artist sharing the masterpiece, the nurse weeping with the terminally ill, the scientist discovering a new atomic particle, the scholar articulating an insight: nurturing, creating, caring, wondering, discovering, sharing --moments of work, grounded in sacrifice, discipline and great effort, and moments of grace. All of this contributes.to a spirituality of work because to live in God's presence with sensitivity, awareness and love is to live a spiritual life. Theme 6: Work and Questions of Justice Thesis: Work plays a significant function in the justice question: there can be no justice unless work~ is available to people in such a way that basic rights and duties are protected and promoted. In order to achieve social justice in the various parts of the world, in the various countries, and in the relationships betwyen them, there is need for ever new movements of solidarity of the workers and with the workers. This solidarity must be present whenever it is called for by the social degrading of the subject of work, by exploitation of the workers, and by the growing areas of poverty and hunger (8). It must be stressed that the constitutive element in this progress and also the most adequate way to verify it in a spirit of justice and peace, which the Church proclaims and for which she does not cease to pray to the Father of all individuals' and of all peoples, is the continual reappraisal of man's work, both in the aspect of its objective finality and in the aspect of the dignity of the subject of all work, that is to say, man. The progress in question must be made through man and for man and it must produce its fruit in man. A test of this progress will be the increasingly mature recognition of the purpose of wbrk and increasingly universal respect for the rights inherent in work in conformity with the dignity of man, the subject of work (18). While work, in all its ~any senses, is an obligation, that is to say a duty, it is also a source of rights on the part of the worker. These rights must be examined in the broad context of human rights as a whole, which are connatural with man, and many of which are proclaimed by various international organizations and increasingly guaranteed by the individual States for their citizens. Respect for this broad range of human rights constitutes the fundamental condition for peace in the modern world (16). 4Nikos Ka~,antzakis, Zorba the Greek (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1952), p. 79. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses Whenever relationships are established, certain issues of justice automatically arise. By its very definition the work relationship between employer and employee presents a mutuality of duties and rights. The encyclical addresses itself primarily to threatened rights of the employee, giving little attention to the dutie.s of the employee toward the employer. Employees' rights are numerous: the right to a just wage, the right to social benefits that ensure life and health, the right to rest, the right to pension and insurance, the right to suitable working environments, the right to strike under certain circumstances, the right to form voluntary associa-tions, the right of the disabled to productive activity suited to them, the right to emigrate in search of work. The correlative list would include the duties that come to the employer or society because of these rights. This area of justice is specific and measurable; much honesty, dialogue and planning are necessary if the ideals is to be achieved. The linkage between justice and peace is dearly articulated: Commitment to justice must be closely linked with commitment to peace in the modern world (2). Respect for this broad range of human rights constitutes the fundamental condition for peace in the modern world (16). Whenever rights are denied or duties neglected,,a profound disturbance shakes the life of individuals and society at large. Theologically we call this sin, ethically we call it injustice, sociologically we call it alienation. Regardless of the language system, the experience and its consequences are clear: the order of God's plan is broken and until reconciliation comes about, until justice is done, the fragmenta-tion continues and peace is not found in the land. Mere absence of war or conflict is not peace; rather, it is an ontological state of being, experienced when relation-ships~ are properly ordered. If charity begins at home, all the more so justice. Thus the Church as an institution must constantly strive for justice and peace within her own immediate membership. The fact that the above rights reside in her own personnel imposes an obligation on the Church as employer. This "beginning at home" is significant since authenticity of teaching and preaching constantly seeks verification in prac-tice. When the Church both teaches justice and lives it, the world has a model which affirms that the realities of justice and peace are truly possible. Theme 7: Work and Various ideologies Thesis: Work demands a meaning and various interpretations are offered by Liberalism, Marxism and Christian theology. The Marxist program, based on the philosophy of Marx and Engels, sees in class struggle the only way to eliminate class injustices in society and to eliminate the classes themselves. Putting this program into practice presupposes the collectivization of the means of production so that, through the transfer of these means from private hands to the collectivity, human labor will be preserved from exploitation (11). This consistent image, in which the principle of the primacy of person over things is strictly preserved, was broken up in human thought, sometimes after a long period of incubation in practical living. The break occurred in such a way that labor was separated from capital and 33{~ Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 set m opposition to it, and capital was set in oppositioh to labor, as though they were two impersonal forces, two production factors juxtaposed in the same "economistic" perspective. This way of stating the issue contained a fundamental error, what we call the error of economism, that of considering human labor solely according to its economic purpose. This fundamental error of thought must be called an error Of materialism, in that economism directly or indirectly ~ncludes a conviction of the primary and superiority of the material, and directly or indirectly places the spiritual and the personal (man's activity, moral values and such matters) in a position of subordination to material reality (13). The only chance there seems to be for radically overcoming this error (primitive capitalism and liberalism) is through adequate changes both in theory and in practice, changes in line with the definite conviction of the primacy of the person over things, and of human labor over capital as a whole collection of means of production (13). Absolutizing is that radical instinct in thought and behavior that makes one idea or value the only idea or value. The label we attach to such a tendency is "isms": e.g., secularism holds that all reality is limited to this world--there is no transcendence; humanism measures all of life in the light of the human person-- God finds no home here; rationalism restricts valid knowledge to that gained by reason--faith vision is excluded; workism so prizes achievement and productivity that leisure (receptivity-contemplation) is meaningless if not downright evil. The encyclical deals with this proclivity to absolutize and firmly rejects certain specific "isms" that surround work. Anathema sit: Marxism that seeks a collectivism of means of production so as to infringe upon the right to private property; liberalism that fails to take into account the common good in its worship of primitive capitalism; economism that views human labor solely in terms of its economic purposes; materialism that subordinates the spiritual/personal aspects of life to material reality. Christian theology consistently seeks a balanced position that protects moral and personal and spiritual values. Thus private property is a basic' right, though the common good will severely limit this right or even exclude it under very restricted circumstances. Economic profit is necessary and justifiable but never at the expense of human dignity. Matter is part of God's creation but is subordinated to the value of the human person. The insights of Scripture and tradition are brought to bear upon the complex reality of the work world. Basic principles are articulated through careful theological reflection which provides a theory that will hopefully inform our action. The Church is not reluctant to speak out with a strong prophetic voice whenever there is encroachment upon the rights of people, be that encroachment by employer or employee. Jacob Bronowski states that "without astronomy it is really not possible to find your way over great distances, or even to have a theory about the shape of the earth and the land and sea oh it."~ Part of the Church's mission is to provide a theologicalastronomy by which the complex components of life can be assessed and prudently judged. The present papal document serves a timely purpose: it ~Jacob Bronowski, The Ascent of Man (Boston: Little, Brown and Company, 1973), p. 190. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses articulates a theology and a spirituality from which to observe and practice the command of God that we work, thereby building up a more human community and furthering the growth of the kingdom. Such an astronomy is no luxury, it is an absolute necessity. Theme 8: Work and its Abuse Thesis: Work, which is meant to humanize and develop persons, can become destructive when means become ends. ¯. it {the anlinomy between labor and capital) originated in the whole of the economic and social practice of that time, the time of the birth and rapid development of industrialiTation, in which what was mainly seen was the possibility of vastly increasing material wealth, means while the end, that is to say, man, who should be served by the means, was ignored (13). The primary basis of the value of work is man himself, who is its subject. This leads imme-diately to a very important conclusion of an ethical nature: however true it may be that man is destined for work and called to it, in the first place work is "for man"and not man "for work" (6}. The very process of "subduing the earth." that is to say work. is marked in the course of history and especially in recent centuries, by an immense development of technological means. This is an advantageous and positive phenomenon, on condition that the objective dimension of work does not gain the upper hand over the subjective dimension, depriving man of his dignity and inalienable rights or reducing them (i0). A gospel question focuses our attention: is man made for the Sabbath or the Sabbath for man? Jesus had to deal with the means/end question and there is nothing unclear about his answer: the Sabbath is .made for man. Ambiguity characterizes some contemporary questions arising from the world of work: What is the relationship between technology and the human person? What status does the individual have in large multinational corporations? When transfers are made, what "considerations are given to the worker's family? If profits will be less but the work situation is more humanizing, what kinds of decisions are made? Is man made for work or work for man? Historically the document states that certain means have usurped the prerogatives of the end; technology (means) has become the master and the human person (end), the slave. At this juncture, justice and peace are no more. The whole order is overturned, human freedom is lost. Simone Weil, a strong prophetic voice for the ~,alue of work in the first half of this century, worked in factories so as to experientially learn the workers' situation. Her experience was not a happy one: workers were dehumanized because they were treated simply as cogs in a large, productive m~chine. Upon reading Homer's Iliad, she extracts a universal truth about evil that applies to our present discussion: Thus in this ancient and wonderful poem there already appeared the essential evil besetting humanity, the substitution of means for ends.6 ~The Simone Weil Reader. ed, George A. Panichas (New York: David McKay Company, Inc., 1977), p. 138. 3~12 / Review for Religious, Ma.v-June, 1982 What is so horrendous is that often this process of evil is unconscious and unin-tended. The means we use for produiztivity are happily introduced. Suddenly we wake up one morning and come to realize, that we are controlled by the very process we devised. The underlying question is one of freedom, a freedom that protects our humanity and a freedom to use tools of production wisely. Such a freedom comes only from hard-won knowledge: we cannot make prudent choices when ignorant of facts and circumstances. Education is of greatest importance here. All people involved in the working community must maintain a high level of attentiveness to attitudes, means of production, societal tendencies, subtle shifts in values. The means/end dilemma must not be blurred. Melville, in his classic Moby Dick, comments that "ignorance is the parent of fear."7 Societal fears often arise because we are ignorant of the proper relationship between means and end. With increased knowledge we are hopeful that fear will be dissipated and our freedom regained. Theme 9: Work and the Common Good Thesis: Work, through the use of natural and personal resources, is an essential force to achieve the common good. ¯. society--even when it has not yet taken on the mature form of a nation--is not only the great ~educator" of every man, even though an indirect one (because each individual absorbs within the family the contents and values that go to make up the culture of a given nation): it is also a great historical and social incarnation of the work of all generations. All of this brings it about that man combines his deepest human identity with membership of a nation, and intends his work also to increase the cor~mon good developed together with his compatriots, thus realizing that in this way work serves to add to the heritage of the whole human family, of all the people living in the world (16). Rational planning and the proper organization of human labor in keeping with individual societies and States should also facilitate the discovery of the right proportions between the different kinds of employment: work on the land. in industry, in the various services, white-collar work and scientific or artistic work, in accordance with the capacities of individuals: and for the common good of each society and of the whole of mankind (18). Here we must return once more to the first principle of the whole ethical and social order. namely, the principle of the common use of goods. In every system, regardless of the funda-mental relationships within it between capital and labor, wages, that is to say remuneration for work, are still a practical means whereby the vast majority of people have access to those goods which are intended for common use: both the good of nature and manufactured goods (19). In the document Gaudium et Spes, the fathers of the Second Vatican Council described the common good in these terms: Now. the common good embraces the sum of those conditions of social life by which individuals, families and groups can achieve their own fulfillment in a relatively thorough and ready way (74). 7Herman Melville, Moby Dick (New York: The Literary Guild of America, Inc., 1949), p. 17. Laborem Exercens: Themes and Theses / 333 Although somewhat nebulous in the abstract, the common good is extremely concrete and pragmatic in experience. Yet certain cultural attitudes towards pri-vate goods and vested self-interest make it difficult for the relationship between work and the common good to be properly understood. One such attitude regards comm~on good items (parks, public buildings, and so forth) as areas of exploita-tion, with no sense of personal responsibility for their upkeep or cleanliness. A mentality of privatized ownership threatens the realization of the common good. Through work 1 will take as much as 1 can without any thought of.making my contribution to the commonweal. Various writers8 are beginning to articulate a public theology and notions of a church which help to provide a vision for the protection of the common good through responsible work and concern. Several years ago there was a global experience that had the potentiality to develop social consciousness for the common good. For the first time in history, through the technology of cameras, we saw ourselves, the planet earth, from the moon. Hurling through space, like people on a small raft, brought us a realization that we are all in this together. The activity of one affects the activity of all. Responsible Work and sharing enriches the human family; failure to do so dimin-ishes and deprives people of quality life. Perhaps the moon photograph has been blurred already and the strong sense of interdependence to which we are called has been obscured by innate avariciousness. Is work done primarily for profit and personal gain? Have we forgotten the common good or disregarded it as some utopian dream? Two types of people have been known throughout history as truly human and noble: people of compassion and people of hospitality. The former have a heart that is moved deeply by the joys and sufferings of others. A'basic affinity with human experience resides deep within the being of compassionate people. Hospi-tality, that gracious welcoming of the stranger-into personal space and time, creates an environment in which the common good is realized. Regardless of.one's employment, the work~ of compassion and hospitality are universal vocations and only when they are exercised, thus producing the common good, do individual goods have any value whatever. The paradox of the gospel grain of wheat is lived again. Theme I0: Work and Communily Thesis: Work builds community by uniting people into a powerful solidarity. In fact. the family is simultaneously a community made possible by work and the first school of work, within the home, for every person (10). The call to solidarity and common action addressed to the worker--especially to those engaged in narrowly specialized, monotonous and depersonalized work in industrial plants, when the machine tends to dominate man--was important and eloquent from the point of sSee Martin E. Marty's The Public Church (New York: Crossroad, 1981)and Parker J. Palmer's The Company o.f Strangers (New York: Crossroad. 198 I). 334 / Review for Religious, Ma.v-June, 1982 view of social ethics. It was the reaction against the degradation of man as the subject of work, and against the unheard-of accompanying exploitation in the fields of wages, working condi-tions and social security for the worker. This reaction united the working world in a commu-nity marked by great solidarity (8). It is characteristic of work that it first and foremost unites people. In this consists its social power: the power to build a community. In the final analysis, both those who work and those who manage the means of production or who own them must in some way be united in this community 120). Communities are formed when there is a common sense of identity, when there is a commitment to a specific value system, when lives are shared by mutual experience. Many work situations have these three qualities. A good schobl faculty know who they are, are committed to truth and its various expressions, and share lives professionally and, to some degree, socially. A professional sports team working together for several years establishes a strong communal bond. Work has the potential to unite people and form community, i.e., a style of work that is balanced and. person centered. What is intriguing is that often the bond of com-munity happens without conscious planning; it is a side effect of deep c6operation. Human life is complex. Like a spider's web, there are many intersecting lines in our relationships and in our multiple communities, e.g., The community to which I belong is, of course, not a static one. Sometimes it is the commu-nity of my wife and myself and my family: at other times that of my relations, of my friends, of my work colleagues, of my city or nation or international grouping. My task in each different community varies according to the particular community I am being consciously part of at any time. In some communities, I am a key figure: in others, of lesser or minimal importance. But in all of them I have a function, a duty and a responsibility and I believe I will be judged on my performance of these at the end of my time. Often I do not know exactly what that function is--but I know that basically it is to be a harmonizing influence, a peacemaker, a go-between, a catalyst, a bringer-out of good qualities in others for the sake of a group.'~ This vision of community and work depicts the range of groupings in one's life and the specific functions that we are to play. The notion of facilitator may accurately describe "the work" (the process of life itself) that will build any community. We facilitate relationships by bringing love and concern which, in turn, bring about peace and oneness. The Gospel of John states that God is always working. Jesus presents himself as the waiter, serving at table those who come for life-giving food. The thrust behind this work is community, to build and complete the Fi~ther's kingdom. Thus the dignity of the vocation of work becomes clear: as co-worker with the Lord we participate in the process of reconciliation, bringing all creation back to the Father. Whatever our task in life, however sublime or humble, we lovingly accept the charge given us and contribute to the realization of the Father's plan. Adveniat regnum ! ~On the Run: Spirituality for the Seventies, ed. by Michael F. McCauley (Chicago: The Thomas More Association. 1974). p. 138. Reflections on Leadership in the Spirit of Jesus Cecilia Murphy, R.S.M. Sister Cecilia Murphy is the President of the Sisters of Mercy of Pittsburgh. In the issue of January, 1976, Sister shared her reflections on the chapter experience of her community. In the present article, a talk given at their congregational meeting of March, 1982, she reflects on her experience of leadership in her community. Sister Cecilia resides at 3333 Fifth AveA Pittsburgh, PA 15213. Living leadership in the spirit of Jesus is a challenge to every Christian. Each follower of Jesus is called to "come after Jesus" and to show others the way. Those called to leadership in a religious congregation of Mercy bear a special responsibil-ity in this matter. How can anyone fulfill this task? My reflections on this topic are a result of trying to "bone it'--trying to dig into the essential and offer some thoughts on what is necessary for leadership in Jesus' spirit. We know Jesus through faith--faith in God's word and sacraments; faith in our personal experiences of Jesus. We know from Scripture that Jesus poured himself out for our sakes and that he taught us how to live. The commitment of our lives and our personal prayer have helped us know experientially who Jesus is, how he loves, what he asks of us: Faith, then, is the first essential for leadership. Things are not always clear and efisy, and the felt presence of the Lord is a special and temporary gift. So, the leader needs to pray for a strong faith-life, to make acts of faith, and to live in faith, believing in God's love and fidelity. Sorting out and probing the purpose of life, religious life, and its values are essential to leaders. These exercises focus leaders on "the one thing necessary." They help to keep clear the purpose of religious community and enable leaders to be conscious of the motives, fears, and choices that are operative in life. Jesus probed the meaning of life by withdrawing from others and praying to his Father in secret. Exposure to solitude and openness to God's ways are integral parts of searching. These opportunities enable leaders to be like the violinist who carefully 335 ~136 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 tunes the instrument before a symphony. Reflection enables the leader to "be in tune" with the divine pitch. Without confidence in God, religious leadership is impossible. The counsel that Catherine McAuley took to heart, to pray as if everything depended on God and act as if everything depended on us, was not only common sense, it was an inspired statement. As Jesus was ever conscious of his Father's power, so must a leader be! All works concerned with the human spirit are beyond human control. Leaders cannot change another pers6n; God reserves that to himself. Yet a leader is called to use all her human potential to create the best environment, and also to pray in confidence, knowing that God's work is ultimately carried out by God-- sometimes through her. Belief in the value of suffering is an essential for a religious leader. Jesus suffered and died. Our congregation was founded on Calvary; there are no easy roads to Mount Tabor. In each human life suffering is present, but Christians are challenged to "take up the cross." Leaders must attempt to follow the Master to Calvary. The particular kinds of suffering which best make an individual an image of Jesus are known only to the Lord. For the leader, however, many of these have something to do with various kinds of poverty. One form 6f poverty is that of spirit, "Why me, Lord?" the leader asks. "There are others holier, more insightful, more loving, more intelligent, more capable, Why me?" And'the Lord replies, "It was not because you are great but because I am great and want to use your nothingness. Don't question my choice--just cooperate." There is the poverty of unfulfilled expectations--those of the leader and those of other members. Unconsciously, leaders sometimes set expectations for them-selves which could not be fulfilled by five people, let alone one. Consider, then, the 335 members of our congregation, multiply by five, and you will have a sense of the number of expectations placed on a leader. The sense of poverty in facing all these unfulfilled expectations is a cause of great suffering. Dealing in realms beyond one's experience and capabilities creates a sense of poverty. Learning about finances, management, interacting with corporate leaders can cause a sense of being entirely out of one's element. Like Ruth, the leader must try to adapt to alien lands, to grow in new knowledge and allow the pinch of human limitations to be felt. There is the poverty of being in an "iceberg ministry." When 1 ask myself what 1 do, it is very hard to define. So much of a leader's ministry is confidential or invisible to others and sometimes to herself. Members of the congregation may wonder why all the paper communications keep filtering into a small community and exclaim, "Another paper from the Mount!" However, some leader may have worked hours trying to simplify and clarify ideas so that they could be shared with (he membership. Dialogue and interaction with members are an important part of leadership but they, too, are invisible parts of the iceberg. Leaders need. to laugh. Although the gospels do not record Jesus as laughing, we can be sure, since we are made in his image, that Jesus did enjoy life. He had Reflections on Leadership special friends, the disciples. He went off with them, shared special meals with them. Without doubt he must have often suppressed a laugh as he experienced their human condition. Leaders, too, need to relax, to have friends, to take time to unwind and be "at home" with family. Rest is a requirement for all human persons and so must leaders be renewed and refreshed. Refreshment help~ one maintain balance--an essential for leadership. Our "Government Synthesis Statement" makes explicit a tension that is inherent in leadership, the tension between internal and external concerns. How does one balance the call to broader church and civic leadership with the need to provide for the growth and development of the membership? There is no answer to that question, only the ongoing struggle to live authentically in that tension. As Jesus lived the tension of the Agony in the Garden, he prayed for the accomplishment of the Father's will. He prayed for courage to fulfill his mission. Leaders need courage, a courage which is strengthened by conviction; made more difficult by uncertainty. In relating to individuals and the total congregation, the leader needs courage to risk--risk to be wrong even when acting in good faith. Leaders can make mistakes and they need courage to face mistakes honestly. Tomorrow's leaders will also need courage to fulfill our "Government Synthe-sis Statement" which calls them to use our corporate power on behalf of the poor. This challenge will take courage and wisdom on the part of the leaders and generosity and willingness for conversion on the part of the membership. As Jesus listened to Nicodemus, so a leader must listen to God, the members, the Church, the world. Jesus was a sensitive listener when he attempted to deal with the needs of others. In Jesus the leader has the perfect model of attentive listening and response to others. Leadership in religious congregations requires a deep realization of the divine help that comes from the prayers of the sisters. Likewise it calls forth a daily prayer: "Glory to him whose power working in me can do infinitely more than 1 can ask or imagine!" Tedium and Burnout in Religious Life Mary Elizabeth Kenel Dr. K(nel, as well as maintaining a private practice in Washington, is a field supervisor in the pastoral counseling program of Loyola College in Baltimore. She may be addressed at 901 Perry Place, N.E.: Washington; DC 20017. In recent years mu~ch of the research in the area of social psychology has focused on the phenomena of tedium and burnout, primarily as these apply to the workers in the human services fields. These phenomena are by no means limited to members of these groups, however, and researchers are investigating burnout at various phases of the life cycle: the tedium experienced by college students, burn-out in marriage and parenting, and that demonstrated in the mid-life and mid-career crises. Everyone at some time or another is vulnerable to the stresses of tedium and burnout and religious are no exception. Indeed, the very qualities that are com-mon to those aspiring to religious life and a ministry of service tend to render religious as a group vulnerable to the burnout syndrome. The term "burnout" was first introduced by Herbert J. Freudenberger~ in his articles on staff burnout in the help-giving inst.itutions. Since that time a number of other authors have made use of the term and have given it various definitions. Edelwich2 defines burnout as a progressive loss of idealism, energy, and purpose experienced by people in the helping professions as a result of the conditions of their work. Pines and Aronson3 define tedium as the experience of physical, ~ Freudenberger, H. J. "Staff Burn-out," Journal of Social Issues, 1974, 30(I) pp. 159-165. 2Edelwich, J., Burn-Out, Stages of Disillusionment in the Helping Professions. Human Sciences Press, New York, 1980. p. 14. ~Pines, A. M. and Aronson, E., Burnout, From Tedium to Personal Growth, The Free Press, New York. 1981. p. 15. 338 Tedium and Burnout in Religious Life emotional and mental exhaustion characterized by emotional and physical deple-tion and by the negation of one's self, one's environment, one's work, and even one's life. They consider burnout to be identical to tedium in definition and symptoms but apply the term particularly to those who work with people in situations that are emotionally demanding. While both tedium and burnout are accompanied by a constellation of symp-toms that include fatigue, lack of enthusiasm, and feelings of helplessness and hopelessness, burnout may be thought of as a state of mind that afflicts those individuals whose work requires that they pour in much more than they get in return, be that return from clients, patients, students, superiors or peers. The dedicatory nature of the vows can set the stage for burnout. Take, for example, a motto instilled during a novitiate instruction: "Chastity loves without seeking a return." A literal interpretation and acceptance of such an ideal can readily lead to burnout as the religious' energies are depleted over time. One of the biggest difficulties with the concept of burnout, however, is that it has become fashionable, a new item in the evergrowing dictionary of psychobab-ble. Burnout as such has no formal psychiatric status and, indeed, many would see it as depression. The literature, however, tends more and more to distinguish between the two concepts and relates burnout to the environmental stresses under which a person works rather than to intrapsychic forces. The onset of tedium/burnout is rarely the result of a single traumatic or disillusioning event. More typically it is the result of a gradual erosion of strength and spirit. Edelwich,4 for example, recognizes a series.of stages that range from idealistic enthusiasm to apathy. The victims of burnout tend to be those who had once been amoiag the most idealistic and ardent, those who at one time were most enthusiastic and joyful. This is hardly surprising, for nearly every author in the field has noted that in order to burn out one must have been on fire at some point. It is the intent of the remainder of this article to examine the antecedents to burnout and tedium as well as to examine the stages of development that lead fr9m enthusiasm to apathy. To the extent that individual religious and communi-ties can recognize and anticipate burnout they will be better able to avoid the ineffectual, wishful remedies that are often practiced and seek more realistic coping mechanisms. A positive ~pproach to the problems of tedium and burnout, then, will not be based on the hope of total prevention which is almost impossible to achieve, but on the realization that it will happen, even repeatedly, and must be dealt with on an ongbing basis. As with any other life crisis, burnout can be turned to advantage in that it can energize a person to break out of a rut. Creative use of frustration can become a stimulus to the kind of enthusiasm it generally erodes. Antecedents to Burnout Research5 on the phenomenon of burnout as it applies to human service 4Edelwich, J. op. cir. pp. 28-29. 5Pines, A. M., and Aronson, E. op cir., pp. 48-54. 3tll~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 workers has identified three common antecedents that would apply equally well to religious. 1. Work That Is Emotionally Demanding In the human serVice professions people work with others in situations that are emotionally draining over long periods of time, during which they are exposed to their clients' physical, social, and psychological problems and are expected to be both skillful and concerned. A similar expectation is placed on priests, brothers and sisters in virtue of their religious profession, in addition, members of religious groups are frequently actively engaged in human service occupations such as teaching, nursing, and counseling. Think, for example then, of the emotional toll of working with the terminally ill, with the mentally ill, with those who have lost loved ones--especially when one's religious profession means one is also expected to explain "God's Will" in these situations. 2. Characteristics of the Professionals Themselves Pines and Aronson6 note that in the human services the occupational task acts as a screening device that attracts people with particular types of personal attrib-utes. The same is true of religious life. Think of the adjectives used to describe priests and religious in terms of the concept of mirfistry. Words such as dedicated, service, and other-oriented are frequently mentioned. 3. Client-Centered Orientation As is the case for members of human services teams, religious focus on people receiving their service. The role of provider of help, understanding, and support is defined by the client's needs with relatively little attention paid to the needs of the professional or the religious. A strictly client-centered orientation does not permit a symmetrical relationship of mutual give and take. Instead a complementary relationship is set up in which the religious or human service worker is expected to give while the client receives. Common to both situations is a dedicatory ethic that elevates service motives and presents work not merely as a "job" but as a "voca-tion" or "calling" in which the reward is supposed to be inherent in the giving. The Prayer of Saint Francis captures this thought: "It is in giving that we receive . 4. Other Antecedents to Burnout In addition to those areas delineated by Pines and Aronson there are a number of other antecedents to burnout that need to be considered. One is that of a lack of criteria for measuring one's accomplishment. There is sufficient difficulty in attempting to define accomplishments in the therapeutic field. How much more so in th6 religious life. How does one define one's success as nPines, A. M. and Aronson. E. ibid., pp. 51-52. Tedium and Burnout in Religious Ltfe 311"1 a "religious"? Does one play the "numbers game"---how many converts, baptisms, hours of donated service? And if there are no hard-and-fast criteria for success, how then does one set standards for reviewing one's life and work? Another source of difficulty lies in the area of career advancement. Far too often the religious who has entered upon a particular form of active ministry because of a desire to work with people is "promoted" to an administrative posi-tion that. while enlarging his or her sphere of influence, many times results in loss of client contact and ultimately in loss of job satisfaction. Antecedents to Tedium While religious life itself is a form of other-oriented profession in which many members actually do work in the human services area, it also has a bureaucratic and hierarchical structure and as such shares many of the antecedents of tedium found in business or government organizations. The literature describes organizational structure as a major determinant of job performance, satisfaction, and tedium.7 Pines and Aronson8 identified three major antecedents of tedium. 1. Overload Overload is a key concept in studies of job stress and its effect on health and can be viewed as having objective/,su.bjective and quantitative/quali!ative dimen-sions. Objective overload refers to the actual volume of work to be processed per unit of time while subjective overload refers to the person's feeling that there is too much work to be done or that it is too hard. Quantitative overload implies that one actually has more real work than can be handled per unit time. Qualitative overload, on the other hand, indicates that the work load demands skills, knowl-edge or training exceeding that of the person assigned a given task. That objective, quantitative overlo.ad is part and parcel of the daily life of most religious hardly needs mentioning. Schedules tend to be full to overflowing and many a prayer has been offered for a few extra hours in the day as well as another pair of hands. Qualitative overload, however, may be even more stressful in the long run and more likely to induce tedium. In a situation of qualitative overload unrealistic ex, pectations are placed on an individual or group who must then deal not merely with the realities of the workload but with a sense of inadequacy and personal failure when it becomes impossible to live up to those "great expecta-. tions." Fortunately, in more recent years superiors and formation personnel have attempted to see to it that people are trained prior to placement in a specific position. With personnel shortages, however, it is tempting to appeal to the per- 7Armstrong. K. 1. "'How Can We Avoid Burnout. Child Abuse and Neglect: Issues in Innovation and Implementation." DHEW Publication #(OHDS) 78-30148. 2(1978). pp. 230-238. ~Pines. A. M. and Aronson. E. op cir. pp. 67-72. 3t12 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 son's "generosity and sense of mission" and propel him or her into a position for which he or she is unprepared and in which he or she expends tremendous energy simply to "stay afloat." 2: I~ek of Autonomy In any area of life, lack of control over one's environment is a highly stressful experience and frequently enough leads to the learned helplessness phenomenon observed by Seligman.9 In this depressed state the person tends !o attribute success to "luck" or "chance" or other forces outside his or her control while accepting full responsibility for failures. A perceived lack of autonomy and the frustration resulting from such a lack is a common cause of tedium in organizations of all types, .for job satisfaction declines as the individual is more burdened by unnecessary rules and red tape and lacks voice in decisions that affect the job and his or her life. Lack of autonomy can also be aggravated by a communication gap between superiors and those further down the organizational hierarchy. This gap may be due to the inherent inefficiencies of communication in large organizations or to differing perspectives among superiors and those actively engaged in a given work. It is necessary then to attempt to build organizational structures that will avoid, to some extent, these pitfalls. The problem of autonomy is a thorny one for religious. Balance must be achieved between a legitimate need for autonomy that is part and parcel of healthy adult functioning and the demand of religious obedience that is, perhaps, the very heart of the religious commitment. To some extent community structures have always made some provision for autonomy, for example, those having perpetual vows might vo~e for the superior, serve as councilors, or in other ways voice an ~pinion on community matters. The proverbial "planting cabbages upside down" type of blind obedience is also a.thing of the past. More recent changes in community life have attempted to address this need for autonomy. For example, the matter of annual assignments is now often handled on ~ consultative basis with the individual religiot~s I~a~'ing more input into the decision than was previously the case. Community meetings 6n the local, regional, and national/international levels also serve to keep the lines of communi-cation open and flowing upward, not merely downward. Nevertheless, the fact remains that the religious, by virtue of the vow of obedience, does surrender much personal autonomy. This surrender is often felt most keenly n.ot'in the early years but later as one must deal with one's own growth and developmeht as a ]'esponsi-ble adult. Much of the "mid-life crisis" seen in religious life centers around the issue of autonomy, the need for personal space and the integration of such concepts as 9Seligman. M. E. Helplessness: On De.pression Development and Death, San Francisco: Freeman Press. 1979. Tedium and Burnout in Religious Ltfe / 343 ob¢dience, choice, power, accountability, and responsibility. Perhaps one of the ways to resolve this conflict is to keep some progressive vision of what the com-munity (small group or larger organization) might accomplish and nurture the scope and consciousness of discretionary behavior. In most life situations things usually are more flexible than they might initially appear. Evaluating the possibili-ties for positive change and focusing one's energies in the realm of the possible enhance one's sense of legitimate power and control. The religious who can be attentive to authority, who can blend personal goals with community goals, and who recognizes both the extent and limit of his or her discretionary power is not as likely to suffer the lack of autonomy that leads to tedium. 3. Lack of Rewards It is indeed unfortunate that most organizations are inefficient in the distribution of rewards, appreciation and recognition, as this contributes to dis-couragement and demoralization among the members and can eventually lead to tedium. It is surprising that better use is not made of the power of positive reinforcement, for common sense would suggest, and research has confirmed, that people are far more able to tolerate considerable stress in situations in which they feel appreciated and their efforts recognized than in those in which they feel the rewards are not commensurate with their efforts. Religious are definitely not exempt from the need for rewards and recognition. Indeed, the absence of high levels of financial remuneration make it imperative that social rewards be given. It is all well and good to appeal to altruistic and spiritual motives, but positive feedback has tremendous reinforcement value that is far too often ignored. As a result, the religious who is.often enough already unpaid or underpaid is deprived of the satisfaction derived from well-earned recognition. Another aspect that frequently causes pain is the fact that the religious may be appreciated by those with whom he or she serves yet get little or no recognition from within the community. It remains true today "there is no respect for a ¯ prophet in his own country" Jn 4:44. While it is true that one should not rely solely on one's superiors for praise there is a need for ~ecognition by one's peers that is often lacking. It is frequently the presence or lack of support at the local level that can make the difference between a vital, contributing team member and a "burnt-out case." Stages of Disillusionment Edelwicht0 defines five stages in the process of disillusionment. Stage one, that of initial enthusiasm, is that period of high hopes, high energy and unrealistic expectaiions when one does not know what the job is all about. In religious life this would typically correspond to the novitiate and formation period as well as the early years of active ministry. 1 recall hearing a novice describe with great anima- I°Edelwich. J., op. cit. pp. 28-29. 344 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 tion the ceremony of initial profession of another sister. The formula of vows, written by the sister, concluded with the words "Surprise me, Jesus!" An older priest seated next to me turned to me, smiled ruefully, and said sotto voce "He will." The second stage is that of stagnation. It is at this point that one's ministry is no longer so satisfying as to substitute for everything else in life. "Is that all there is?" seems to sum up the feelings of this stage. There is a shift in emphasis at this point from meeting the needs of others to meeting one's own needs. For the religious formed in an other-oriented tradition this shift in emphasis can often be accompanied by feelings of guilt and loss of self-esteem as he or she senses that the fervor which marked the early days of religious life has diminished, Edelwich~ calls his third stage that of frustration. It is at this point that one tends to question not merely one's own effectiveness in the ministry but the value of religious life and ministry itself. Frequently emotional, physical and behavioral problems emerge at this stage. The fourth stage, that of apathy, sets in when a person is chronically frustrated. Apathy as such is a typical defense mechanism that occurs after repeated frustra-tion and is analogous to the learned-helplessness phenomenon mentioned earlier. At this point no new challenges are undertaken and one seems to "go through the motions," doing the minimum required to avoid censure. The stage of intervention is defined as whatever is done in response to or in anticipation of the four preceding stages. Intervention attempts to break the cyc!e. It may involve a restructuring of relationships to clients, family, friends and com-munity. It may mean seeking advanced training and new areas of apostolic work. It may, in some instances, mean leaving the ministry and religious life altogether. The Special Problems of Women Religious The antecedents of burnout and tedium mentioned here apply equally well to both male and female religious. The literature has noted, however, that profes-sional women bear a special burden not shared by men. For example, the conflict between career and home demands is more sharply delineated for a woman who, in the effort to balance both, may seek to become a "Superwoman." This sort of role conflict would also appear to be more keenly felt by women religious than by men. Communities of women seem to place more stress on creating a homelike atmosphere in which there is a fairly high level of mutual interaction and group activity. While such a structure has the potential for providing a great deal of warmth and support, the time needed to foster and maintain these community relationships may cause tension if community activities are seen as competing with the demands of one's ministry. Another major contribution to the burnout of women is sexism. As Edelwich~-' ~qbid. p. 29. Tedium and Burnout in Religious 13fe / ~4~3 notes, in the business and professional world large numbers of women are employed in positions of structured inferiority. Sexual stereotyping influences job assignments, allocation of responsibilities and standards of conduct. Sexual polar-ization commonly reinforces polarization by rank and status. This same pattern of sexual discrimination is found within the Church. The hierarchical structure is male dominated and its influence pervades the entire area of religious life and ministry. There is no need even to enter upon a discussion of ordination of women. Think at a more everyday level of the small put-downs, the questions regarding competence, the paternalism that is found all too frequently. How often does "the pastor" win his point by sheer weight of authority rather than by the merits of the case? How many male religious are comfortable dealing with attractive, educated women as peers? How often has a sister's name been reduced to a diminutive form ¯. in jest, of course? How does the treatment afforded male and female faculty members compare--or differ? Needless to say, the additional burden of dealing with one's femaleness takes its toll, for if a woman is sensitive, the professional struggles can be more frustrating. If she is empathic, the suffering she encounters is felt more sharply. If she knew herself as a caring person and a dedicated religious, recognition that she is no longer moved by the needs of others is more crushing. Coping Strategies Once aware of the potential for the development 6f tedium and burnout, what coping strategies can be introduced? This selection will attempt to present coping mechanisms at three levels:, the organizational, the interpersonal, and the intrapersonal. At the organizational level one can seek to reduce tedium and burnout by reducing the overload, making alternative forms of service available to the reli-gious, and by limiting the hours of stressful work. Community-based pre-retirement programs have already begun to make use of these concepts. By extending them to a broader range of personnel, severe forms of burnout may be prevented or at least reduced. Training, of course, is essential, not merely the initial formal education that would prepare the religious for his or her chosen field but continuing education where the !~eligious is given an opportunity to examine the pressures of the ministry, clarify goals and priorities, consider coping mechanisms and develop new skills. In the initial phases of formation training, the interventions appropriate to the stage of idealistic enthusiasm~3 should be taught. Novices or professed in temporary vows should be made aware of the discrepancy between expectations and reality and learn to moderate their enthusiasms before they become bogged down in the stage of stagnation. During this phase of formation the young religious should be taught to examine their motives for entering on ~21bid. p. 18. ~-~lbid. pp. 212-220. 3116/ Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 certain modes of ministry. The need to be needed is a powerful one as is the need to exert control, a motive that one tends to find if one scratches the surface of altruism. With awareness of their own motives religious can use their emotional investment in the ministry as the basis for insight rather than an acting out of their own needs at the expense of those they set out to serve. In an effort to avoid or at least reduce tedium and burnout, thought should also be given to providing positive work conditions that are suited to the needs of the individual and to assisting the religious to gain a sense of work significance. To achieve this end, as far as possible set clear organizationa| objectives, provide feedback and give the individual appreciation for his or her efforts and accomplishments. On the interpersonal level the development of social support systems is essen-tial. Although the conflicting or ambiguous demands of various systems can lead to burnout, on the whole the efficient and creative use of a social support system is one of ttie most effective ways of coping with the burnout syndrome. Social support systems may be defined as lasting interpersonal ties to groups of people who can be counted on to provide emotional sustenance, assistance, and resources in periods of need and stress, who provide feedback, both positive and negative, and who share standards and values. Ideally, one would belong to several supportive groups: community, family, work, recreational, and avocational. William Glasser~4 in his book, Reality Ther-apy, speaks of the dangers of the "small world." In such a situation, one group, for example, the community or work group, becomes the center of one's entire life and the source of all one's emotional and psychological support. Pines and Aronson~5 list six functions of a social support system, namely: listening, technical support, technical challenge, emotional support, emotional challenge, and the providing of social reality. Rather than expect that'one person or one set of people meet each of these needs, it is helpful to the religious to differentiate the support functions one can get from a given source and seek fulfillment of other needs from other groups. Not to do so places a tremendous burdbn on the sole source of support and leads to disappointment and anger when one's needs are not met. A number of coping strategies that would serve to reduce the likelihood of burnout are open to the individual religious. Among the variables that reduce the severity of burnout are learning, meaning and significance, success and achieve-ment, and variety.~6 Learning and understanding and a healthy curiosity are basic motivators. In the stage of stagnation new learning can open the door to new aspects of one's work and prevent the sort of burnout that accompanies one's perception of being at a dead end. Learning need not involve formal instruction; an attitude of open- V~Glasser, W., Reality Therapy. New York: Harper Colophon Books, 1975, p. 30. ~SPines. A. M., and Aronson, E., op. cir., p. 124." ~Pines, A. M., and Aronson. E., ibid., pp. 143-144. Tedium and Burnout in l~eligious Ltfe/ 347 n~ss to new experience can serve to keep one interested and alert. ~, Finding or creating meaning and significance in one's work and life is essential. Without these ingredients one becomes apathetic, alienated from oneself and others. Viktor Franklt7 recognized this and incorporated the struggle of the mature person to find, meaning in life into his work Man's Search For Meaning. "Nothing succeeds like success" goes the old maxim and nothing can eliminate burnout more effectively than the acknowledgment of one's achievements. Reli-gious, perhaps more than others, need to learn to acknowledge and enjoy their own successes before pushing on to new challenges. Certainly the drive for success can be self-destructive if one becomes obsessed with competing and pushes for "success" in the absence of other rewards. Nevertheless the religious needs to learn to define areas of accomplishment in which he/she can take justifiable pride. Monotonous activities lead to tedium whether they be found in a work or a non-work situation. A sense of variety and interest, on the other hand, originating largely with the person can susiain one in the ministerial field. Variety need not be a matter of outside stimulation, although that is certainly useful, but can be achieved by an openness to the uniqueness of the people with whom one works or whom one serves. Other ways of seeking variety include job changes within one's field or more total changes that involve seeking a new path. The career changes taking place more and more often at mid-life reflect this desire for variety. One coping mechanism mentioned by Pines and Aronson~8 was the develop-ment of an attitude of detached concern, which they defined as a stance in which the empathic professional (or religious) is sufficiently detached or objective in his attitudes toward the client to exercise sound judgment and keep his/her equanim-ity, yet also have enough concern for the client to give sensitive, understanding service. To attempt such a stance requires a delicate sense of balance. It is a process phenomenon, not a static entity that once achieved is dever lost. The religious needs to discern the level of emotional involvement proper for each person/situa-tion he or she encounters, avoiding a draining, ineffectual overinvolvement on the one hand and a clinical coldness that dehumanizes on the other. Compartmentalization~ is another way suggested by Pines and Aronson~9 to keep a balance between energy invested in the work sphere and the energy invested in life outside of work. This is one area that may prove problematic as there are still many community situations in 'which the religious both work and live together. Situations such as these tend to foster the creation of the "small world" mentioned earlier, and negative feelings generated in one sphere tend to carry over into the other. Newer community structures have attempted to alleviate these difficulties by establishing residences that are not identified with one particular ~TFrankl, V. Man's Search.for Meaning. Boston: Beacon Press. 1963. ~Pines. A. M. and Aronson, E., op. cir., pp. 54-55. ¯ ~91bid., p. 164. ~1411 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 form of ministry. The residents work at a variety of jobs and in'several differe~at locations and "come home" when their workday is ended. While no single living arrangement is perfect, one such as this does provide the individual religious with an opportunity to separate work demands from other aspects of his/her life. Perhaps the most important of the coping mechanisms open to the individual religious is that of "being good to oneself" or "doing to oneself as you have done to your client." Committed religious tend to burn out because they take on too much for too long and with too much intensity. To reduce the likelihood of burnout one needs an awareness of work stresses and a recognition of the danger signs. One also needs to acknowledge areas of vulnerability and put reasonable limits on one's work for there will always be more that could be done. in addition, one needs to set realistic goals, both long-term and short-term, and be willing to provide for one's own needs, treating oneself as a person with legitimate needs, taking time for prayer and pleasure and nourishing oneself so that there will be strength available to continue the service to which one is called, that with St. Paul one can state: ". my life is already being poured away as a libation . 1 have fought the good fight, 1 have run the race to the finish, I have kept the faith" (2 Tm 4:6-7). Weeping may endure for a night but joy cometh in the morning Ps 30:5. Morning Cometh A Quotella Weeping that weeps me far away May bring the night and end the day. Endure: For the human heart is a finite flask, A bottle whose meager store of tears Night and pain may cause to flow. But even as the last tear falls Joy, as the light, lifts my heart and so, Cometh the dawn. In balance must all things lie. The source of nighttime tears allow Morning to come at last somehow. C. Dell Turney 4108 Little Fairfield Eureka, CA 95501 Prayer As an Act of Justice Mary Lou Theisen, 1. H. M. Since September, Sister Mary Lou has been involved in the Active Spirituality program, located in Seton Hall of Mount St. Joseph College, Mount St. Joseph, OH 45051. This is what Yahweh asks of you: only this, to act justly. to love tenderly. to walk humbly with your God (Mi 6:8). In this simple statement uttered through the mouth of the prophet Micah, God reveals to us for all times the essence of religion. Religion, in the purity of its meaning, is not an ethic nor a multiplication of actions, but a way of life--an integral act lived out in the intggrity of one's being. In this single act there is no dichotomy between acting justly, loving tenderly or walking humbly before God: one element flows from and feeds into the others, finding its true mehning only in conjunction with them. The purpose of this article is to show how true prayer (walking humbly with God), entered into in the integrity of our being, not only leads to actions of justice, but is in itself an act of justice. In his Dictionary of the Bible,~ John McKenzie points out that the Hebrew word sedek, which we translate as justice, is a very complex term embracing the concepts of judgment and righteousness. It is sometimes translated as integrity and implies a right balance born of fidelity to the truth of what something or someone is supposed to be. To be just or to act justly in the biblical sense, therefore, is first of all to be judged righteous or to be justified by God. To seek justice is to seek salvation or justification in truth. To seek justice is to seek God. To act justly is to tMcKenzie, John L., Dictionary of the Btble (Milwaukee: Bruce Publishing CO. 1965). 349 351~ / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 act out of the truth of who we and others are in the authenticity of our being. This truth is discovered ~nd entered into in times of solitude, in times of walking humbly with God, when we are unable to hide behind our actions, our words, or any of the multiple walls we so often build around our true self. It is in solitude that we are forced to come face to face with our sinfulness and inability to save ourself. In solitude we also experience God's willingness to forgive, his power and desire to save (justify) us and all people. Let us reflect for a while on Jesus, to see this reality present in his prayer/life. In Hebrews 5:7-9 we read: During his life on earth, he offered up prayer and entreaty, aloud and in silent tears to the one who alone had the power to save him from death, and he submitted so humbly that his prayer was heard. Although he ~vas son. he learned obedience through suffering: but having been made perfect, he became for all who obey him the source of eternal salvation and was acclaimed by God with the title of high priest of the order of Melchizedek. St. Paul is here indicating that it was du.ring his time spent in intimate com-munion with his Father, in the solitude of the desert or on the hilltop, that Jesus came to realize and to accept who he was, to realize and to accept his call as the Messiah, the "Beloved Son," with all that this call meant for himself and for others. During these times of reflecting on what was happening in his own life in the light of the words of the prophets and psalms, Jesus came to the truth of his human condition as one destined for misunderstanding, betrayal, suffering, and a death from which he was unable to save himself: This is what I meant when I said, while 1 was still with you, that everything written about me in the law of Moses. in the prophets and in the Psalms has to be fulfilled. He then opened their minds to understand the Scriptures and he said to them: So you see hoffit was written that the Christ would suffer and on the third day rise from the dead (Lk 24:44-47). More importantly, however, through his own reflections on Scripture, Jesus came to know and to trust in the truth of God's faithfulness which alone could and would justify him, and through him, all people: But now. thus says Yahweh: Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you: 1 have called you by your name. you are mine. Should you pass through the sea. 1 will be with you, or through rivers, they will not swallow you up. Should you walk through fire, you will not be scorched and the flames will not burn you. For 1 am Yahweh. your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior (Is 43: I-3). He said to me, You are my servant in whom I shall be glorified: while I was thinking, I have toiled in vain, I have exhausted myself for nothing: and all the while my cause was with Yahweh. my God was my strength. And now Yahweh has spoken, he who formed me to be his servant, to bring Jacob back to him. to gather Israel to him (Is 49:3-5). This inner realization of who he was in truth and of the power of God's faithfulness working in and through him formed Jesus as an authentic person of justice, both in the biblical sense of one who receives his justification from God, and in practice. Being convinced in the core of his being that it was his Father's love and faithfulness which saved and justified him, Jesus could only act justly Prayer as an Act of Justice / 35"1 toward others for he knew that this gift of God's saving love was not meant for him alone: It is not enough for you to be my servant. 1 will make you the light of nations so my salvation may reach the ends of the earth (Is 50:6). I. Yahweh. have called you to serve the cause of right: I have taken you by the hand and formed you: I have appointed you as covenant of the people and light of the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to free captives from prison and those who walk in darkness from the dungeon (Is 42:6-7). As Donald Senior states so well in his insightful book Jesus--a Gospel Por-trait2 (p. 138): "From his intimate life of prayer with his Father and from a powerful searching of Scriptures, Jesus had forged the basic convictions that animated his life and ministry. Basic convictions about God as loving Father and about love as fundamental bond of human relationships were joined to an unshakable integrity that translated principle into action.~ The gospels tell us that this action at times took the form of speaking out against the social injustices of his day. He especially denounced the so-called religious leaders, not as much for their smugness and legalistic interpretation of religion as for their inability to recognize God as a God of love and their own lack of love and compassion: "But alas for you pharisees! You who pay your tithe of mint and rue and all sorts of garden herbs and overlook justice and the love of God" (Lk i 1:42). Jesus' conviction, born of his own reflection on Scripture and his own expe-rience, that God was a God of love whose love and salvation was gratuitously given to all--the just and the unjust, the clean and the unclean, the poor and the rich, the sinners and the outcasts as well as the good and self-righteous--led him not only to denounce the systemic injustices of his time, but more especially to live out of his conviction in his own daily encounters with others. He associated with the sinners, the outcasts, the sick, the poor, as well as with the rich and the righteous, showing by his very presence to them his acceptance and respect of them as individuals. By his gentleness, love and compassion for each one he offered them the experience of God's liberating and compassionate love for them, while always respecting their own integrity as persons and never forcing his vision on them (e.g., the rich you'ng man). It was precisely this attitude of Jesus toward others, his acceptance of sinner and righteous alike, which was the greatest affront to the religious leaders of his day for it contradicted their notion of religion: that one was saved by his own actions, by his minute observance of the law. Consequently, opposition toward Jesus and his teachings grew among the leaders. Jesus, well aware of this increas-ing hostility, was compelled to rely more and more on his Father's faithfulness to save him: Now my soul is troubled. What shall I say: Father. save me from this hour? But it was for this :Senior. Donald, C.P. Jesus, a Gospel Portrait (Dayton: Pflaum. 1975). 359 / Review for Religious, May-June 1982 very reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name (Jn 12:27-28)! Jesus' human struggle to accept his salvation from God and not from his own actions reached its peak in the garden when he pi'ayed in agony, "Father, if it is possible let this chalice pass. Nevertheless, let your will be done, not mine." This total surrender of his person to God's saving plan for him brought Jesus then to his ultimate moment of prayer--his death on the cross. At the moment of death, when, we are told, one's entire life passes before one's eyes and the dying person often speaks a.word which expresses not only what is being experienced at that moment, but which somehow summarizes an entire lifetime, it was not surprising that Jesus spoke from his heart the opening words of Psalm 22. This psalm, which must have been one on which Jesus meditated often during his life and especially at the end when he knew his death was imminent, truly summarizes his life and death experiences. Although spoken in a moment of extreme agony and intense feeling of being abandoned by God, the psalm is not one of despair, but one of ultimate trust in God's power and willingness to save him as his ancestors who had trusted in God had been saved: Yet. Holy One. you who make your home in the praises of Israel. in you our fathers put their trust. they trusted and you rescued them: they called to you for help and they were saved. they never trusted you in vaifi (3-5). It is a psalm of praise to the God who is already saving him in spite of all the evidence to the contrary: Do not stand aside, Yahweh. O my strength, come quickly to my help . Then I will proclaim your name to my brothers, praise you in the full assembly: you who fear Yahweh. praise him! Entire race of Jacob, glorify him! Entire race of Israel, revere him! For he has not despised or disdained the poor man in his poverty, has not hidden his face from him, but has answered him when he called ( 19, 22-24). In this moment of abandonment to the mercy of God who is already saving him in his faithfulness, Jesus is very aware that the meaning of his life and death is not only for his own justification but for that of all peoples: You are the theme of my praise in the Great Assembly. I perform my vows in the presence of those Who ~ar him. The poor will receive as much as they want to eat. Those who seek Yahweh will praise him. Long life to their hearts. The whole earth from end to end. will remember Prayer as an Act of Justice / 353 and come back to Yahweh: All the families of the nations will bow down before him. For Yahweh reigns, the ruler of nations! Before him all the prosperous of the earth will bow down, And my soul will live for him. my children will serve him: Men will proclaim the Lord to generations still to come, His righteousness (justice, salvation) to a people yet unborn. All this he has done (25-31)! Thus Jesus' greatest act of justice in the biblical, as well as the practical, sense occurred at the moment of his death. In that very act of surrender of all that he was to God's saving plan for him, he became justified himself and by that same act won justification for all peoples: Altho.ugh he was son, he learnt to obey through suffering, but having been made perfect, he became for all who obey him the source of eternal salvation (Heb 5:8-9). ¯. in whom, through his blood, we gain our freedom, the forgiveness of our sins (Ep 1:7). What does this reflection on the prayer/life of Jesus have to say to us today as we strive to live an integrated life of prayer and justice? It means, first of all, that like Jesus we must learn to seek our own justification and that of others from God and not from our own actions, and to trust in his faithfulness to save us. Like Jesus, we must take time apart to reflect on our !ife in the light of Scripture and learn who we truly are and to what we have been called. In these times of quiet aloneness with God we will come to know ourselves in all of our weakness, sinfulness, and inability to save ourselves or anyone else. But, more importantly, we will also come to know who God is and in this light to know our true self as one already loved, forgiven, called and empowered by God through the blood of Jesus. As with Jesus, this inner conviction of who we are in truth and of the power of God's faithfulness working in and through us will form us as authentic persons of justici~ in the core of our being. Convinced of God's love and faithfulness which has already justified us by gratuitously forgiving our sinfulness in the blood of Jesus, we will be moved to act justly toward others. As with Jesus, this conviction will at times take the form of speaking out against the injustices of our day, of working to bring about a more just social order, and of supporting others who do this. In our daily life, it will affect ourattitude toward others, moving us to accept and affirm the integrity of each individual we encounter, for each has already been loved, forgiven and called to salvation by God. What greater act. of justice can we extend to another than to allow that person the space to discover and act out of his/her own authenticity as Jesus did with those he encountered', instead of forcing our vision on that person? Animated with the Spirit of Jesus we will, then, become."doers" of justice, of liberation in our world, each according to the call experienced in his/her honest encounter with God in prayer. However, like Jesus, in this very act of prayer itself, we will have .already entered into an act of justice. In coming before God in prayer we are acknowledg-ing our own inability~to save burselves and our need to be justified by God. In the 354 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 act of surrendering ourselves in openness to God's power to save us, we enter into the death of Jesus, crying out as he did from our own emptiness for God's saving opresence in our life, while at the same time gratefully accepting the justification we have already received through God's faithftilness to Jesus on the cross. Since through our baptism, as St. Paul tells us, we have been baptized into this death of Jesus, our prayers of surrender, of praise, of trust and gratitude, our prayers for mercy--entered into in the integrity of who we are and of who God is--are an integral part of the prayer of Jesus on the cross. Our prayers are the prayers of the Just One who came to bring justice and truth to all people, and who continues to do so in and through each person who accepts salvation from God. The greatest articulation of this prayer is, of course, the Eucharist. Here we actually participate, with gratitude (Eucharist--thanksgiving), in the eternal act of justification won by Jesus on the cross and reenacted each day "for the glory of God's name, for our own good and for the good of all the world." Moreover, because this death of Jesus into which we have been baptized was for the justification of all people for all time, every prayer of a baptized person affects the whole world for it can never be said in isolation. "A final thing that needs to be said about prayer is that it is always corporate. We often distinguish between private and public prayer, and to an extent this distinction is valid. But whether private or public, Christian prayer is always common, communal, corpo-rate. All Christian prayer is to our Father. in prayer we are united with our brothers and sisters, whether we are alone in our closet or together in our com-munity: we are united to the whole church. The prayer of the community is not a collection of individual prayers: it is common prayer out of our common plight to our common Lord in our common hope. We pray as part of the communion of saints, joining the whole people of God in all history and around the globe."3 Thus, as a person baptized into the death and resurrection of Jesus, and who has experienced in one's own life the love and saving power of God, the Christian is able to come before God in Jesus' name to offer to God in his/her own person all of the love and gratitude, the care, concern and work toward the establishment ¯ of the kingdom which is being experienced and lived out, knowingly or unknow-ingly, by every person in the world. As a person who experiences in one's own being sinfulness, selfishness, anger, frustration, fear and oppression of others, the baptized person can come before God as Jesus did on the cross, in behalf of the sinfulness of the world and cry out for mercy and forgiveness of sin for all people. As a person who experiences, even in times of prayer itself, emptiness, a search for meaning, boredom, ignorance, a feeling of rejection, a lack of faith and trust, the Christian can unite his/her own emptiness and need with the sufferings, the hunger and search for love and meaning, which exist among all people and, with them, accept his/her human condition and beg for salvation from God as Jesus did on 3Jen"nings. Theodore W., Jr., "Prayer, The Call for God." The Christian CentuG'. April 15, 1981, pp. 410-414. Prayer as an Act of Justice / 355 the cross. A baptized person can pray in this way, for in Jesus' Spirit we are all one before God. A call to pray in this posture is a call to be truly present in solidarity with all of humanity and all of creation which "still retains the hope of being freed, like us, from its slavery to decadence, to enjoy the same freedom and glory as the children of God" (Rm 8:21). It is a call to become one with the joys, sorrows, struggles and sufferings of all people and to accept in faith the saving love of God, "our freedom, the forgiveness of our sins" (Ep 1:7), so as to constantly offer to God the thanksgiv-ing and praise due him in justice. A call to stand before God in this manner of prayer in the authenticity of one's being is then, in a very real sense, an act of justice on behalf of the whole world, for it is a sharing in the surrendering love of Jesus. who throughout his life and especially in his death accepted his justification and that of all people from God who alone can save us from death and bring us into the kingdom of truth and justice. An Apostolic Spirituality for the Ministry of Social Justice by Max Oliva, S.J. Price: $.50 per copy, plu~ postage. Address: Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 St. Ambrose's Theology of the Consecrated Virgin George E. Saint-Laurent Doctor Saint-Laurent, of the Department ~f Religious Studies at California State University (Fuller-ton). presented the content of this article as a paper to the American Academy of Religion. He may be addressed at the university. Fullerton. CA 92634. Occasionally we may observe that an individual was ahead of his or her time. More often we are scandalized that an earlier generation could have been so deaf to its prophets and so blind to its evils. The history of Christian thought discloses at least two persistent phenomena which have accompanied its dialectical development. First, when we human beings confront a dipolar aspect of the Christian mys-tery, we are almost irresistibly tempted to assume an either/or stance and opt for one extreme to the neglect of the other. We find it difficult to bear a truth which cannot be pressed into our neat categories but finds itself in a creative tension between two poles. And yet it is invariably in that delicate both/and position that Christian "catholicism" or "orthodoxy" has discovered its authentic home: both the divine and the human in both Christ and the Church, with full attention both to grace and to nature, both to faith and to reason, both to spirit and to matter. Second, since our very existence is historical, contextual, and societal, we human beings are predictably limited and conditioned by the foreshortened hori-zons of our own cultural world. As we attempt to interpret our experience in terms of Christ and make it intelligible, we find our perceptions to be prejudicial in their foci and linguistically determined in their expression. And yet the Christian believes that Christ, the subject of his or her faith, is uniquely and eternally one. We who come later can only sympathize with the giants of Christian antiquity, who, being human~ were incapable.of seeing every facet of the total Christian commitment in undistorted vision. Every Cho~stian (hinke,r risks the occupational St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 357 hazards of his enterprise: the unconscious bias, the unintentional obscurantism, the unnoticed dislocation of values, the quite innocent use of outrageously sexist, racist, or bigoted language, the accidental imbalance which is far more indebted to his or her concrete situation in this place at this time in the face of this crisis than it is to the actual data of Revelation. The purpose of this essay, is to investigate St. Ambrose's~ theglogy of the consecrated virgin, insofar as it emerges from his liturgical hymns and sermons. It is a view remarkably balanced and far less a victim of negative historical condition-ing than the portraits of his contemporaries 'in the Western Church. His was an era when Platonism, with its flight of the soul from the body, and Manichaeism, with its rejection of the human body and its sexuality as evil, were still significant intellectual currents, predisposing Christians to opt for spirit over (rather than with) matter. No less than a Jerome2 could exceed all bounds of good taste and propriety in his zealous promotion of virginity at the expense of female sexuality, marriage, and motherhood: No less than an Augustine3 could be so haunted by his own sexual confusion that he could grudgingly accept sex within marriage only if procreation were both physically possible and explicitly intended. Yet Ambrose, bishop of Mila'n, was able to nurture the highest esteem for consecrated virginity without denigrating the human body, disparaging females, or detracting from the goodness of Christian marriage.4 Unlike the vitriolic Jerome, torn as he was between a melancholic misogynism and an irrepressible delight in feminine companionship, Ambrose was able to insert into the Christian tradition a more humanistic appreciation of woman and her role. Unlike the self-alienated Augustine, torn as he was between an admira-tion for his mother Monica and a theological pessimism compounded by personal tragedy in his own sexual history, Ambrose was able to pass on a more integral and positive perspective. G. Tavard 'writes: "Ambrose was not only an enthusiastic promoter of the virginal life; he had also put forward what may well constitute the only profound theology of womanhood in the Latin world.~ ~For a life of St. Ambrose, see F. H. Dudden, The Ltfe and Times of St. Ambrose. 2 Vols. (Oxford: 1935): and A. Paredi, St. Ambrose: His L~fe and 7~mes. Tr. M. Costelloe (Notre Dame: 1964). 2On St. Jerome, see F: Murphy, Ed., A Monument to Saint Jerome (New York: 1952); and D. Wiesen, St. Jerome as a Satyrist (Ithaca: 1964). 3The literature on St. Augustine is vast. See, for instance, P. Brown, Augustine of Hippo (Berkeley: 1967); and G. Bonner, St. Augustine of Hippo: L~fe and Controversies (New York: 1963). 4This subject has been much studied in recent years. See, for example, R. Ruether, "Mothers of the Church: Ascetic Women in the Late Patristic Age," Women of Spirit: Female Leadership in the Jewish and Christian Traditions. Ed. R. Ruether and E. McLaughlin (New York: 1979) 72-98: and eadem, "Virginal Feminism in the Fathers of the Church." Religion and Sexism, Ed. R. Ruether (New York: 1974) pp. 150-183: M, Maxey, "Beyond Eve and Mary," Religion for a New Generation. 2d Ed., Ed. J. Needleman, et al. (New York: 1977) 264-277: D. Carmody, Women and Worm Religions (Nashville: 1979) 113-123: E. Clark and H. Richardson, Ed., Women and Religion: A Feminist Sourcebook of Christian Thought (New York: 1977), pp. 53-77. 5Tavard, Women in the Christian Tradition (Notre Dame: 1973), p. I00. 358 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 It is important to realize just how critical the fourth century was in Church history. It was a period of transition from the. status of a despised and proscribed minority to that of a state religion professed and promoted by the Emperor himself and by most of his s.ubjects. During the era of persecution, only persons of heroic courage, high moral aspirations, and deep faith had been willing to embrace Christianity with its concomitant risk to life and property. Now, however, it had become a distinct advantage socially, economically, and politically to convert, and masses of "average" human beings sought admission. The inevitable consequence was a cooling of fervor, with a compromised commitment to the full implications of the Gospel. ~ in order to forestall unworthy "conversions," the Church instituted a lengthy catechumenate for testing and training candidates before their baptism at the Easter Vigil. In order to preserve her credibility as "The Holy Church," the author-ities created an even more exhaustive and lengthy system of "canonical penance" for the rehabilitation of public sinners who repented. But there was also a more private and individual response in the extraordinary development of asceticism. Previously it had been the martyrs who had constituted the ideal of Christian perfection. Because of their bloody sacrifice, they had been idealized as the perfect disciples who had mystically died in the Lord and could therd'ore anticipate a glorious resurrection in the same Lord. Now it had become the ascetics who achieved a "white" or spiritual martyrdom by their lives of seclusion, self-discipline, and consecrated celibacy. Women as well as men pursued the new ideal. One could retreat into the wilderness (either literally or figu.ratively), and, far from the scandalous vanity and corruption of urban life, die to oneself daily through prayer, fasts, vigils, and the consecration of one's personhood in celibacy. There were the eremitical and semi-eremiticai structures of Anthony as well as the fully cenobitical communities of Pachomius, Eustathios, and Basil the Great.6 There was the growing pressure upon priests to live celibately.7 And there were the convents for women associated with the names of Paula, Eustochium, the Melanias, and Macrina.8 On the other hand, some cohsecrated virgins simply lived privately with their parents or in their own homes or even in the homes of clergymen, although the latter practice was continuously deplored and condemned by ecclesiastical authori-ties. 9 The celebrated sister of Ambrose, Marcellina, for instance, lived with her 6See D. Chitty, The Desert a Ot)' (Oxford: 1960): C. Frazee, "Anatolian Asceticism in the Fourth Century: Eustathios of Sebastea and Basil of Caesarea," The Catholic Historical Review66(1980), pp. 16-33; G. Saint-Laurent, "St. Basil of Caesarea and the Rule of St. Benedict," Diakonia 16 (1981), pp. 71-79. 7See C. Frazee, "The Origins of Clerical Celibacy in the Western Church. Church Histor.v 41 (1972). pp. 149-167. 8See, for example, Gregory of Nyssa, Life of St. Macrina, Ed. V. Callahan. Vol, 8 in W. Jaeger (Ed.), Works (Leiden: 1952). 9See D. Bailey, The Man-Woman Relation in Christian Thought (London: 1959), p. 33. St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 359 mother and a companion in Rome. Since no convents appear to have been available at Milan, the virgins in Ambrose's care must have resided with their parents. Ambrose himself implies that the native Milanese virgins were relatively few in number, whereas young women came to Milan from Piacenza, Bologna, i~nd Mauritania to celebrate the-rite of consecration. A maiden would solemnly vow her chastity as a bride of Christ in the church before a bishop, with a ritual closely paralleling that of earthly marriage. Accord-ing to Roman custom, a bride was to wear the stola (a long outer garment), receive a fiery-coloredflammeum (her bridal veil) from the priest, and vow her fidelity to h~r bridegroom in the presence of witnesses. A virgin enteri.ng into mystical espousal with Christ also wore a stola and received the flammeum Christi to betoken her new state of life, but both were of somber color. She also pronounced her vow before witnesses, who in her case were the whole community publicly assembled to voice their approving "Amen." We do not know the actual formula of consecration invoked within the Mila-nese liturgy, but we may suppose that it would closely resemble the long preface of consecration to be found in the Gelasian Sacramentary, whose provenance is from Rome about a century later.~° Drawing upon several incidental references in the writings of Ambrose and others, F. H. Dudden reconstructs the general shape of the ceremony thus:' The congregation, at which the bishop himself was the officiating minister, was solemnized with much pomp on one of the great festivals--in the case of Marcellina on the Feast of Epiphany: more usually, however, at Easter, when it was attended by the newly baptized wearing their white robes and carrying lighted tapers. The bishop delivered an address to the' virgin, and offered a solemn prayer. The girl then publicly pledged herself to a life of chastity. Next the bishop took the veil, which had been lying on the altar, and placed it over her head, with the words, q wish to present you as a chastg virgin to Christ.' A benediction was then recited, to which the congregation responded 'Amen." At some point in the service Psalm xlv was chan!ed, and possibly some hymns in praise of virginity were sung." By virtue of her consecration, the "bride of Christ" became a special responsi-bility of her bishop, who was required to visit her regularly, open the Scriptures to her, and impart instructions to her about her duties of state. Although she was separated from the other women in the asseinbly by a screen, she was still believed to,possess a place of honor. Women would sometimes draw near to the enclosure in order to request the kiss of peace from consecrated virgins. As bishop of Milan, Ambrose fulfilled many roles which proved decisive for the later history of the Western Church. Defender of Nicene orthodoxy, champion of the Church's freedom from imperial control, channel of eastern theology to the ~0See I. Mohlberg. Ed. Liber Sacramentorum Romanae Aeclesiae Ordinis Anni Circufi (Sacramenta-rium Gelasianum). Rerum Ecclesiasticarum Documenta Series Major. Fontes IV (Rome: 1960). pp. 124-128. On the consecration of virgins, see P. Camelot. "Virginity." New Catholic Encyclopedia 14 (1967). pp. 702-703. ~tDudden. op. cir. p. 151. ~0 / Review for Religious, May-June, 1982 Latin world,!2 creator and reformer of public worship,Is spiritual father of the great Augustine: Ambrose was all of these and much more as one of the Four Great Latin Fathers.14 But the special object of Ambrose's pastoral concern throughout his years of episcopal service was the consecrated life. Ambrose has been called "The Father of Latin Hymnody.''1S Of the nineteen liturgical hymns which may be ascribed to him with greater or less certitude, five are directly pertinent to our subject, while a sixth holds.indirect interest. Since it is primarily through the sacred liturgy that Catholic and Orthodox Christians have always appropriated their beliefs and values, we may very well be confronting here effectual channels of Ambrosian thought far more significant on the popular level than any discourse could ever have been. Our first three hymns extol Mary, the Mother of Jesus, as the perpetually virginal woman who was nonetheless made marvelously fruitful by the interven-tion of God. A fourth hymn glorifies a popular virgin martyr. A fifth hymn praises Christ, the Spouse of virgins. Finally, our sixth hymn expresses the fundamental spirituality of the consecrated women. Ambrose is remembered as an enthusiastic admirer of the Blessed' Virgin, and he holds a preeminent place in the development of Mariolggy. In lain surgit hora tertia,16 a hymn composed for the liturgical hour of Terce, our poet recalls how Christ entrusted his mother to the Apostle John. The strophes pertinent to our investigation, together with this writer's English translation, are as follows: celso triumphi uertice matri Ioquebatur suae: en f!lius, mater, tuus, apostole, en mater tua. praetenta nuptae foedera alto docens mysterio, ne uirginis partus sacer matris pudorem laederet. From lofty pillar of triumph ¯ He was speaking to his mother: Mother, behold thy son, Apostle. behold thy. mother. Covenants of marriage pretended Taught he with deep mystery, Lest the sacred bearing of a virgin Cast hurt upon a mother's honor. The hymn Intende, qui regis Israel17 was intended "for the Christmas liturgy, and it was an ideal opportunity for Ambrose to blend two of his favorite themes: the glories of the Word Incarnate and the wonders of Christ's virginal conception and birth through Mary. Jesus and Mary are praised together from the second stanza through the fifth. The text, together with this writer's translation, follows: ~2See Saint-Laurent, "St. Ambrose and the Eastern Fathers," Diakonia 15 (1980), pp. 23-31. t3See idem. "St. Ambrose as Channel of Eastern Liturgical Customs to the West," Diakonia 13 (1978), pp. 101-110. t4Together with Jerome, Augustine, and Gregory the Great. tSFor example, see M. McGuire, "Ambrose. St.," New Catholic Encyclopedia I (1967). p. 375; R. Trench, Sacred Latin Poetry (London: 1874), pp. 87-88: F. Raby, A Histoo, of Christian Latin Poetry 2d. Ed. (Oxford: 1953). pp. 32-36. ~rFor a critical text, see W. Bulst, Ed., Hymni latiniantiquissimi." LXXV Psalmi II (Heidelberg: 1956), p. 41. ~TFor a ~ritical text, see ibid., p. 43. St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 361 uenL redemptor gentium. ostende partum uirginis, miretur omne saeculum, tails decet partus deo. non ex uirili semine, sed mystico spiramine uerbum dei faetum est earo fructusque uentris floruit. aluus tumescit uirginis, claustrum pudoris permanet, uexilla uirtutum micam, uersatur in templo deus, proeedat e thalamo suoo pudoris aula regia, geminae gigans substantiae, ¯ alacris oecurrat uiam. Come, redeemer of the nations, Demonstrate a virgin's bearing, Let all the world be moved with wonder, So great a bearing befits our God. Not from human instigation, But from mystic inspiration Word of God did flesh become And fruit of womb did flower. Swollen grows a virgin's womb, Door of chastity remains, Virtues' beacons glitter forth, Engaged is God within his temple. ¯ Springs forth he from nuptial chamber, Royal palace of chaste modesty Giant of twofold nature he, Speedily runs he his course. The claustrum pudoris permanet of the fourth strophe is strikingly similar to phrases in Ambrose's De institutione virginis,~8 and expresses a doctrinal concern important to him: the virginity of Mary before, during, and after the birth of Jesus. Ambrose refers to the womb of Mary as aula regali uteri virginalis in that same work,!9 and g~es on to state: "Aula regialis is the virgin, who is subject not to man but to God alone." The hymn Inluminans altissimus2° is a hymn written for the observance of Epiphany, with its threefold orientation towards Jesus' baptism in the Jordan, his manifestation to the Magi, and his first miracle at Cana. Our immediate interest is focused upon the third stanza, the text of which follows, together with the present writer's translation: seu stella partum uirginis caelo micans signauerit et hoc adoratum die praesepe magos duxerit, A star shining from heaven Will have shown a virgin's giving birth And on this day will have led The Magi to adore the crib. Christ, "the most high Enlightener," has beenborn of a virgin, and so a radiant star in turn becomes a sign, bathing the crib in its light for the Magi to see. From the preceding three passages it is evident that Ambrose d~lights in dwelling upon Mary's perpetual, yet fruitful, virginity. Mary is the womanly model of the consecrated virgin par excellence, and her miraculous conception of Jesus by the power of. the Holy Spirit constitutes a quasi-paradigmatic event. The consecrated virgin, may approach the regal dignity of Mary through her own state of life, and so become spiritually in her own body a royal palace for God. The divine maternity is a privilege unique to Mary, of course, yet her self-donation to ~Ambrose. De institutione virginis 8.52 (PL 16.320). ~91bid. 12.79 (PL 16.324). 20For a critical text. see Bulst. op. cit. p. 45. 362 / Review for Religious, May-June 1982 God is imitable. Ambrose suggests that the Word can mystically enter into union with the consecrated Virgin for spiritual fruitfulness in the service of others. Our fourth hymn, Agnes beatae uirginis,2t was composed especially for a litur-gical celebration of the Feast of St. Agnes (January 21). It is effectively a poetic paraphrase of a sermon of Ambrose wherein he recounts the martyrdom, of this famous young maiden, a homily which he actually preached for that feast and which is found in his De virginibus.2~ The bishop's basic theme is praise for the valor of a maiden who willingly died as a witness to her faith in Christ. In the first stanza, Ambrose announces that it is the feastday of Agnes, who consecrated her virginity through martyrdom. In the second stanza, our author marvels'that such a child, too young for marriage, should nonetheless be suffi-ciently mature to give her life in testimony--and that at a time when even adults were wavering in the" face of persecution. In succeeding stanzas, Ambrose narrates the story which his audience knew so well. Agnes deliberately sought out martyr-dom, and presented herself as a bride about to meet her Heavenly Bridegroom, her mystic dowry being her very blood. When commanded to offer idolatrous wor-ship, she condemned the altar-fire and promise, d to exiinguish it with her blood. In concluding stanzas, our poet dwells upon Agnes' dignity upon the deathblow, as she drew her garments about herself in chaste modesty. The entire hymn is significant for our purpose, and so all eight'strophes, together with this writer's translation, are here reproduced: Agnes beatae uirginis natalis est, quo spiritum caelo refudit deb#um pio sacrata sanguine. matura maro,rio fuit matura nondum nuptiis, nutabat in uiris fides, cedebat e.ffessus senes. metu parentes territi claustrum pudoris auxeram soluit fores custodiae .tides teneri nescia. prodire quis nuptum putet, sic laeta uultu ducitur, nouas uiro.ferens opes dotata censu sanguinis. aras ~fandi numinis adolere taedis cogitur, respond#: baud tales faces sumpsere Christi uirgines. hic ignis extinguit fidem, Of the blessed virgin Agnes It is the bi~'thday, on which she Poured back her spirit owed to heaven ' Consecrated b~ her faithful blood. Mature was she for martyrdom ' Though for marriage not yet mature, Faith was faltering among men, Conceding old men to be weak. Terrified by fear her parents Had provided a prison of shame Faith dissolved the gates of custody Not knowing how to be,restrained. One might think her advancing to wed So~,joyful in countenance is she led Bringing new wealth to her bridegroom With dowry of her blood endowed. Altars of a devilish god by Tortures she is pressed to worship, Answers she: Not such fires Have Christ's virgins chosen. This flame blots out the faith, For a critical text, see ibid., p. 46. -'~Ambrose, De virginibus 1.25-29 (PI. 16.-189-190). ~ St. Ambrose's Theology of the Virgin / 363 haec flamma lumen eripit. hic hic ferite, ut profluo eruore restinguam focos. percussa quam pompam tulit ham ueste se Iolam lege?ls curare pudoris praestitit, ne quis retectam cerneret. in morte uiuebat pudor uultumque texerat manu, terram genu flexo petit lapsu uerecundo cadens. This fire extinguishes the light. Here destroy me, here, that with Spilt blood I may quench the flames. Struck down what splendor she showed For covering her total person She displayed her care for modesty Lest anyone should see her unclothed. In her death, chastity was living As with hand she veiled her face, With bent knee she besought the earth Falling forward with modest movement. Ambrose was resolutely incarnational, not only in his doctrinal convictions, but also in his pastoral instincts. For him, the cult of the martyrs--like the cult of the virgin--was but an obvious implicate of any sound and balanced Christology. Grace could transfigure the material, the earthy, and the human into a sacramental epiphany of the spiritual, the. heavenly, and the divine. It was inevitable that Ambrose shot~ld exploit the

Issue 41.6 of the Review for Religious, November/December 1982. ; A Pope for Religious Advent: Not Ours But God's Religious in Politics Volume 41 Number 6 Nov./Dec., 1982 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices are located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd.: St. Louis, MO 63108. REvIEw FOR REt.IGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO: © 1982 by REVIEW FOR RELIGIOOS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A.: $9.00 a year: $17.00 for two years. Other countries: $10.00 a year: $19.00 for two years. For subscription orders or change of address, write: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS; P.O. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel F. X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Daniel T. Costello, S.J. 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A Pope for Religious: John Paul II on the Consecrated Life Barbara Albrecht This article is the Introduction to the book of homilies, addresses and writings edited by Dr. Albrecht: Johannes Paul II: Gottgeweihtes Leben (Vallendar-SchiSnstatt: Patris Verlag, 1982). pp. 336. It was translated by Sister M. Ingeborg, O.S.F.; St. Francis Novitiate; 2120 Central Avenue: Alton, IL 62002. His special messages and conferences, the many addresses to religious in Rome and during his pastoral travels show us in John Paul II a pope who is truly a friend who genuinely treasures religious communities. John Paul 1I has a very special sensitivity for the specific charism of each community, for its singular importance .in the life of the Church as a whole. The religious vocation belongs to that "spiritual fullness which the Spirit himself--the Spirit of Christ--brings forth,and molds in the People of God. Without religious orders, without 'consecrated' life, by means of its vows of chastity, poverty and obedience, the Church would not be fully herself."l The pope, himself a strong spiritual leader, forcefully reminds us of the priori-ties of religious life. He accentuates, warns of dangers, challenges--and all this as one who, with inner strength and clarity, tries to live out the mission of his office, fully aware of his responsibility before its Lord t:or the Church in our time. A survey of the highlights of John Paul's teaching makes for an effective summary of a practical theology of religious life. Call to Religious Life The interplay of the divine free call and the human freeyes to that call in a life ~To Superiors General of Men, Rome, November 24, 1978. L'Osservatore Romano. December 7, 1978, p. 3. All citations are from L'Osservatore Romano. and will be indicated by date of issue and page (English Edition). 801 1~02 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 consecrated to the Triune God is a mystery which e.merges out of the "creative initiative of God" and his loving providence over each individual.2 The call to religious life, then, is not first of all a duty, but a gift, "an immense and gratuitous gift from God."3 It is the basis for continuous thanksgiving and deep joy and, yes, for wonder! This is the ever-new wonder: "Whoever takes up the risk of following a religious vocationTM gains, "through the sweet breath of the Holy Spirit in his frail human reality a real form." At the same time, John Paul is caught by the "strength which, consolidating us in love, incorporates our existence with the work of God, with his plan of re-creating man in Christ, that is, the formation of his new redeemed family."~ This Christian calling is not for the individual alone. On the contrary, it is always an offer of love and of salvation for all. This is the fact that gives to each one who is called a responsibility for others through the witness of his life and of his service.6 A vocation to religious life is a mystery of love-as-dialogue because "we respond lovingly to the initiative of love," as the pope told seminarians and candidates for religious life in Porto Alegre.7 Our yes, given in love, is a matter of our faith in the faithful God, the faith with which the individual firmly grounds himself in God who calls. And simultaneously ouryes is the greatest expression of our freedom. This loving, free answer of ours is expressed in the threefold vows of the evangelical counsels. John Paul told reli-gious men in Chicago: No matter what others may contend or the world may believe, your promises to observe the evangelical counsels have not shackled your freedom. You are not less free because you are obedient, and you are not less loving because of your celibacy. On the contrary: The faithful practice of the evangelical counsels accentuates your human dignity, liberates' the human heart . But this freedom of an individed heart (see I Co 7:23-35) must be maintained by continual vigilance and fervent prayer.8 This vigilance refers especially to the authenticity of our life of the evangelical counsels. One important aspect of this authenticity is the art with which conse-crated men and women give their total love to God and, at the same time, meet their brothers and sisters--freely and effortlessly. The pope expressed this to women religious in Paris: May your vow of consecrated virginity impel you to join in actual fact with your brothers and sisters in humanity, in the concrete situations in which they find themselves! So many people of our world are, as it were, lost, crushed, without hope! Being mindful of the norms of prudence, make them feel that you love them in the manner of Christ, drawing from his heart 2To Those Called to the Priesthood and Religious Life and Their Directors, Porto Alegre, July 5. 1980. July 28, 1980. p. 6. ~To the Union of Superiors General of Won~en, Rome, November 14. 1979. November 26, 1979, p. 8. 4To Women Religious, Paris. May 31, 1980. June 9, 1980, p. 7. ~To Seminarians at the Major Seminary inGuadalajara, January 30, 1979. February 19, 1979, p. 4. 6To Women Religious, Paris, May 31, 1980. June 9, 1980, p. 7 7Lot. tit,. p. 6. ¯ 8To Religious Men. Chicago, October 4, 1979. October 29, 1979. p. 5 A Pope for Religious / 1103 the human and divine tenderness that he bears them. You also promised Christ to be poor with him and like him. Certainly our society of production and consumption raises complex problems for the practice of evangelical poverty. This is not the place or the time to discuss them. It seems to me that every congregation must see in this economic phenomenon a providential invitation to give an answer, at once tradi-tional and new. to Christ in his poverty? Poverty must, however, be genuinely evangelical in order to be able to recognize Christ in the "humblest." It is necessary to be able to identify oneself with one's brother in need by being "poor in spirit"(see Mt 5:3). Now this calls for simplicity and humility, love of peace, freedom from dissipative commitments or attachments, an inclination toward total abnegation that is free and obedient, spontaneous and constant, gentle'and strong in the certainties of faith.~° The Gospel meaning of poverty cannot be reduced to its material aspect alone. We have a plethora of possibility today to live it in ever new ways. To recognize such possibility in the Holy Spirit and to act on this understanding--this is the imitation of Jesus Christ, and, at the same time, a real service to our society. "All religious have the responsibility of reintroducing into society, with univocal wit-ness through the conversion of heart and of life-style, the values of real poverty, simplicity of life, fraternal love, and generous sharing."~ The Holy Father deliber-ately ended the fifteenth centenary of St. Benedict, and began the eighth centenary of St. Francis' birth under this heading of poverty. Finally, obedience is "the resolute and constant aspiration to conform our own will to that of God."t2 Religious obedience is certainly the sharpest of the three gold nails which attach [his] imitators to the will of Jesus Christ. Is it possible to look at the cross of the Lord Jesus without conforming to his mystery of obedience to the Father?t3 This question is addressed to all religious. The Holy Father pointed out very clearly that such obedience will find expression in our dependence on human superiors. There is yet another aspect of the consecrated life to which the Holy Father often turned. Such a life, consecrated to the eternal God, of its very essence has a great deal to do with perseverance. In Altftting, he reminded thousands of religious: Believing in the faithfulness of the One who calls and in the power of his Spirit, you put yourselves at God's disposal through the vows of poverty, consecrated virginity, and obedi-ence, and this not as an "obligation which can be revoked," not as a "life in a monastery for a time," not as co-workers in a group that has come together fora specific task and which breaks up again at will. No, in faith you have spoken a yes which is all-inclusive and forever, which finds its expression in your way of life and even in your religious garb. In our time, when people shy away from binding ties, when many would like to turn to a life of"testing," it 9Lot. cir. p. 7. t0To Religious Women, S~o Paulo, July 3, 1980. July 21, "1980, p. 3. ~Homily at St. Paul Outside the Walls. Mar~h 21, 1981. March 30. 1981, "p. 2. ~2To Religious Women of the Umbriah Dioceses. March 23, 1980. March 31, 1980, p. 9. ~3To the Daughters of Charity; January I I, 1980. February 4. 1980, p. 7. 8~ ] Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 belongs to you to testify that one can dare to enter into a definitive bond, to make a decision for God which embraces one's whole life, which makes you free and happy if it is renewed day after day.t4 Persons who give this kind of joyful witness "make the religious vocation in the Church to be something attractive."~5 They are the "best advertisement" for reli-gious vocations. It is self-understood that first of all we have to pray for vocations. But young people should also be enthusiastically invited to this way of following Christ in our pastoral work among the young.~6. Yes, the pope calls upon bishops and priests to become interested on a per-sonal level in religious vocations--just as he did himself when he was bishop in Krakow, and on the occasions of his pastoral journeys later when he became pope. At every opportunity he repeats: Go among the young! Meet them personally and call them. The hearts of the young and those not so young anymore are ready to listen to you. Many are searching for a goal in their lives. They are concerned about discovering a worthwhile mission in life to which they can dedicate themselves. Christ has prepared them for his call and your call. We have to call! The Lord will do the rest. His fundamental suggestion is: "Nothing without God--but nothing also without us!" This very old Catholic truth becomes truly concrete when it is applied to vocations to the consecrated life. The Charism of the Founder At a time when the younger generation appears to have lost any sense for tradition and history (which is one reason for the phenomenon of internal crisis in the Church) it is evident that the pope intends to give clear reminders to religious of their origins. The beginnings of the many orders and religious communities in which indi-viduals today live out their consecrated lives are not at all like musty archives, but like lively fountains, vital fires, lives lived in obedience to the Holy Spirit, lives in which the founders and foundresses, responding to their call from God, accepted and carried out their missions under the most trying of circumstances. At the start of each congregation stands some prophetic figure, one who was seized by a special mission, endowed with a special charism: Each of your founders, under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit promised by Christ to the Church, was a man who possessed a particular charism. Christ had in him an exceptional ~instrument" for his work of salvation which, especially in this way, is perpetuated in the history of the human family. The Church has gradually assumed these charisms, evaluated them, and, when she found them authentic, thanked the Lord for them and tried to "put them in a safe place" in the life of the community so that they could always yield fruit)7 Therefore it is the expressed desire of the pope that those who are called to a ~4Homily to Religious, November 18, 1980. December 15, 1980, p. I I. ~To Religious Men, Manila Cathedral, February 17, 1981. February 23, 1981, p. 6. ~6To Bishops of Latin America, Puebla, January 28, 1979. February 5, 1979,~ p. 5. ~TTo Superiors General of Men, Rome, November 24, 1978. December 7, 1978. p. 3. A Pope for Religious consecrated life in community, especially contemplatives, will study more and more deeply, in order to live it more and more intensely, the spirituality of their founders, without letting themselves be tempted by more fashionable methods or tech-niques, the inspiration of which has often little to do with the Gospel. The contemplative and mystical heritage of the Church is exceptionally vast and deep. It is necessary, therefore, to take care that all monasteries will undertake to get to know it, cultivate it, and teach But more than a few religious communities today have forgotten their beginnings. They do not know the specific spirituality and the mission on the basis of which the founding generation took its start. It is no wonder that this leads to a leveling among them, to the loss 6f the spiritual lineaments not only of the specific community but of the entire Church. In truth, it is not surrender to compromise~9 and a leveling process, but a distinctive portrait, not uniformity but a pluralism of charisms that makes for the beauty of the Church. Therefore the pope exhorts: Let every spiritual family watch over its particular identity in view of the good of the whole Church. What is done in one place is not necessarily to be imitated elsewhere.2° The Church needs a clear difference (and not a confusion) and the valid complementarity (and not isolation) of charisms and vocations . The spiritual richness of the Church and of her service to men lies in variety.2~ It is precisely this that presents to the searching Christian youth of today the chance for each one to find his way to follow his call and mission according to God's plan. Only in faithfulness to Christ and to the charism of each founder or foundress will this variety be safeguarded. And only in this faithfulness will be found the key that opens and secures the effectiveness of each order. The Witness of Being Anyone who reads the remarks of the Holy Father with an open mind will perceive his appreciation for the varied activity 0f religious in the apostolate, whether new or old. We could not find a warmer expression of papal approval of service to the poor and sick than in John Paul's letter marking the four-hundredth birthday of St. Vincent de Paul, or more encouraging words about the catechetical and pastoral service of religious women than those he spoke in Kinshasa/Zaire. But all apostolic work would be in vain if it were not founded on a strong spiritual life. What the Holy Father had said to priests and religious in Maynooth, he repeated to the superiors general in Rome, again to the plenary session of the Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes. and, finally, to monks at Saint Paul's: Your first apostolic duty is your own sanctification. No change in religious life has any importance unless it be also the conversion of yourself to Christ. No movement in religious life has any importance unless it be also a movement inwards to the "still center" of your ~STo Plenary Session of the Sacred Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes, Rome, March 7. 1980. March 24, 1980, p. 4. ~gTo Religious Women, Rome. November 10. 1978. November 23, 1978, p. 10. -'°To the Carmelites of Lisieux. June 2, 1980. June 23, 1980, p. 14. 2~To Religious Men. S~o Paulo. July 3, 1980. July 21. 1980, p. 7. 1106 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 existence, where Christ is. It is not what you do that matters most but what you are.:'- It would totally misrepresent his words to interpret this primacy of being and of personal sanctification as some kind of ego-centered salvation. The Holy Father does not want religious to become turned in on themselves, centered around their own egos. But he is concerned "that Jesus must always be first.''-3 He is concerned about their witness "to the primacy of God,"~4 about the credibility of the lives of those who have received the "gift" of a special call in the imitation of Christ.25 This call is something that "deserves, but also costs, the response of our whole being."~6 "A vocation is, therefore, a mystery that man accepts and lives in the depth of his being.''~7 "The Epiphany, the appearance of our Lord, which you love to celebrate here, depends on you!" he told religious women in Africa.28 This summons should be an imperative for us all, " so that the world may believe." Prayer and Contemplation Again and again the Holy Father affirms the absolute necessity of the vertical, contemplative dimension of religious life, and this not just for monastic-contem-plative religious, but for active apostolic communities: daily meditation on the Word of God, personal and communal prayer, gratitude and praise of God, add the petition for the "freedom of an undivided heart."~9 The Holy Father is, of course, aware of the tension between prayer and work. He knows that "a constant danger for apostolic workers is to become so much involved in their own work for the Lord as to forget the Lord of all work."3° But there is another danger in our world today. Through the very s~ams of convent walls seeps "the temptation to activism and distraction that the modern consumer society brings in its train, with all its materialistic overtones.TM Because of this, the Holy Father reminds religious of the absolute necessity of silence in every form of religious life. This element of the spiritual life "calls for areas of actual silence and personal discipline in order to facilitate contact with God."32 What is true for the individual is equally applicable to religious houses: Religious houses must be, above all. oases of prayer and meditation, places of personal and community dialogue with him who is and must remain the first and principal interlocutor of -'-'To Priests, Missionaries. Religious Brothers and Sisters. Maynooth, October I. 1979. October. 15. 1979. p. 6. -'3To Religious Women, Washington. October 7, 1979. November 5, 1979. p. 3. ~4To the International Union of Mothers General, Rome, November 16, 1978. November 30, 1978, p. 3. ~Porto Alegr¢, Ioc. cir. p. 6. 2~To Enclosed Nuns, Guadalajara. January 30, 1979. February 12. 1979. p. 8. ~TPorto AIcgre, Ioc. cit. p. 6. -'SKinshasha, May 3, 1980. May 19, 1980. p. 3. -'~To Religious Men, Chicago, Ioc cit. p. 5. ¯ ~°To Plenary Session of the Sacred Congregation, Ioc. cir. p. 3. 3~To Religious Women, Nagasaki, February 26, 1981. March 9, p. 18. ¯ ~-'To Plenary Session of the Sacred Congregation, Ioc. cir., p. 3. A Pope for Religious 807 their days, so full of work. Superiors must not be afraid, therefore, of often reminding their confreres that a pause of real worship is more fruitful and rich than any other activity even if intense and of an apostolic characterP3 Every generous service to men draws possibilities and impetus precisely from this prayerP4 Mere human kindness will not be enough. People have to feel that through you someone else is at work. To the extent that you live your total consecration to the Lord, you communi-cate something of him, and, ultimately, it is he for whom the human heart is longing.-~ In this connection it is to be observed how deep are the bonds which link the Holy Father to the contemplative branch of religious life. He hardly gives any talk in which he does not mention its importance for the Church and the world of today. What he tells the sisters in Lisieux holds true for all: Take up the challenge of the modern world and of the world of always, by living more radically than ever the very mystery of your quite original state, which is folly in the eyes of the world and wisdom in the Holy Spirit: exclusive love of the Lord and of all your human brothers in him. Do not seek to justify yourselves! All love, provided it is authentic, pure and disinterested, bears in itself its own justification. To love gratuitously is an inalienable right of the person even--and one should say above all--when the Beloved is God himself. In the footsteps of contemplatives and mystics of all times, continue to bear witness with power and humility to the transcendent dimension of the human person, created in the likeness of God and called to a life of intimacy with him.J6 Demands of the Apostolate The spiritual demands underlying all the apostolates of one who is called to the consecrated life have already been discussed, as has been the symbiosis of prayer and work. The Holy Father tells women religious in Baclaran that this demands, very concretely, ¯. in the taxing routine of your apostolic tasks [that you] always make sure that you devote periods of each day to personal and community prayers. These times of prayer must be carefully guarded and suitably prolonged, and you must not hesitate to supplement them by periods of more intense recollection and prayer, at times especially set aside for this purpose. You must always insure that the mutual center of your communities is the Eucharist: you will accomplish this by your fervent daily participation in the Mass, and by community prayer in an oratory where the eucharistic presence of Christ expresses and realizes what must be the principle mission of every religious family.37 Another directive to ffhich the Holy Father gives voice in forceful language has to do with the quality of apostolic work, especially in regard to its theological, spiritual, human and professional aspects, and always is this to be pursued in brotherly or sisterly solidarity: Help one another, among religious houses, among congregations, to organize times and ~Ibid. ~To Union of Superiors General of Men, Rome, November ~26. 1979. December 24, 1979, p. 5. 3~To Religious. Altrtting, November 18, 1980. December 15, 1980, p. 12. ~'To the Carmelites of Lisieux, Ioc. cir., p. 14. aTBaclaran, February 17, 1981. February 23, 1981, p. 5. 808 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 places of silence and meditation, in order to benefit from sessions of spirituality, theology, and ministry. Encourage one another to take part in them. Contribute by mutual aid to cover the expenses caused by these retreats and sessions. Your love for one another should be clearly seen. Because you are religious today, it is indispensable, even if you are contemplatives, to watch over your human formation, to sufficiently know the life and the problems of people today, especially if you have the mission of proclaiming the Gospel to them. Young people and adults are sensitive to the humanity of those who have "given everything to gain every-thing" to follow Christ.38 "Your professional competence is equally a very important factor and you will have to take it very seriously and keep it up-to-date. Also in this regard a symbiosis is necessary." Thus did the Holy Father speak to the General Chapter of the Hospital Order of St. John of God. "Only a professional, a purely human relation-ship, even with the sick, runs the risk of drying up for lack of roots and deep motivations. But if your work is not filtered through faith, it is always in danger of becoming materialized and of losing even the human elements."39 Only with the help of a deep inner saturation with prayer, faith, and professional competence can the work of religious be transformed into a true apostolate. In this connection the Holy Father makes frequent mention of that particular group of consecrated religious who are of special importance for every apostolate: How could I forget the sick sisters, and those who are infirm and old? Throughout the day and often at night, when sleep is difficult, they present to the Lord the silent offering of their almost uninterrupted prayers, their physical or moral sufferings, their "fiat" to the divine Will. They, too, are the priestly people that Christ won with his blood on the Cross. With him they save the world.4° Therefore all the members of the community should give them special, grate-ful, and loving attention. The Holy Father offers yet another direction for the right understanding of the religious apostolate, one which is important not only for the young Church, but for the entire Church: It is well-known that religious orders have always cultivated the vertical dimension by entering into a life with the Gospel and bearing witness to it through the example of the Gospel reread authentically: that is, on the basis of the Church and in faithfulness to her magisterium. It must be so today also. Witness, yes--protest, no! On every community, on every religious there weighs a particular co-responsibility for the real presence of Christ, meek and humble of heart, in the world of today--of the crucified and risen Christ--Christ among brothers. This is the spirit of evangelical maximalism which is differentiated from any socio-political radicalism.4~ What the Holy Father reminded religious of in Manila has to be the direction for all religious: "Faithfulness to Christ in religious life requires a threefold fidelity: fidelity to the Gospel, fidelity to the Church, fidelity to the particular charism of 38To Religious Women, Kinshasha, Ioc. cir. p. 3. 39Rome, December 13, 1979. January 7, 1980. p. 12. ~°Kinshasha, Ioc. cir. p. 3. '~To Union of Superiors General of Men. Rome, November 24, 1978. December 7. 1978, p. 3. A Pope for Religious ] 809 your institute."4-~ This brings us to one of the most important demands regarding the apostolate of religious communities: collaboration. What is meant here is collaboration on every level: between organizations of major superiors with national conferences of bishops, between religious and ordinaries, between religious and diocesan priests, between religious and the laity. In view of the disruptions which have begun to appear in many places, the Holy Father emphatically and distinctly pointed to the function of uniting and of teaching that pertains to the authority of bishops. He is concerned that religious in their theological teaching and pastoral practice "not only accept but seek loyally an unbreakable unity of aim and action with their bishops. To the bishops the Lord entrusted the mission of feeding the flock. To religious it belongs to blaze the trails for evangelization. It cannot be. it ought not to be. that the bishops should lack responsible and active, yet at the same time, docile and trusting collaboration of the religious, whose charism makes them ever more ready agents at the service of the Gospel. In this matter everybody in the ecclesial community has a duty of avoiding magisteria other than the Church's magisterium, for they are ecclcsially unacceptable and pastorally sterile.43 Nobody knows better than the Holy Father how important, in every regard, is the inner unity of the Church. To his difficult task he brings the experience of a bishopfrom a country under the sway of communism. It is for the well-being of the life of the Church that he appeals to the spiritual capacity of religious to work for unity within the Church. To religious men in the cathedral in Manila he said: As religious you are in a position to make a special contribution to the promotion of the unity of the Church. Your experience of community life, common prayer, and corporate apostolic ¯ service prepares you for this task. May you dedicate yourselves to the great cause of unity with renewed vigor, seeking in a spirit of openness and respect to break down barriers of division and to encourage the progress of harmony and mutual collaboration.4~ Community Life Characteristic of the consecrated life of virginity, poverty and obedience is that it is not vowed and lived outside but inside a community. In his address to superiors general John Paul said: Community life is in fact an important element of religious life. It has been a characteristic of the lives of religious persons from the beginning because spiritual bonds cannot be created. developed and perpetuated unless through daily and prolonged relations. This community life, in evangelical charity, is closely linked with the mystery of the Church which is a mystery of communion and participation, and gives proof of your consecration to Christ. Make every effort that this community life may be facilitated and loved, becoming in this way a precious means of mutual help and personal fulfillment.45 Concretely the Holy Father admonished the superiors general to do everything 4"Lot. cir. p. 6. ~To Bishops of Latin America, Puebla, Ioc. cit,, p. 4. aLoe. cir., p. 7. ~STo Superiors General of Women. Ioc. cir., pp. 8. 12. 810/ Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 "that can contribute to union of minds and hearts. The world is very sensitive to the witness that good or bad religious communities are giving. A sisterly, fervent and authentic life is indispensable in order that women religious may cope, in a lasting way, with the obligations, toil and difficulties that a life of consecration and apostolate entails in the world today."a6 Moreover, the superior has a genuine human and spiritual obligation to take care that every individual feel responsible for building up the community: Acceptance of one's brother, with his qualities and his limitations, the effort to coordinate one's own initiatives with decisions matured together, the self-criticisms imposed by continu-ous confrontation with the evaluations and points of view of others, become not only a very effective training ground of human and Christian virtue but also a precious opportunity for constant verification of the earnestness with which one endeavors to put into practice in one's life the obligations assumed in the religious profession.47 "Charity begins at home!" The "neighbor," in the meaning of the Gospel, is first of all one's co-brother or co-sister. True love for this very concrete neighbor should urge everyone to "be concerned with the well-being of the brother and to put aside one's own advantage." "If a person endeavors day by day to bring into harmony the absolute necessity of silence and modesty with the other absolute necessity of participation in community life, then there grows in him the ability to act as a genuine person who stands in the right relationship with God and with the others." These answers about community which the Holy Father gave to the Benedictines hold true for all other religious communities as well. To make this kind of community life possible requires real authority in the superior. The exercise of authority, in a spirit of service and love for all the sisters, is a vital task, even though a difficult one, which calls for no little courage and dedication. The superior has the duty to help the sisters to realize their vocation more and more perfectly. She cannot shirk this obligation which is certainly an arduous but indispensable one. To carry out this duty calls for constant prayer, reflection, consultation, and also courageous decisions, in awareness of your personal responsibility before God, the Church, and the sisters themselves who expect this service. Weakness. like authoritarianism, are deviations that are equally harmful for the good of souls and the proclamation of the kingdom?~ The Holy Father reads the essence and practice of genuine authority in a very concentrated and fundamental way in what St. Benedict wrote in his Rule about the abbot as spiritual father. It contains such richness that it would be profitable for all superiors, men and women, to study the Rule of him who traditionally is thought to be the Father of monks and of orders, beginning with a personal meditation on John Paul's papal letter marking the fifteen-hundredth birthday of St. Benedict. There is yet another aspect of community life upon which the pope frequently ~lbid. *TTo Religious Brothers of Clerical and Lay Institutes, Rome, January 12, 1980. February 4, 1980, p. 9. '=STo the Union of Superiors General of Women, Ioc. cir., p. 12. A Pope for Religious / 811 touches, and which sheds light on the importance of community life for the Church and for the whole world: Having come to religious life from very different social environments, countries and even continents, you live in communities to bear witness--contrary to nationalistic feelings, preju-dices, sometimes hatred--to the possibility and the reality of this universal brotherhood, to which all people vaguely aspire.49 Communities (the one addressed here directly is that of the White Fathers) have to be and are ¯ . . witnesses that prejudices of race, class, nation and culture can be overcome for the kingdom of God. It is on this basis that you live your consecration to the mission. It is from this basis that you wish to advance along the ways of deep spiritual life, where the values of poverty, chastity and obedience find their whole meaning again, whether you are priests or brothers. The Pope deeply rejoices at this and encourages you from the bottom of his heart. The Church and the world today absolutely need those communities in which sharing and communion are not just words, but realities lived from day to day, with humility and enthusiasm. Is it necessary to add that such concrete expressions of brotherhood will be, in themselves, a call to the young and even adults of all countries, to take their place in your ranks and carry on in the future?~° "Community" should not only be lived within one's own convent and in one's own congregation. There is a very acute demand for cooperation among all orders and religious communities, ¯. whether you are dedicated to contemplation or engaged in the direct tasks of evangeliza-tion, to be on extremely fraternal terms among yourselves and among congregations, and to help one another, better and better, on three planes which seem to me essential: to see your consecration in the right way and carry it out courageously, to be eager to take part in the mission of the Church, to pursue a solid spiritual formation and judicious openness to realities of your age and your environmentP~ Were these, and the other many thoughts sketched by the Holy Father able to shed light into the darkened areas of our hearts, leading us once again into a deep joy over our religious communities, it would be an unequalled contribution to the unity of the Church! Self-ldentity The Holy Father recognizes that the topic of self-identiO, is "hot." This is why the concept, if not the word, so frequently recurs in his talks. Fundamentally, this concept is but a variation of the theme that he often stresses regarding the fidelity which the individual and the congregation should have to the charism of the respective founder. Now he broadens the idea, referring to the consecrated life as "religious," and then referring specifically to the religious man or woman. The urgency of the problem is evidenced by the following statements addressed to religious men in S~o Paulo: 49To Religious Women, Kinshasha, Ioc, cit. p. 2. ~OGeneral Chapter, December 15, 1980. February 2, 1981. p. 12. ~Kinshasha, Ioc. cir. p. 2. 1~12 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 In the pursuit of pastoral collaboration there is a frequent temptation to dilute as much as possible, almost to the point of extinction, that which characterizes and identifies religious life and religious [thcmselves]. It is clear that it is not helpful either for religious life or for collaboration. A religious priest, immersed in the apostolate alongside diocesan priests should show clearly by his attitude that he is a religious. The community should be able to sense it. The same should be said of a religious who is not a priest, or of a sister, in their respective collaboration with lay pcople.~-' The situation described by the Holy Father for women religious in Mexico also often applies to all religious: But there are not lacking, either, examples of confusion with regard to the very essence of consecrated life and one's own charism. Sometimes prayer is abandoned and is replaced by action: the vows are interpreted according to the secularizing mentality which dulls the religious motivation of one's own state; community life is abandoned with a certain irrespon-sibility; socio-political attitudes are adopted as the real aim to pursue, even with well-defined ideological radicalizations. And when the certainties of faith arc sometimes dimmed, motives arc put forward, such as the seeking of new horizons and experiences, perhaps with the pretext of being closer to men, when it may be a question of concrete groups chosen with criteria that are not always evangelical. Beloved sisters, never forget that to maintain a clear concept of the value of your conse-crated life you need a deep vision of faith which is nourished and preserved with prayer. This faith will enable you to overcome all uncertainty with regard to your own identity.5-~ The situation he thus sketches seems to be what lays behind the Holy Father's intense exhortation to religious women in Paris regarding external appearance: "Never be afraid to let your identity as women consecrated to the Lord be clearly recognized. Christians, and those who are not, have the right to know who you are!"54 The Holy Father's concern is not only in regard to an understanding of religious life in general. Even more does he touch upon the problem of identity in regard to the religious man and woman. In regard to religious men, the Holy Father expressed himself in very clear terms on the occasion of the celebration of the Benedictine centenary, when he spoke about spiritual fatherhood in a father-less world. Still more specifically, though only briefly, did he address religious women. The pope picked up and developed the phrase of the superiors general, "Let us first be Christians," coupled with the addition that some made, "Let us first be women," saying that, in his opinion, they are not mutually exclusive. They become one in the mystery which embraces the mission of women in a very special way, placing them directly in its center: the mystery of the Church as Mother and as Bride. This involves a lived surrender. There is. it seems, in a woman's body and heart an extraordinary disposition to make her life a royal offering to Christ as the one Bridegroom. This femininity--often considered by a certain public opinion as sacrificed in a foolish way in religious life--is, as a matter of fact. reformed 5~-Loc. cit. p. 7. 53January 27. 1979. L'Osservatore Romano. February 12, 1979. p. 4. A Pope for Religious and expanded on a higher plane: that of the kingdom of God. For example, physical fecundi-ty, which has such a great place in African tradition, as well as attachment to the family, are values that can be lived by the African sister within a far wider and ever renewed community, and to the benefit of an absolutely astonishing spiritual fecundityPS It should make us wonder why there is a lack of community spirit, of loneli-ness, of unrecognized and unlived womanhood in some religious women when there is such a natural foundation in the very being of woman. It is hard to live the dignity of woman in accordance with God's plan when the natural foundation has hardly been tapped. Those who are concerned with the formation of young reli-gious should keep this in mind. Otherwise it would be impossible to fulfill what the Holy Father rightly expects of religious women: "The witness of a harmonious and mature personality, which is able to establish relations with others without unjusti-fied prejudices or ingenuous imprudence, but with cordial openness and serene balance."56 St. Catherine of Siena is for the Holy Father "a masterpiece of grace, renewing and raising the creature to the perfection of holiness, which is also the full realiza-tion of the fundamental values of humanity," in this case, of being a woman. In her nature as a woman, [Catherine] was generously endowed with imagination, intuition, sensitiveness, willpower and industry, with capability and power of communication, with readiness for giving of herself and for service. She is transfigured, but not impoverished in the light of Christ who calls her to be his bride and to identify herself mystically with him in the depth of "interior knowledge" as well as to commit herself in charitable, social, and even political action, in the midst of the great and the ordinary, the rich and the poor. the learned and the ignorant.$7 What stands out the most, in all apostolates, is always hidden service. This apostolate is usually hidden, near to the human being, and so more suited to a woman's soul. sensitive to her neighbor, and hence called to the task of a sister and mother. It is precisely this vocation which is at the very "heart" of your religious being. As Bishop of Rome I beg you: Be spiritually mothers and sisters for all the people of this Church which Jesus. in his ineffable mercy and grace, has wished to entrust to me. Be this for everyone, without exception, but especially for the sick, the suffering, the abandoned, the children, the young, families in difficult situations . Go out towards them! Do not wait for them to come to you! Look for them yourselves! Love drives us to do so!~ Difficulties, Experimentation, Renewal The pope is a realist. He sees the tremendous interior and exterior difficulties with which the whole Church must contend today: young Christians on the way to making their life-decisions, Christians in religious communities, and especially those who must bear their responsibility as superiors. John Paul II does not try to ~ Loc. cir. p. 7. 55Kinshasha, Ioc. c#., p. 2. 5~At Rome. Ioc. cir., p. 10. STCelebration of the Sixth Centenary of St. Catherine of Siena. St. Peter's Basilica. April 30, 1980. June 23. 1980, p. 7. ~STo Religious Women, Rome, lot'. tit. p. 5. 814 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 minimize the number of difficulties, as, for example, when to religious at Czesto-chowa he spoke of times "when you will have to endure inward or outward suffering or darkness."~9 Difficult to accept also are "the rapid social changes in a country, or the small number and the aging of your°subjects."~0 But the Holy Father is even more radical in addressing the topic of other "difficulties." He searches out roots which quite possibly come not from outside but from within the hearts of those who are called: Why is our testimony sometimes in vain? Because we present Jesus without the whole attrac-tive power of his Person, without revealing the riches of the sublime ideal that following him involves, because we do not always succeed in showing a conviction, expressed in real life, with regard to the stupendous value of our dedication to the great ecclesial cause that we serve.6~ This summation could very likely serve as an examination of conscience for many today. To the International Assembly of Superiors General in Rome the Holy Father mentioned still other kinds of difficulties. Throughout he shows great insight and gives clear directives for resolving them within--or at least making them bearable. The Holy Father ¯ . . wishes to give [religious] encouragement and comfort in the accomplishment of a commitment that is always demanding, often accompanied by the sign of the cross and by painful solitude, and which calls, on the side [of you superiors] for a deep sense of responsibil-ity. a generosity without weakness and confusion, and constant forgetfulness of yourselves. You, in fact, must sustain and guide your sisters in this post-conciliar period, which is certainly rich in new experiences, but also so exposed to errors and deviations, which you try to avoid and correct.62 This is not at all to suggest that John Paul II seeks to block all experimenta-tion. Were this so, he would not have asked the mothers general, in the face of"the wind of interminable researches and experiments: accept all these realities. Take them seriously, never tragically. Seek calmly for gradual, clear and courageous solutions.6~ No step forward in any direction is possible, unless starting from those already taken, but, vice versa, to stop at the latter is a sign of sterile stagnation,u The years of searching, sometimes of uncertainty and unrest have been years of purifica-tion. No~; we should be entering a period of consolidation and of construction.6~ After the years of experience, aimed at updating religious life, according to the spirit of the 59"1"o Women Religious, Jasna Gora, June 5, 1979. July 2. 1979, p. 4. ~'°To Union of Mothers General, Ioc. cit., p. 3. 6~To the Clergy, Religious and Seminarians of Santo Domingo, January 26, 1979. February 5, 1979, p. 10. 62To Union of Superiors General of Women, Ioc. cir., p. 8. 6~To Union of Mothers General, Ioc. cir., p. 3. 6~To Union of Superiors General of Men, Rome, November 26. 1979. December 24, 1979, p. 5. 6~Maynooth, Ioc. cit. p. 5. A Pope for Religious Institute, the time has come to evaluate objectively and humbly the attempts made. in order to rec.ognize their positive elements and any deviations and to answer them accordingly,u' [One should also] apply oneself humbly and courageously, when necessary, to correct, suspend, or direct in a more opportune way the experiments that are being carried out.~'7 Two criteria, among others, seem the most important: The first is that religious life is not truly renewed if the purpose of the renewal is, in practice, the pursuit of what is easiest and most convenient, but only if the purpose is the pursuit of what is most authentic and most consistent with the aims of religious life itself. The second criterion is that religious life is renewed in order to become even more a path of holiness.6~ The overall basis of everything that the Holy Father says to Christians who have embraced religious life, in spite of all difficulties, is joy and hope. "This is a wonderful time to be a priest, to be a religious, to be a missionary for Christ. Rejoice in the Lord always. Rejoice in your vocation."69 With this inner conviction, the Holy Father, as witness of hope, spoke to young people in the world on the World Day of Prayer for Vocations (May 6, 1979): You will meet difficulties. Do you think that 1 do not know about them? I am telling you that love overcomes all difficulties. The true response to every vocation is the work of love. The response to the priestly, religious and'missionary vocation can only spring from a deep love of Christ. He himself offers you this power of love, as a gift that is added to the gift of his call and makes your response possible. Trust in "him who, by the power at work within us, is able to do far more abundantly than all that we wish or think" (Ep 3:20). And, if you can, give your life, with joy and without fear, to him who first gave his for you.7° Orders and the Entire Church Many of the topics fundamental to the theme of this heading have already been discussed. The pope never tries to be too specific in pointing out concrete aspects as they fit into the overall picture. Religious have to be people ,who "love the Church" (S~o Paulo).7~ "Fidelity to Christ is inseparable from fidelity to the Church, especially in religious life" (Washington).n But this cannot remain true merely on the level of words, It must be manifest in concrete life and activity: "[Its] bond of union with the Church must also be shown in the spirit and apostolic endeavors of every religious institute."73 Very concretely, this means that members of the Church, and thus also religious, must follow the direction of the Church--not with gritted teeth and interior distancing, but "with generous and faithful adherence to the true magisterium" (S~o Paulo).74 Basically ~To the Union of Superiors General of Women. Ioc. cir., p. 8. ~'TTo Religious Women. $5o Paulo. Ioc. tit., p. 4. ~'STo Religious Men. S.~o Paulo. Ioc. tit., p. 7. ~Maynooth. Ioc. cir., p. 6. 70pope's Message for XVI World Day of Prayer for Vocations. May 6. 1979. April 30. 1979. pp. 3. 12. 7~To Religious Women. S-~o Paulo. Ioc. cir., p. 4. 72To Religious Women. Washington. Ioc. cir., p. 3. 731bid. 1~16 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec. 1982 this is all one problem: obedience. Obedience to the charism of the founder, obedience within the community, obedience towards those in authority in the Church. This connection goes even deeper: It has often been noted that there is a close connection between the fervor of the religious life of a country and the condition of the Church in that country: fervent religious life means a living and apostolic Church: where that fervor grows cold, the vitality of the local Church is reduced. If. by mischance, tepidity and mediocrity were to set in. they would soon be reflected among the Christian people. On the other hand, throughout the history of the Church, when she has been assailed by crises, it has always been the religious life that has given the signal for a reawakening and a renewed fidelity to the Gospel.75 These words demonstrate again that the pope never points out dangers with-out, at the same time, showing a positive side! In this instance, as in all others, it is necessary to "go back to the very roots of a sound ecclesiology as revealed by Vatican !!."76 The addresses of the Holy Father are not only marked by the spirit of Vatican I1, but also by the very words of the Council. This would be a very easy thing to trace through each of these citations here. but such would be beyond the scope of this paper. Finally, there is no more beautiful document about the inner unity of religious congregations and the Church than the "Pope's Letter to the Superior General of Discalced Carmelites on the Occasion of the Teresian Year.''77 It well merits frequent meditation. Mary Except in Germany (Alt6tting, November 16, 1980), the Holy Father, though he does not build his talks on Mary, does point towards the Mother of the Lord in all of them. This pervasiveness underscores the importance for us not only to acknowledge, but to ponder with renewed fervor and attention in our hearts what the Holy Father says in regard to the significance of Mary for the spiritual life, and espe-cially for religious life. Whoever finds difficulty with this might well let the off-repeated proclamation of the Holy Father become a vital question for his own life: Why is Mary the "model of every spiritual life," as the pope never tires of pointing out (Mexico, Manila, and so forth). Could not Mary become my model again? What does the Holy Father mean when he says that her "fiat" in Nazareth is the "prototype of every religious profession"? (Czestochowa). Why is genuine union with Mary a true "protection for the consecrated life"? (Rome). And do we--each one of us--really need this protection? Why does the Holy Father entrust each "seed of a 74To Religious Women. Ioc. cir. p. 4, 75To Religious Women. Baclaran. Ioc. cir., p. 5. 7~'Homily, World Day for Vocations. May 10, 1981. May 25. 1981. p. 3. 77November 9. 1981, pp. 8-10. A Pope for Religious / 1117 religious vocation to our Lady"?. (Czestochowa). And why do we need her interces-sion in our prayers for vocations? (Rome). And if the mission of a woman is so "deeply interwoven with the mystery of the Church" (Centenary of St. Catherine of Siena) because the Church in her essence is Mother and Bride, would Mary not be at the same time "Mother of the Church" and "the human picture of the Church"?. (General Chapter of Franciscans). Would she not be the key to solve all the present heated discussions in regard to the theme, "Women in the Church"?. Of course, pondering all that the Holy Father has said about religious life and Mary, we cannot stop with asking ourselves questions. Each characteristic descrip-tion of Mary, the Mother of the Lord, as "Model of the Church" (Franciscans, AIt6tting), "Queen of Martyrs" (Nagasaki), "Mother of Monks" (Monte Cassino) and many others, offers unlimited source for meditation. Would it be possible that here the Holy Father also wanted to give a fresh impetus to many religious? It Is Worth It! Whoever truly lives a consecrated life in generous and dynamic fidelity to Christ, to the Church, and to the demands of his calling and mission, serves the goal of which the Holy Father reminded religious women in Washington: The aim of religious life is to render praise and glory to the. Most Holy Trinity and, through your consecration, to help humanity enter into fullness of life in the Father, and in the Son, and. in the Holy Spirit. In all your planning and in all your activities, try also to keep this aim before you. There is no greater service you can give, there is no greater fulfillment you can receive.7s It is worth dedicating oneself to the cause of Christ, who wants valiant and decided hearts: it is worth devoting oneself to man for Christ, in order to bring him to Him, to raise him, to help him on his way to eternity: it is worth making an option for an ideal that will give you. great joys, even if at the same time it demands a good many sacrifices. The Lord does not abandon his followers.~ In this appeal to the diocesan and religious seminarians in Mexico, the Holy Father brought to a distinct focus his urgent concern for the consecrated life and the service of religious. May those who have received the gift of a call to this life and service receive these words into their hearts with courage and joy. Like Pope John Paul 11, may they, in the service of God, be convincing Witnesses of the Lord before men, especially before the young who are in search ofa way of life. It is worth it! 7~To Religious Women. Washington. Ioc. cir. p. 3. 7'~To the Seminarians at Guadalajara. Ioc. cir. p. 4. Thoughts at an Ordination Vera Gallagher, R.G.S. Sister Vera's last article in our pages was "An American Experience of Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity" in the issue of July/August. 1981. Sister resides at 2702 Broadway East; Seattle. WA 98102. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Invoking the Three in One, their majesty, their grandeur, we begin your Ordination Mass, Tony and Ott. And 1 think long thoughts. We pray for you, you called in a particular way as servants of the Most High, and we watch you, you with the youthful vigor and the radiant energy and the vision evernew, and we wonder whether you--or any of us--comprehend that call to servitffde that is yours/ours, and what it may involve. Servants all! All of us, for God has made us. And we live out our lives in contradiction to a culture generally indifferent, occasionally at enmity with all we believe. Today's saints--the Lord's servants--are surprises: -a Secretary General of the United Nations, a mystic: a tiny, wizened woman, a foundress of four religious orders; a street man with a gift of prayer, my friend, even as he kneels among bums in our Skid Road; ¯ that poor wretch in his cell on MacNeil Island (our penitentiary) a friend of God: that family in the suburbs, all His friends. You will meet them all where they are, working in factories, programming computers, pleading at the bar, driving trucks. The Lord who had formed you from the womb calls you to serve them, to inspire, to guide to holiness, to lead. That is your challenge--for "God did not give 818 Thoughts at an Ordination / 1119 ¯. a spirit of timidity but a spirit of power and love and self-control" (2 Tm !:6-7), as goes the reading that you chose. Alleluia, Alleluia.t The vaulted ceiling of our cathedral does indeed ring with the alleluias flung out from hundreds of throats, accentuated by trumpet peal and organ blare and the roll of the drums. Alleluia! For today, yes indeed! But your lives will not be alleluias. You know that. But how deeply have you internalized your knowledge? We are not candi-dates, none of us, for self-fulfillment or realization or attainment. One only comes to know God--and no greater joy has been created than that transcendent knowl-edge- by a process of ascetic self-emptying and self-naughting. Opportunities in plenty you will have! Catholic people have such expectations of their priests that one who hears them knows why Jesus was crucified--and why he would be crucified again. And they are good people, all of them. They mean well. "If I, then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, so you also ought to wash one another's feet" (Jn 13:!4). Servantship can glitter even as it beckons-- your ideal! But the reality is boring, foot-slugging, day-in-and-day-out: the phone, the doorbell, the daily homily, the marriages, the sickbeds, the deaths. Of course the "hiddenness" of sanctity is a theme you will have already explored--a hiddenness seldom found today, perhaps, in the monastic cloister or the hermit's cell, but found often enough in the everydayness, the sterility, the orderliness of middle-class existence. We who are sometimes lost in everydayness as surely as the ancient Fathers lost themselves in the desert are yet the ones who carry about in our pockets the lost coin, the grain of mustard seed, the deed to the acre of land with its as-yet-undiscovered treasure buried there. The Archbishop's sermon on the reading you chose from John I could not hear, since I sat behind his back. But I know that he talked of the cross towards the end. Celibacy may be your greatest cross--oh, not in itself, but in the general hostility expressed towards it. And your celibacy will be attacked, often, and by good people: other priests, nuns, singles, married couples--and by your own rational minds. Because, of course, it makes no sense. None whatever to rational minds. But you have promised it. What you do, Tony and Ott, will make little difference to this world of ours, one way or the other. What you are, though, counts. The saints began life much as you and I: not really bad, not especially good, just mediocre. But they smashed the plaster mold of this world's expectations, and they loved much. They rose above everydayness, yet not in spectacular fashion. Benedict Joseph Labre died a bum. Mat Talbot, a recovering alcoholic. Jacob Lieberman, an epileptic. And the Cur6 of Ars never did get his M. Div.! We have not yet canonized anyone who regularly visited a psychiatrist. But we will. We will indeed. I have digressed from celibacy, meaning only to say that the saints are those caught by a vision which changed their lives, and transformed those around them, because they clung to that vision. Saints are eschatological signs to our poor, 1~20 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 befuddled world--such signs as you are called to be, Tony and Oft. Hol, v. Holy. Holy. You have been called forth and examined and prayed over. You have been consecrated and ordained. And, in the abandonment of our joy, we sing "Holy!" Holy. the Lord God of hosts. To touch and to meet that Holy is the purpose of our lives. The only sadness is not to be a saint. The only failure is not to have tried. But to have found that Holy for only one glimpse, one in a lifetime--what is that? Possibly 1 know less than most. But i shall dare to respond. It is a joy, a tremulous, trembling joy, a joy which comes not from pain, but which transcends pain even as it confounds pain. It is vision, the vision at midnight when, because the darkness is so black, the glimmer of light shines clear, an effervescent, irretrievable light of shifting shape. It is peace, the still silence amidst the raucous clanging of the downtown streets at rush hour. It is fire, the flame which burns but does not consume, and which, in conguming, bears bursting life. And is it worth it? Oh yes, indeed. A million times yes. May the body of our Lord Jesus Christ preserve our souls unto life everlasting. Amen. We Are Anointed and Sent Out Through Sacrament of Priesthood We [priests] are all anointed in a special way and we are sent out through the sacrament of the priesthood. Among those whom Christ made and always continues to make "a kingdom of priests" we are priests in a special, sacramental way. All of us have also drawn upon, in a special way, the fulness of the messianic power that was revealed on the "today" of Christ's Holy Thursday. This "today" is our day. It is our feast. We were born along with the Eucharist, and so we were born together with the Church in the room of the Last Supper. In instituting the sacrifice in which the Church is constantly recreated, Christ at the same time consecrated priests, ministers of his sacrifice. He said: ~Do this in remembrance of me" (I Co 11:25). And we do it. We all do it, those of us gathered here and the priests of the entire Church with whom we are united today in a profound, sacramental brotherhood (John Paul II. Mass of Chrism, 8 April." L'Osservatore Romano, 19 April, 1982, p. 6). Advent: Not Ours But God's Daniel McLellan, O.F.M. Father Mcl,ellan is a student in a doctoral program in American history concentrating on American Catholicism. He resides at 317 Brownson: University of Notre Dame: Notre Dame, IN 46556. In a few weeks our time of waiting will be over. But today we are still anticipating. We still await the one who is to come. Patiently we look forward to the promised one who will come upon us from the stillness of the skies. We wait for the one who comes to fulfill our dreams and expectations. He is the one who knows us: the one in whose sight we live. Be it darkness or light, he sees us. "He sees us when we're sleeping / He knows when we're awake / He knows if we've been bad or good / So be good for goodness' sake." Thus began one of the more provocative Advent homilies I've heard. Naturally the congregation thought the homilist was talking about someone else. But that confusion always seems to happen at Advent time--Santa Claus/Jesus; Jesus/ Santa Claus. It's hard to tell the difference! Even though they are venerated in different .~hrines, with different rites; even though the votive offerings to one far outweigh ~hose to the Other, there still remains a great deal of confusion. Both "arrive" on the same day, and the time of preparation is the same. A common sense of waiting, anticipation, further binds the two. And nobody really seems to mind. But there is "something to mind." There is a frightening clash of symbols. Both Jesus and Santa Claus evoke notions of grace and charity, the extension of kindness and generosity. Yet Santa Claus is never enough; we soon outgrow him. Jesus is "too much"; we continue to grapple with him. The task of unclashing the symbols mediated by this season begins in how we perceive Advent. Unless this perception is carefully focused, we will be guilty of abusing the Incarnation, the enfleshment of God, by limiting the consequences of that mystery to seasons and festivals in much the same ways that earned Israel 821 1122 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 Yahweh's condemnation and disgust. The fruitfulness of Advent time and its integrity within the totality of our lives depends upon our ability to retrieve the season's meaning within the context of our lives as a people of faith who are invested with a peculiar call. As we make the focus of our Advent more precise we remember that there are many things right with our world. Despite recent setbacks, efforts are continuing to empower more and more people to have a say in the organization and working out of their own lives. Culturally, there is still a wholesome sensitivity to the need to overcome that ethnic imperialism that fails to recognize the relativity of one's socio-cultural value system; socially we continue to find men and women, despite the so-called narcissism of the seventies, looking to one another for a more vital sense of community. While the news is good least of all in the economic sphere, even this dimension reflects a basic willingness to attend to the restructuring of trade and investment for a global economy. In the world of religious there are signs that the old "either/or" dichotomy (Word or Sacrament, nature or grace) that was partitive within and between churches is being replaced with a deeper appreciation of the "both/and" synthesis (Scripture and tradition, freedom and authority). We have taken note of Teilhard's alert that the most profound move-ment is often the most imperceptible. And yet there is more that remains to be done. Apathy and ignorance still overwhelm the political process; cultural sophistication is still judged by narrow criteria; Moynihan's "benign neglect~ has become the strategy of dealing with the other; recession and unemployment continue to erode the self-esteem and incentive of millions. In the world of religion, the call to,community is still too often a disguise for flight into personal irresponsibility. This season of Advent can be an opportunity to meditate on the work of our lives and the vigor with which that work is carried out on behalf of those to whom we, as Christians, have been promised. Jesus reminded us that, upon setting out to accomplish a task, we ought to assess the situation and see whether or not our resources are sufficient. Perhaps we ought to spend a few moments retrieving the meaning of Advent as a resource enabling us more genuinely and effectively to accept God and the power of God in our lives for the sake of the many. What is Advent? Few would disagree that it is considered a time of waiting, a time of preparation. But for whom? For what? ls it Christ? In what sense? The historical Jesus has come and worn our flesh and blood. If we are awaiting that Jesus, our Advent is a contrivance: four weeks of having to psychologically shift gears everytime we light an Advent wreath, because there can be little real excite-ment, wonder, or urgency about an event whose history we have so long manipu-lated. Or perhaps the theme of our waiting is the coming again of that Jesus. But what happens on December 26th? These four weeks of waiting,, metaphor of our lives, are over, and we return to our very real preoccupation .with the present in which few of us give any thought to that final coming. In each case--the anticipa-tion of the birthday, the acknowledgment of the return--there is little of substance to engage our life in a critical way that penetrates into more than these four weeks. Advent: Not Ours But God's / 823 And so before long the other symbol, the other waiting intermingles, and our Advent collapses into a tinsel-and-light festival that has some spiritual overtones, but is centrally and primarily for each of us a commercial salute to the neighborli-ness we share. Now there is nothing wrong with that type of celebration. But it ought to be recognized for what it is. And yet, for all that, it seems to me that the yearly anniversary of Jesus' birth can be meaningfully celebrated in a way that engages the depth of our whole selves. But that can only happen when we make a radical shift in our perception of what Advent time is. The season is a time of waiting and anticipation, but it is not ourselves who wait--it is God. The Eternal One, who again and again has shown himself to be no stranger to history, waits for us to use an anniversary celebration to remind ourselves of that claim which that anniversary makes upon us by virtue of our incorporation into the life of Jesus. Advent is not so much our invention to structure our waiting for Christmas as it is God's invention to keep us ready for the fullness of life non, and forever. When we wait, whether it be for an exam result, a holiday, or the results of a job interview, we know we have expectations. And so it is with God. Advent is filled with God's expectation of us. To understand what God expects of us we look at the way he speaks to us. The Scripture readings for the last week of the liturgical year are taken from either Daniel or Revelation: apocalyptic scripture, scripture for a time of crisis, a time of decision. We begin Advent in a spirit of crisis, of decision. We begin Advent knowing that, One like the Son of Man is coming on the clouds of heaven. He received dominion, glory, and kingship: nations and peoples of every language serve him. His dominion is an everlasting dominion that shall not be taken away His kingship shall not be destroyed (Dn 7:13, 14). It is a kingship that presides over a "new heavens and a new earth." ¯ . : the kingship and dominion and majesty of all the kingdoms under the heavens shall be given to the holy people of the most high Whose kingdom shall be everlasting: All dominions shall serve and obey him (Dn 7:27). And the final words, Remember, 1 am coming soon! Happy the man who heeds the prophetic message of this book. (Rv 22:20). When Advent is our waiting time, what is the horizon that sets that waiting in focus? We wait not in promise of something new but in the midst of powers, dominions, and idealogies that too often obscure even the best within ourselves, let alone the potential of one another. The result is a tired and worn world view that 1~24 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 deadens the impact of Christmas. A Santa Claus, tinsel and lights are all needed to invigorate the season. But when the season is a coming face-to-face with a waiting God to whom we must answer, a God whose inbreaking establishes a dominion, a lordship that once for all lays claim on all peoples, that makes a difference. A whole new theme is set. God waits for us to accept and appropriate the new person Jesus whose birth marks the "inbreaking" of God's kingdom, whose source of life is imbedded in the future. It is only the light of what it is that God waits for us to appropriate--the power of his yet-to,be realized kingdom--that Advent time.has (or can have) any appeal. Advent prayer is filled with the promise of men and women who beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks [where] one nation shall not raise the sword against another nor shall they train for war (Mi 4:3). These words are set against the horizon of one whose kingdom shall be ever-lasting. It will be a kingdom in which the wolf shall be a guest of the lamb and the leopard shall lie down with the kid (Is I 1:6). The kingdom promises to be one in which death is destroyed forever and the lofty city is brought down, "trampled underfoot by the needy, by the footsteps of the poor." In this kingdom the deaf shall hear the words of a book and out of gloom and darkness the eyes of the blind shall see. The lowly shall find joy in the Lord and the poor rejoice in the holy one of Israel (Is 29:18,19). If Advent were a time of our waiting, these words would probably have little meaning; they would sketch a way of life bearing little or no resemblance to the world we know--a world in which the majority of us have already mandated our authorities to beat ploughshares into spears: a world that feeds its paranoia on differing ideologies; a world where relief of the suffering becomes fact only if the trickle falls far enough. When Advent is our waiting, the messianic promises mediated through Isaiah and the other sacred writers become scenes sentimental-ized in art or easily set aside as wonderful but ultimately a fancy that is, after all, impractical. And so its "onward Donner and Blitzen"--at least Master Card makes that fantasy graspable. But what if Advent is God's waiting? What if God waits for us to see things as he does? If Advent becomes the vision of what is possible for those who decide in favor of the kingdom of God, who take God at his word that the future~fulfillment of his promise has already begun to unfold in our midst through him whose birth Advent: Not Ours But God's we commemorate, then there is no excuse for disclaiming the reality of Isaiah's vision. We live at a time when the global village becomes smaller and smaller, a contraction that raises the temperature of interpersonal, international, and inter-cultural relations. We know that for all our differences which work themselves out ¯ in a multitude of ways, enormous tensions still threaten life as we know it. The disparity of life-styles between North and South, West and East; the persistent attempts at political hegemony by first and second world powers over vast por-tions of the world; the refusal of the "haves" to invest in the future of the "have nots"; the pursuit of value-free research subscribing only to the agenda of positiv-ism; nationalism based on consumerism--all of these difficulties ground us in the sober reality of the so-called practical. Lest anyone conclude that these macro-issues lack practicality within the con-text of our local experience, a brief look at the consequences of these conditions reveals how much they impinge upon the experience of each of us. Where differences in life-styles are severe, the price of natural resources, eco-nomically and politically, continues to rise as the developing countries which have what we "need"(e.g. tin, oil) demand a greater share in the fruits of these resources. Thus we experience a rise in our consumer prices. The struggle for political hegemony demands more sophisticated weaponry purchased at the cost of endowments to the arts, research grants, and college loans. A refusal to share and to cooperate with the "have nots" leads to the realization of what Kempis saw centuries ago, "A man who is tense and agitated by evil is troubled with all kinds of suspicions; he is never at peace with himself, nor does he permit others to be at peace." The evil of poverty and want breeds a world of suspicion and resentment that undercuts all attempts at peace and cooperation. Researchers whose only standard i's "progress" soon see people and the common good as obstacles to scientific breakthroughs. Knowledge ceases to be responsible or integrated within the totality of the common good. Finally, when who-we-are is based on what-we-consume or on our potential for consumption, we relegate the non-consumer, the poor, to the mai'gin of society. When what you are is what you wear or what you drive, when where you live is a "statement,~ what value is placed upon a "bag lady"? These issues condition the way we hear the promises and discern the contours of God's kingdom. They are such massive and complicated problems that they leave many of us numb. We retreat. We cannot believe that the energy of God's k.ingdom can accomplish the promise of the kingdom in the world we know. And so, as is commonsensical in the face of such a conclusion, we find ourselves caught up in an ethic of accommodation that lets us slowly extricate ourselves politically, socially, religiously, economically and culturally, till our yeast grows old and our salt goes fiat. What is needed at this critical moment is the sense that Advent is a metaphor of our lives, a reminder that our life and work is caught up in that future alluded to in Daniel and Revelation, and sketched out in the words of Isaiah. Advent is the 1126 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 season to recall that God who loves us and calls us now waits for us to lay claim to what he has loved us for and called us to--the completion of his creation. What is needed to fulfill God's waiting is for us to use the tools of faith, hope, and suffering to mediate the energy of God's kingdom, insinuating it first into our individual lives and then, by those lives, into the arena of the public life to which our talents and interests call us. The outcome of this is the vision of the prophets: a world of peace, of greater trust, of sacrificial sharing of resources. Scripture, in the book of Proverbs, reminds us that where there is no vision, the people perish. Magdalen, Zaccheus, Matthew, Paul all lived because Jesus had a vision of what his life could inaugurate. The question for me, for you is: do I give life? Only if we believe, only if we hope, only if we suffer. Whenever we reflect on faith we come to realize that we are. involved in that ~right now/not yet" relationship with the life of Jesus which a gospel describes: "Lord 1 believe, help my unbelief.~' The man who speaks these words is a grief-wracked father who, for too long, has helplessly watched the agonies of his pos-sessed son. The father has come to the point where he sees that the fulfillment of his need is only possible through the exercise of Jesus' power, through the penetra-tion of Jesus' life into the life of his sick boy. The man is convinced of this. He is committed to Jesus--yet he is honest enough to admit the relativity of this moment at the feet of Jesus. This man lays his great love there because he is convinced that Jesus can act on his behalf. He seems sure that Jesus' attention can change things. In front of the crowd of witnesses the man commits himself---"l believe"---to what Jesus can do, to what is possible under the power of God. And his further "help my unbelief," far from being a compromise of that conviction and commitment, is a testimony to the depth of the man's trust. There is no certainty-- there is faith. There is not the solid proof of hard logic--there is faith. Teetering on the edge of the possibility that nothing will happen--that the power of possession will frustrate Jesus--the father makes his confession of faith face-to-face with impracticality, embarrassment, and all the other diminishments that are the real frustrations and enemies of belief. The Scriptures tell us that the enemy was defeated. In a word the father grasps and is grasped by the kingdom of God in both its immediacy and its futurity. Thus faith is the way, in the here and now, that we live in the kingdom of God. For us, then, the question at. hand is the question of faith: Do you believe? Can you lay your life before God convinced that no one, nothing else can bring you worth and happiness--all the while makin~ this act of faith in the face of people, events, ideologies that suggestively contend the impact and relevance of Jesus in a technological age? Do you believe in Jesus? Is he decisive? Is he the way, the truth, the life in a lived way? History teaches us that it is not enough for women and men like ourselves to point to our surroundings, the observables of our environment; it is not enough to call attention to VOWS, to orders, even to baptism as evidence for ourselves, and the world, that we believe in Jesus. The most striking evidence that we are people of faith is the way we answer the question: what is my future? Perhaps we answer that Advent: Not Ours But God's / 1127 our future is to live and die a ,wife, a husband, a religious; to live and die a minister to the needs of the Church; perhaps our future is to execute a teaching, publishing or administrative career--in a word to play out the whole constellation of enter-prises that so many of us do so capably. And yet all this is not the stuff of that faith which is necessary if we would satisfy a waiting God. We can only lay claim to be people of genuine faith and thus, as Christians, lay claim to be honest if we confess that God and the ways of God are our future. In our times it is easy tO forget this God, to become occupied by the many ventures that claim to mediate this God. A quick survey of the last twenty years reveals a galaxy of brilliant theologians, of tremendously gifted church men and women who have crafted provocative theological syntheses, who have opened up the long-forgotten history of the community's liturgical life, who have gleaned helpful insights from the social sciences to be integrated into the processes of spiritual development, And yet in all of this there seems to be so little of God! Why is this? Perhaps the problem is that many of us are uncomfortable and even embar-rassed that God is our future. Even though in conventional discourse "future" connotes a certain open-endedness, we are co-opted by our culture which chafes under the provisional. We, like the biologist or chemist, the politician, the investiga-tive reporter or social worker, want to provide an answer--a helpful finality--to .the critical problems of our day. We want to come up with something that assuages the uncertainty that breeds alienation among the people we love. We cannot bear to admit that in and of our own resources we have not in all our centuries come up with the answer to the problem of sin and evil, to sickness and death, or to the true, the good, the beautiful. We are faced with the hard fact that these solutions belong to God and to his unforeseen future. And so, living out of step with the brokers of solutions, we strive to fall into step, to recover the cadence, and we end up canonizing the means at the expense of the end. What is necessary is to come to terms with the fact that if we confess God, the future becomes quite different. The future becomes, not merely the temporal sphere of unbridled poten-tial, but the fulfillment of a promise that we are no strangers to, the fulfillment of Daniel and Revelation that Isaiah made bold to sketch. To give evidence, to witness to this in a world so often convinced that its own mind and resources are sufficient, is a hard task. For we, too, are mere compassionate persons who are overwhelmed by the desire for an answer, a solution. What our faith needs, then, is hope. A believer's hope is not a hand-wringing anxiety that one's wish will come true. Neither is it dispassionate anticipation. Hope, rather, is the trust one has that the human adventure which in history enfleshes God's kingdom will not fail, that the "radical risk" of human freedom, i.e. the conferral of divinity on us, will not end in the disaster of men and women rejecting what they are. Hope owns the day when what Jesus could not work in Nazareth will be worked here. But this hope only takes shape when a person of conviction believes that in, with, and through Jesus he or she can make "an ultimate and radical and irreversible decision" regarding the future, whether it will be a fulfillment or an everlasting loss. 1~911 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 Hope is the virtue by which we take responsibility for God's future. It is not imposed. And it it not simply "my" but "our" future that falls into our hands. Hope is an active consciousness that engages us in the structuring and unfolding of human life because we know that God's future, our destiny, does not oppose the existing structures of the world. We know that God's promise involves a connection between the future and the present. In other words, our unforeseen future emerges out of faith to see political, social, cultural, economic, and religious engagement as necessary cooperation with God. The person of hope is one who recognizes that the efforts of even one person can invest a desperate situation with God's saving power. Our tradition is replete with persons like Francis, Dorothy Day, Frederic Ozanam, and Teresa of Cal-cutta, persons whose faith-action was not dependent on a movement or a commit-tee, but instead generated these support structures. What these Christians show us is that hope enables faith to speak to the world a word about God. But they also show us that the price of a hopeful faith is suffering. We are a people of signs--from "1700" shirts to pottery Communion cups to the environments we create in our homes. Signs reflect what we believe, and they sometimes call us to grasp what we don't yet strongly believe. Thus ifa hope-filled faith is or ought to be characteristic of our lives, then we ought to be lavish with the Sign of the Cross. Those most conscious of how the power of the kingdom of God is exercised in the world are intimates of the Cross--witness Francis of Assisi. St. John tells us that the kingship of Christ is most evident on Calvary. What does this say to us? It reminds us that the work of a faith-filled hope is only accom-plished when oneis broken and poured out. Thus God's waiting is his challenge to renovate society and ourselves. If we would use the political process, or the tech-niques of an increasingly sophisticated communications field: if we would direct social and economic policy and power to rebuilding the world, without first rebuilding our own mind and heart, we build on sand. Personal conversion is the primary suffering that gives the life of the future. Jesus' agony was a moment of decision to accept not his, but the Father's will. The Advent of God's waiting bids us to hear the Baptist's echo of Isaiah: Prepare the way of the Lord. Every valley shall be filled and every mountain shall be leveled. The windings shall be made straight and the rough ways smooth (40:3.4). And if this is done-- all mankind shall see the Salvation of God (40:5). It is no easy thing to reshape the landscape of our lives individually and socially~ Yet that suffering, that conversion is the first point of Advent's agenda. We who challenge autocracy .a.nd oppressive measures in the political sphere Advent: Not Ours But God's / 1t29 should do so only after challenging our pride, our disobedience; we who call for a more just and compassionate distribution of the earth's good should do so only in the midst of a commitment to abandon our personal greed, false need, and con-sumerism; we who call others to community should speak only when we are conscious of our personal efforts to overcome self-centeredness; we who speak about God should only do so while learning to speak with God. The process of conversion is a suffering because it involves a breaking away from what heretofore has sustained us. It is a suffering because it is an action never completed. Thus Francis could speak of his and ours as a life of penance; thus Jesus could bluntly say that salvation depends on doing penance. The Sign of the Cross reminds us that continual discipline and mortification is critical for that personal conversion that sustains systemic conversion. We come upon a further dimension of the cross in our lives when we realize that, like St. Paul, we must be able to say, "if you would imitate Christ, imitate me." We must be a mirror in which persons and societies can look and see a reflection of what they and society ought to be. It is Crucial to proclaim the gospel in a language that men and women understand. That language is our own life-styles and conduct. What we proclaim is not "more of the same"; we proclaim Good News. Thus our life-styles and behavior must be good news. To be good news is to put on Christ, and when one puts on Christ, Jesus says-- They will manhandle and persecute you because of my name You will be brought to give witness on account of it You will be delivered up They will hate you because of me. The consequence of faith-filled hope is marginalization by those who find the good news of God's kingdom a threat to their own kingdoms. These are not evil, malicious people--they are those upon whom Jesus looked with love; they are genuinely threatened by the gospel message and all who attempt to live it. They have trusted, not in God's future, but in their hard-won political base, financial fortune, social success, or theological sophistication. Because these persons are so often life's power brokers and trend setters, we are tempted to seek personal and communal legitimation from them. It is difficult to avoid this temptation. It is a painful thing to hand oneself over to subtle ridicule; to experience the trivialization of one's most significant values. And it is not a pain from which one can legitimately hide. St. Paul tells us to test everything and retain what is good. The experience of Elijah reminds us that God appears in the most unlikely of places. The person of faith and hope must be exposed to the full force of life--yet carefully select the good from the bad. Perseverance requires an inner strength forged by a vivid awareness that God waits for me to mediate his future; forged by an awareness of God's expectations of me. I emphasize the singular me, rather than the plural us because suffering has that quality of loneliness and abandonment that Jesus bore 1~30 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 witness to on the cross. Further, the us only takes shape as individuals are con-fron/ ed by the waiting God who gives us one-to-another to help each other fulfill those expectations. And so we stand in the face of Advent. What shall it be for us? Shall it be four weeks of tension between Santa and Jesus, Jesus and Santa, all coming to a close on December 26th as the too small jackets and the too large gloves go back and the beach wear comes out? Or shall it be a time to rethink God's relationship to me, to us; to remember that our task in life is to complete God's work of creation; to take responsibility for the future in which one, like a Son of Man, comes for an everlasting kingdom. God awaits our faith--that he is our future, that he is the end of human longing. God awaits our hope--that my life is given to make a differ-ence; that despite suffering and death, violence and hate, greed, disobedience--all the diminishments of sin--God's kingdom has, in Jesus to whom Scripture and tradition bear witness, broken into our present. Advent tells us that we are not waiting for God to act. Advent tells us that God has invested us with faith, hope. and suffering and now waits for us to recall each year that Jesus is our future, and we are invested with his power to make God's kingdom even greater. God waits for us to remember that a swaddled infant has, is, and will be a sign that we are not to be dismayed by what appears to be an overwhelming project. Today God waits for us to recall the urgency of doing good, of toking an active role in the issues of our day. And God waits for us to lay claim that what we have most of all to offer to the human adventure is a word of forgiveness, of God's love, of God's encouragement. We live Advent in crisis: God waits. He waits on faith, tie waits on hope, he waits on suffering. Does he, then, wait on us? The Practice of Penance Hence, an updating that would lead to a lessening of penance, that is to say. to a less generous, less joyful, less complete sacrifice of yourselves, would certainly not be in keeping with the Council or with the charism of your Holy Mother. In fact, fidelity to the practice of penance also promotes the exercise of fraternal charity. total detachment and authentic humility which remain the three hinges of the way of perfection (Way IV, 4): at the same time, penance denotes that characteristic and essential element of Carmelite experience which Saint 3ohn of the Cross, intrepid cooperator with Saint Teresa in the reform of your Order. has with masterly skill expressed in the absolute of the todo-nada.--John Paul II. letter to Discah'ed Carmelites on the Fourth Centenary of the Death ~f Saint Teresa, L'Osservatore Romano. 19 Ju~v, 1982, p. 3. Two Knowings Lorna Green Doctor Green has pursued studies in both science and philosophy. For a time she has lived with the Benedictine community in Pecos. At present she may be addressed c]o Knight: St. Lawrence Campus;. 790 N~r6e-Tremblay St.; Ste-Foy; Prov. of Quebec GI V 4K2; Canada. What is most wonderful about our life is that we can know its Author. We, caught in flesh and time and change, can know the unchanging Creator of our-selves and the universe, the great invisible One. We are meant to know God. He wishes us to know, he delights to have us know him. "Eternal life is this: to know you, the only true God, and him whom you have sent, Jesus Christ~ (Jn 17:3). There are two knowings. The first is theoretical, and our age is steeped in it. It is knowledge of the world--of science, history, theology, politics. To acquire such knowledge takes years of study, so we are dependent on experts. Many seek it, but this knowledge does not satisfy the heart. The second knowing concerns us most. It is practical knowledge--knowledge of God. This second knowledge is hidden from the experts, but it is open to ordinary people. How is this knowledge acquired? As de Caussade writes: "It is what happens moment by moment which enlightens us [about God] and gives us that practical knowledge which Jesus Christ himself chose to acquire before begin-ning his publi9 life."~ God can be known by us when, in our ordinary lives, we attend to what transpires in us from moment to moment, from day to day, and over the course of years. God is not afar off, somewhere over the mountain tops, but he is fight here, amongst us. That we may know him, God gives us the day. "The day" is the place where our small lives run together with the great life of God. So let us go forth into the ~Jean-Pierre de Caussade. Abandonment to Divine Providence. Image Books, Doubleday, New York (1973), p. 49. 831 1~2 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 day, and listen. God dwells in our depths and comes to us from inner life. Images, moods, memories welling up into consciousness are sent by him. We live among rivers of poetry and prophecy. Attending to what passes in our interior world is a way to learn much about him who dwells there. God comes to us from outer events as well. Always something feels real, and this is where God is to be found. Friends, gray winter days, music as we pass an open window, meditative afternoons--all can give us an experience of him. Inner and outer events blend in prayer. Ask for love in the morning, you will be deep in the confirmation of others in the afternoon. Confide to him fears and anxieties, and in an hour or so, when you are busy about some household task, they will have vanished. Tell him you need images for your life, and as you sit down to have a cup of coffee, an image from the depths will appear. For that is how close he is to us. Augustine: "Thou art closer to me than my own soul." When we are merged with our situation, the inner life is addressed by what happens around us. People complain that God does not speak, but God is always speaking. He speaks to us through others. Words that are his reveal their author-ship by their appropriateness to our inner condition which he alone could have known. So pray that he will speak his words to you this day, and go forth to listen. Words that are his can come to us from any direction--voices overheard at a street corner, from a child in passing, from a friend in conversation, from a book. The whole world is a medium through which we hear him. Augustine, praying in a garden, heard children singing: "Take and read! 'Take and read!" He interpreted their song as a message to read Scripture. He opened the Bible at random, and what he read there changed his life. For science and for secular culture, the world is inert. In God, the world is alive and magical. It speaks to us with ultimate speech. Each day is thee supreme adventure of finding out what God has to say to us. So let us go forth into the day, to live this adventure. God not only speaks his word to us during the day, he provides us with a thousand places where we may settle into his presence. At the edges of our life-structures are little pockets, little po~stinia of silence and solitude where we can touch him. A moment while doing the ironing, or going through a door, or getting on a bus, and suddenly an insight into our life-situation comes to mind. Then we sense his touch in the peace that is a sign of his presence. Love, life, light, power, peace, beauty, joy--these are the experiences of the day in which God comes to us. We can learn much about God's ways by noticing these. God never works on one plane alone; rather the psychic and the physical merge. Dreams are a privileged way in which the indwelling divinity may instruct us about inward being or show us the spiritual terrain of our lives. If you do not understand a dream in the morning, its i~nterpretation may come somewhere during the day. If a dream reveals the will of God, confirmation will com~ on the Two Knowings ] ~ conscious level. One may ask for two or three confirmations. He willingly indicates his desires for us. The day is the place where he reveals his will. A closed door here, an open door there, peace, these are his signs. Ease of maneuvering, bursts of energy, inspiration, an inward sense of the story being right--all reveal his will. Each event in our lives is sent by God. Therefore, if we would be wholly within his will, we have only to attend to the duties of the present,~moment, and we will be pleasing him. Somewhere in the day, the Spirit will send us a glimpse of who we truly are, for our identity is a great mystery. Then we must nourish that self and seek to bring it alive. That true self sleeps just below the surface of our waking consciousness and is the imago Dei, the beautiful image of God he wishes to realize and reveal in us. There is a self-knowledge which is knowledge of God. Every day will bring its darkness too. But darkness is part of his work of healing and bringing to wholeness. It can be acknowledged, prayed for in the evening. The Spirit never sends us more than we can handle. All we meet are messengers of God. We should respect especially those who cause us pain, for pain is the kiss of Christ. It is a sign that the little child who dwells within has been touched and needs hbaling. That child too can be praye~d for in the evening, in powerful images of the risen Lord holding it and calling it his own. The day is a short plot in the story of our lives where God brings us to identity, to individuation and integration. So days deepen into years, into the long patterns of our lives. God will bring us around to similar situations again and again until we turn to him forhealing. Relationships with men and women recapitulate old relationships width father and mother, and we need to pray for these relationships. The long story is.hisgift to us, the interface where our life runs together with his. This interface places in our lives a vertical order which can be grasped in prayer. Did we know joy, inspiration,,the love of spring rains and of ideas? Through these he draws us into his life-design for us. By what path have we come? What is our place in the mountainous territory of Being? How does God see us? Who is the beautiful imdgo Dei that he wishes to unbury in us? As we see the long patterns of our lives and answer these questions, we learn the way God has"worked with us in the past and will likely w0rk with us in the future. He is a God ~f order and not of capri(e.' God knows all our needs. Our lives, in their smallest details, are put together by him. When we see what our lives a're, see where we are, then we will know God. ! have spoken of God's ways with us. Perhaps it is possible to know something of his vast inner life too. Perhaps insights always welling up in us to dur situations are really his thoughts in us, bringing us to see as he sees. ¯ There are two knowings. The bne we acquire in schools. It i~ the province of experts. The other is acquired in life and is open to everyone. It is knowledge of God. "Father. to you 1 offer praise; for~ what you have hidden from the learned and the clever you have revealed to the merest children" (Mt 11:~5). ReligioUs in Politics David F. O'Connor, S.T. Father O'Connor.is Chairman of the Department of Church Law at The Washington Theological Union. He resides at Holy Trinity Mission Sqminary: 9001 New Hampshire Ave.: Silver Spring. MD 20903. ~n recent years it has not been uncommon for the media to inform the public that a priest or religious has announced that he or she will seek public office as a representative, senator, mayor, or some other such political position. It is .under, standable that questions be raised: Why are they doing this? Is it permissible? Who gives the permission? What does it imply? And so forth. ,~ The author of 2 Timothy (2:4) intimated that one must give one's full and undivided attention to the ministry when he wrote: "Put up with your share of difficulties, like a good soldier of Jesus Christ. In the army, no soldier gets himself mixed up in civilian affairs because he must be at the disposal of his commanding officer." Moreover, the Church has frequentlyexpressed its concern that its clergy and its religious not engage themselves significantly in parallel activities, especially if these activities were considered "foreign" to their ministry. ObvioUsly particular culture, local custom and similar factors have helped in part to determine what activities are considered unsuitable for priests and religious. Too, such unsuitability has also been expres~sed in the exhortations and instru$- tions of popes, bishops an.d councils, as well as in the regulations and laws of the Church. In.f~act, there is a great deal ,of continuity evident in this matter.from the earliest Church councils down to the most modern Church documents. This article intends to give, first of all, a brief historical perspective to the issue of priests and ,r.eligious in politics of public office. After a consideration of the present Code of Canon Law and how it has been interpreted and applied, there is,a, survey of some recent Roman documents and statements of Pope John Paul II which expressly concern themselves with this issue. Next, the article places the matter in the context of the Church's social teaching (which has had a very Religious in Pofitics / 835 significant impact on religious~and priests) and the influence~ of politicafized theol-. ogies on the issue. Then, it treats the Church's teaching on the unique place.of the laity in the Church's mission, and their reaction to the question of clergy and religious assuming roles traditionally reserved to the°laity as a form of the ~social aposto~lat,e of the Church. Finally, the latest draft of the new Code of Canon Law ~ is c6nsider,qd, together with a practical suggestion of my own about how it migh~ be implemented. ~ Historical Background ~ o Jn the early Christian period, the followers of Jesus ayoided publi~c office because such duties often were associated with pagan worship. As a matter of fact, the generally low social stan~ding of Christians in Roman society helped keep them from such positions. However, with the Edict of Milan (313) and the official recognition of Christianity, circumst~nc~is changed quickly and drastically. Chris-tian emperors forbade clerics and monks from accepting spec!fic civil offices, ~nd exempted them from certain public duties. The Theodosian Code prohibited them from being receivers or collectors of taxes, recorders of public or private property, and atto~rn,eys who conduct litigation) The reasons behind such legislation,had to do with the protection of religious~ institutions from injury and with guaranteeing that holy services would not be obstructed. Likewise, early Church councils for-bade clergy from engaging in secular administration.~_u,nder pain of deposition or d~gradation.2 During~the early middle ages, nevertheless, ,many clerics were una~bJe t? ~avoid public office, especially the administration of justice. Bishops were vassals of the king and, because of the high esteem in which the clergy was held and because of the education which they possessed, they were coerced into certain positions. At this time the Church was content simply to avoid evident abuses in such activities. Warrior kings wereoverwhelmed with the task of government and lacked adminis-trative~ personnel. ~The Church,~on the other hand, possessed the personnel who were ~ccustomed to performing ecclesiastical administrative~tasks. Hence clerics became adept 'at substituting for the often.~decadent civil ad.ministrators. The Church's own internal discipline helped keep,it from the universal anarchy,that engulfed society. So, when Charlemagne, for exa .mple,-wanted to reconstitute an administration i.n~his state, he turned to the clergy for help.3 In later centuries, these condiiions.changed and prohibitions concerning such activity again became increasingly frequent in Church life: Pope Alexander~Vll in 1658 forbade the clergy to engage in political matters~ This prohibition was ~The Theodosian Code. translated by Clyde Pharr (Princeton, New Jersey: The Princeton University Press, 1952), XVI, p. 326. -'See C.J. Hefele. History of Christian Councils. translated by Willian~ R. Clarke (2nd ed., 5 vols., Edinburgh, 1883-189,6), I, 460, 489. 490. ~See H. DanieI-Rops, The Church in the Dark Ages, translated by Audrey Butler (New York: E.P. Dutton & Co., Inc., 1959), pp. 262-263., ,~ ~136 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 .rep'eat~l by almost al! subsequent pontiffs. But in 1893 Pope Leo XII1 adopted a somewhat more liberal approach, permitting involvement in political activities in order~t6 'defend the, rights of the Church. At the same time, though, he urged clerics not to neglect their spiritual lives in theii" study of civil and political matters, and to follow the guidance of their own bishops.4 lntereStihgly, in 1884, at the Third Coun'cil'of Baltimore, the bishops of the United States'hb.d ~lready stated their own exception, in N.83. They forbade priests to interfere in political affairs unless it was required to,do.so in defense of morality and sound principles. Finally, in 1906 Pope Plus X gfi~,e permission for clerics in France'to become candidates for'political office with the permission of their own bishopg and of the bishops of the place ffhere they wished to do so.5 This became part of the public law of the Church in i913, and was substantially repeated in the Code of Canon Law'at its promulgation in 1917'. The Code ,of Canon Law (1917) The~present code prohibits the clergy and members of religious institutes and societies of the common life from seeking or accepting public office without an apostolic indult. Canon 139, :2, obliges the clergy. Canon 597 states that religious are bound by this regulation. Cahon 679, I, asserts that members of societies of the common life are subject to the prohibition. Some of the offices which are pro-hibited to these public ministers are, for example, those oflmayors, commissioner.s, judges, sheriffs, attorney-generals, prosecuting attorneys, governors, tax commis-sioners, state superintendents of schools, heads of municipal and state depart-ments, and similar offices. Canon 139, 4, prohibits the clergy (and religious and members of societies) from running for or accepting public legislative offices, such as senator, deputy or represefltative to parliamentary gatherings~ without the permission of the prO)per Ordinary and the Ordinary of the place where the office will be°exercised. This canon contains the only legislation in the Code that~ directly concerns politicai activity, on the part of the Church's public ministers. It seems that when the 1917 Code wa;g!being drafted, the.re was an expression in one of the drafts ttiat would have includ~d~any.involgement in politicis contentionibus (in political con-test~ or deba,tes). However, th.is was considered to be far too broad and was removed in the final draft. It was never intended to ~xclude religious and clergy from political discussions which might be ne~e~;sary to protect and foster the welfare~of, the people and of the. Church.6 °, ~ Religiou~ also ne~d the permission of their own major sti[gerior, even if he_or she is not the proper Ordi~nary (as are the major superiors in exempt or pontifical clerical institutes). Moreover, the Ordinary of the place where the office is to be exercised must a!s0, give his permission. The singular is used in the canon, so it is '~See Codicis luris Canonici Fontes, 9 vols. (Romae, 1923-29), n. 62~). SSee Acta Apostolica~ Sedis (Romae, Vo XXXIX~ 1906); p. 192. ~ 6Vermeersch-Creusen, Epitome luris Canon[ci (Romae: H. Dessain, 1925-27), vol. I, n. 233, c. Religious in Politics [ 837 not necessary to have the permission of more than one local Ordinary if the office is exercised over the people of many dioceses. Subsequen~t Practice of the Holy See (1918-1962) A review of Church documents from the promulgation of the Code until Vatican il attests the negative attitude of the Holy See t0~ involvement of the clergy in politics.7 For example, Pope Benedict XV in a letter to Cardinal Csernoch, March 12, 1919, deplored the inordinate political activities of some of the Hungar-ian clergy,~ and in a letter to the Polish bishops, July 16, 1921, he stated that the apostolate of the press should be used to combat error, and that the clergy should avoid undue politic~al activity.9 When the Pontifical C0mmmission for the Official Interpretation of the Code was asked' in 1922 by some~ bishops how they should respond ~to re.cluests by priests wishing to seek legislative positions, the Commission responded that the bishops should be severe and not lenient when .it came to granting such permissions?° Pope Plus XI wrote the bishops of Mexico in 1926, sharing in their protestations about the.persecution of the Church in t.hat country, but he warned them to abstain from political partisanship.'j Also, in a series of responses over the years, the Sacred Congregation" of the Council consistently informed ordinaries of their right and duty to forbid political activity to ecclesias-tics and that, after warnings and failure to amend, the priests could be suitably punished~ In one case, in 1958, the Congregation stated that active participation in politics by ecclesiastics was inappropriate because their work should be entirely directed toward the spiritual good of sou_Is and that the Church has permitted such involvement only in special circumstances and under very definite conditidns by way of exception, though it did not specify what these were.~2 A Survey 0f Some Recent Documents of the Holy Se,e Just,~as canons of the code concerning prohibited activities are expressly appli-cable to both the clergy and religious, so are some recent documents of,the Holy See equally applicable to both the clergy and~religio,us. This is due to the closelink which religious life has with the hierarchical apostolate and the special relationship ~ Which 'binds religious life to the pastoral responsibilities of the Church.3 " ~We will 'briefly consider four of these documents which contain instructions regarding the activities of priests or religiOus,and which give some of tl~e reasons for prohibiting involvement in politics or secular activities. I. Paul VI on "The Ministerial Priesthood" ( 1971 ) The second part of this document contains guidelines for the life and ministry 7See The Canon Law Digest, 8 vols., 1934-1978 (vols, 1 and 2 edited by T. Lincoln Bouscaren, S.J.;" vols. 4-6 edited by Bouscaren and James I. O'Connor, S.J.; vols. 7 and 8 and Supplements edited by O'Connor), hereafter Digest. ~Digest, vol. I. p. 126. ~lbid. ~Olbid. vol. I. p. 127. ~lbid., vol. I. pp. 127-128. ~Digest, vol. 5. pp. 199-200. ~131t [ Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 " of priests.~4 it explicitly treats the inappropriateness of the engagement by priests in certain secular activities and in politics. It states that the priestly ministry, even when compared with other activities, must be considered "as not only a fully 4alid human activity, but even indeed as more excellent than others," although this cannot be appreciated a,nd ~understood except in'the light of the gift of faith.~5 "And so, in the ordinary course of events, full time should-be given to priestly ministry. By no means is participation iff secular activities in which men engage to be considered the principle o.bjective, nor can it suffice to exp}ess the particular responsibility of priests.'!6 The document acknowledges the right of priests to function as ordinary citizens, but ~'~since political options are, of their nature, contingent and absolutely hever adequately and perenially interpret the Gospel, the priest who is a witness to things to come should keep himself removed to a certain degree frorfi eve,)ry kind of p61itical office or involvement.~7 Especially excluded are roles of leadership in--or an active militancy for~a political party, unless in some concrete and extraordinary circumstance this is required for the good of the. community, and the bishop has given his consent. The bishop is advised to consult the priests' i:ouncil and, if necessary, the episcopal conference.~8 2. '!Religious and Human Promotion" (1978) The Sacred Coffgr?gat~ion of Religious and Se~uiar Institutes conducted a study on the S~pecific roli~°of religious in the mission of the Church for the integral promotion of the human person.19 It gave special consideration to the socio-politi-cal involvement of religious. The ~study was completed in 1978 but only published in 198Oin conjunction with a companion document, "The Contemplative Dimen-sion of Religious Life,''z0 It acknowledges the link between the Church's mission, its widespread commitment to the adx~ancement of people and the betterment of :society, and the importani role religious play in this ministry. It notes sympatheti-cally the particular problems and difficulties which have faced religious when they have tried to intervene more decisively in the areas of injustice and oppression,,, their need to express solid.arity with the poor and underprivileged compelling them at times "to become actively involved, sometimes in the working world and in p01ilics."~1 However the document reminds them that "they are:bearers of human" and Christian values which will oblige them to repudiate certain methods of trade union aciion or of political maneuverings which do not respond to the exact demands of justice, which alone is the reason for their involvement?"~2 The, docu-ment expresses concern that certain types of involvement carry with them "the risk of a loss of identity proper to religious life and to the Church's mission . ,'z3 '~JSee Digest, Supplement through 1980. canon 592. (1981). p. 13. ~See Digest, vol. 7 (1974). pp. 352-365. ~lbid., p, 355. Wbid ~71bid. p. 356. ~See Di~est, Supplement through 1980. canon 592 (1981). pp. 1-32. ~°lbid. canon 593 (1981). pp. 1-21. "-qbid., canon 592. p. 6. ' "-'-Ibid., p. 16. ~lbid., pp. 356.357. "-31bid. Religious in Politics There~fore, religious are warned not to let themselves become directly involved in politics, and should "not be deluded into thinking that they will have greater influence on the development of persons~and peoples by substituting a political involvement, in the strict sense, for their own tasks."~4 They "should stand apart from certain political options, being seen not as men and women who take sides, but as agents of peace and fraternal solidarity."~5 Unlike the laity and lay members of secular institutes, religious have committed themselves to obedience t9 the common purpose of the religious c.ommunity and to their own religious superiors. Therefo, re, states the document, the presence of religious shot~ld "alw.ays be as consecrated persons who,seek the full conversion of people and society to the ways ¯ of the Gospel through witness and service."~6 3. "The Prophetic Role of Religious in the Promotion of Human Progress" This document appears in the English edition of lnformationes, the official publication of the SCRS1.27 It is obviously linked to the previous document of the SCRS1, "Religious and Human Promotion." It is concerned that religious not underrate their prophetic role and contribution in the Church. They should safe-guard the primacy of the charism of their own institutes in their activities and must not give way "to the trappings of some political ideology, nor take on activities or ways of ~cting proper to other vo6atiods, for example, of lay people or of secular institutes."~8 The document exhorts religio~s to be faithful to their own vocation and way of life which w.ill not permit them to be "of a party." It states that a true ' Christian prophet cannot canonize any political system and will be aware Of the ~njust~ce inherent in every;system because of human weakness. It explicitly dis-courages any direct ihvolvement with political movements and expects that reli-gious will be prophetic by standing apart and by being critically aware of the limitations of all such movements.29 4. "InStruCtion o.f the Sacred Congregation of the Council on Associations of th~ Clergy (March 8, 1982) ~ Although directed at priests' organizations in'Hhng~iry, Yugoslavia and Czech-oslovakia, this documefit is 0f'interest because it ekpresses the Holy See's consist-ent understanding of the priesthood as a life of service and minist,ry that is to be conducted in close communion with the bishop, and it condemns any organization that would impede that communion, harm the identity of priests, or restrict their service to people.3° There is no room for associations of priests or deacons which have a political purpose(~Priests must never put themselves at the service of any ideological or human factor because they are "heralds of the Gospel and shepherds of the Church, and must devote themselves to the spiritual growth of the body of "-~lbid. p. 17. ~-5lbid. "-~lbid., p. 29. -~TSee Consecrated 14"fe, vol. 4. n. 2 (1980), pp:, 416-429. ~lbid. p. 428. "-~lbid. ~0See CRUX ~fthe News. vol. 2, March 22, 1982, pp. 4-5. 1~40 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 Christ.''-~ Even if ihey are presented as supporting humanitarian ideals, peace and social progress, associations of priests which pursue aims related "to politics cause division and discord wi!hin the people" of God, both among the faithful, among the priests themseives, and between the pri(sts and their bishops. They "undoubtedly place in the shadow the priestly mission and infringe on ecclesial communion . ,,3.2 The Statements of Pope ,John Paul I! The pope believes, in harmony with the Vatican 11 teaching, that temporal and seCular matters are properly within the competence of the laity. In his address to religious men in $5o Paulo on July 3, 1980 he said: 1 would like to point out the origihality of the presence of religious in the world. Already on other occasions this point has been presented as follows: there are two f~rms of presence in the world, one physical, direct, material--the other, invisible and spirit~Jal.' but no less real. Lay men and women, due to the fact that they affirm their vocation of physical presence in the world, need that strong support that comes precisely from the spiritual presence of religious. They would feel the lack of it if. through the euphoria of"immersion in thc world." religious ended up by denying'the Church the contribution of what is specifically theirs. For theirs is not a call to alienation: on the contrary, it is an invit,~tion to think that in the Church. according to the concept of St. Paul. the clear difference (and not confusion) and the valid complementarity (and not isolation) of charisms and vocations, continues to be important. The presence of religious in temporal struggles will never bc fruitful in the long run (but will it even be useful immediately?), if it takes plac9 at the cost of the essential values--even tl~e most humble--of religiou~ life.~3 The pope has insisted on the different roles of the priest, the re!!gi.ous and the layman q~ woman in,the political arena. Religious and priests are to be aware of their own yocation to preach God's word. ~While this certainly includes a concern for justice, the priest and the religious are to be seen as agents of reconciliation, not division. Their primary role as servants of God and of his Church does not permit them nor.rnally to be directly involved in partisan politics where divisions are inevitable. The priest and the religious are called to inspire, motivate, educate and exhort. The task of renewing the temporal and secular order is the responsibility of the laity. The Christian vocation to public ministry and ser, vic~e in the name of the Church belongs to,.the priest and the religious. This form of Christian life is distinct from, but complemented by, other Christian vocations. Therefore, in his February 17, 1981 address to religious men in Manila, John Paul stated: At the same time I ask you to observe this guideline: that each apostolic endeavor should be in harmony with the teachings of the church, with the apostolic purpose of your individual institutes. May I also remind you ~f my words at Guadalupe: "You arc priests and religious: you are not social or political figures or officials of a temporal power., let us not be under th~ illusion that we are serving the Gospel if we "dilute" our charism through an exaggerated interest in the wide field of temporal problems.",lt is important for people to see you as .~lbid. p. 4. ~'-Ibid. 33See John Paul II Speaks to Religious 1978-1980, edited by Jean Beyer. S.J., (Chicago: I,ittle.Sisters of the Poor, 1982). p, 245. Religious in Politics / ~141 "servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God."3~ While the pope does not confuse politics with religion, he courageously has condemned the violation of human rights, the lack of religious freedom where it occurs, consumerism, self-indulgence, unconcern for the poor, bias, and moral chaos. While he argues for personal and religious values, he opposes moral laxity and totalitarianism. Likewise, while he tells politicians tha~ they ought to aid the poor and ban weapons, he clearly asks priests and religious to stay out of politics.35 Social Justice, Public Office and Politics Invariably, since Vatican 11 (1926-1965). Catholic religious and clergy who are in politics or public office have cited the Church's social teaching as the basis for their activities. For example, one woman religious, a state senator, stated: "Though I may not be able to use gospel language when ! denounce sinful and oppressive structures on the House floor or in.committee meetings . . . 1 am nonetheless making the Church's teaching present and striving for the reconcilia-tion it seeks to promote by reordering relationships and structures?'36 Social justice has been a concern of the Church, especially from the pontificate of Leo Xlll~to that of John Paul 11. Since Vatican !1, the Church has been seeking to define its life also in terms of its impact on human development,. Gaudium et spes helped the Church come to the conviction that there cfin be no explanation of what the Church is apart from its impact on the social, political and economic life of society: Indeed, at the Third Roman Synod of Bishops (1971), the pursuit of justice in the world was perceived as an integral element in the life of the Church. However when Paul VI addressed the Fourth Roman Synod of Bishops (1974) on the ,subject of evangelization, he warned that the message of salvation which the Church preaches cannot be reduced "to mere sociological or political activity., to a man-centered and temporal message . " but quickly added, "there is no separation or opposition [between evangelization and human development], but a complementary relationship . -37 While the bishops accepted this integral rela-tionship between evangelization and~human development, their concern was on the emphasis-being given the latter in developing countries and the tendency to eliminate the distinction ,between evangelization, and development. Again, in 1975 when the Pontifical Commission on Justice and ~Peace issued its document on "The Church and Human Rights," it reasserted that the Church must have a liberating impact on society, but stated that it does not enjoy any special compe-tence in the political or economic areas, nor was its mission of salvation to be reduced to those areas of life and temporality. 34See Address of John Paul. 11. February 17. 1981, Osservatore Romano English Edition. p. 6. 35James V. Schall, S.J., "The Changing Catholic Scene," in Christianity and Politics. edited by Carol Friendly Griffith (Washington. D.C.: Ethics and Public Policy Center, 1981). p. 38. ¯ a~Jim Castelli. "Priests, Nuns, Ministers in Politics," Commonweal. 24 June. 1977, p. 400. 377he Pope Speaks. 19 (1975), pp. 189-190. 842 / Review for Religious, Nov.-Dec., 1982 Unfortunately, when clergy Or religious have spoken out on behalf of justice and basic human rights, as they are obliged to do at times, they have been accused of "meddling in politics." Furthermore, in systems of political oppression the corporal works of mercy are themselves perceived as political acts pure and simple when political oppression is the cause of such poverty. As a consequence, religious and priests have b~en persecuted, even murdered for their performance. Therefore, "politics" can mean different things to different people. When bishops have taken a public stand against abortion,,this is considered to be a political act more than a moral stand by a segment of the populace. What is to be thought, then, when the bishops lobby in Congress in pursuit of Church interests and the broader goals of peace, justice and equality? The history of the Church manifests the extraordinary dangers that beset it if it becomes

Issue 50.4 of the Review for Religious, July/August 1991. ; Review fOl~ Religious Volume 50 Number 4 July/August 1991 P()STMAS'I'I'.'ll: Send mhh'c.~.~ chang~'s Io Rl.:Vll.:W 1.~ nt ll,.:i.i~ ;i, ~i,s; P.(). Box 6071); l)llhli h, M N 55806. .~lll~scriplioll raics: .~illglc c.py $3.51) plus lll~lililig 1991 RI.:VIEW I)avid L. Fleming, ~.l. Philip C. Fischen S.I. Michad G. I-hzrter, ~.l. Elizabeth Mcl)omm~h, 0.1: Jean Read Mary Ann Foppe Edilor Asxocial~" Cammical Co.nsc/Edilor Assistant Editors David J. Hassel, S.J. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Wendy Wright, Ph.D. Advisory Board Mary Margaret Johanning, S.S.N.D. Sean Sammon, F.M.S. Suzanne Zuercher, O.S.B. July/August 1991 Volume 50 Number 4 Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor should be sent to R~vl~w rot R~lous; 3601 Lindell Boulevard; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Elizabeth McDonougb, O.P.; 5001 Eastern Avenue; P.O. 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This order is for [] a new subscription [] a renewal [] a restart of a lapsed subscription MAIL TO: REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS ¯ 3601 LINDELL BOULEVARD ° ST.LOu1S, MO 63108 1-91" PRISMS. The word ordinary seems to imply the bland, the unexciting, the run-of-the- mill, the everyday. In fact, for many of us even the liturgical year of the Church suffers from being divided into two parts: the Seasons and Ordinary Time. Although liturgy properly speaks of our celebrations, we tend to find it hard to celebrate what is called ordinary. Perhaps the very distinction which the Church highlights in so dividing the liturgical year calls us to a deeper reflection upon our understanding of the ordinary. God creates the ordinary., and calls it good. It is true: the ordinary is the very substance of our world. While being itself God's cre-ation, the ordinary is also the substance with which God works. We, by being ordinary, can be touched and molded and transfigured by God. Often we try to escape from being ordinary, and in the process we shut ourselves off from being available to God's action in our lives. In the bibli-cal accounts of creation, we find the lure of an escape from the ordinary the root crisis of properly using our God-given freedom. The story of Lucifer and the fallen angels is a story of beings discontent with being ordinary. As they try to move beyond the ordinary by shutting out God, this becomes their hell. So, too, the story of Adam and Eve is a story of two people, in the freshness of human life, already desirous of escaping the ordinary--to be like gods. Sacramentally we are reminded that God continues to take the ordi-nary- water, bread and wine, oil--to make extraordinary contact with us. Even when our prayer or the spirituality we live is--try as we may---ordi-nary, we thus have the very quality which allows it to become the vehicle of God's action. The difficulty for us in accepting the ordinary is not just from an inherent human tendency to want to be noticed and praised, but also from the graced impetus to strive, to struggle, to desire to grow beyond where we are. How are we to distinguish these spirits within us, distinguish move-ments that would lead us to close ourselves off to God by our self-focus from movements whereby God is drawing us ever closer in our surrender? Our writers in this issue provide us with various approaches to a lived answer. John Wickham goes right to the heart of our reflections in the lead article by focusing on our choice of being "just ordinary." McMurray and Conroy and Kroeger turn our gaze to the whole complexus of activities 481 482 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 which make up our spirituality--how do we work at making a spirituality our "ordinary" life-source? A different question is posed by Samy and Fichtner when they ask whether the ordinary practices which we find in a spirituality which is not Christian can be an aid in our openness to God. Vest and Schwarz and Gottemoeller draw our attention to various aspects of the ordinary Christian lay life as influenced by a spirituality which is described as monastic, by a new kind of membership relation to a traditional religious congregation, or by a new responsibility within the institutions formerly identified with a particular religious order. In the midst of some of the liturgical renewal stimulated by Vatican II, the practice of a daily Eucharistic celebration has sometimes been a point of dispute, especially among those priests and religious whose congregational rule or custom clearly called for such observance. The confusion often turned on what was celebratory and what was ordinary or daily. John Huels weaves his way through various schools of thought in order to provide a group with a whole cloth of ordinary spiritual practice. Although contemplative life in its dedicated form is recognized as truly a special calling in the Church, Clifford Stevens would have us all draw some nourishment today from its age-old sources. And finally, four different writers--Navone, Monteleone, Seethaler, and Billy--lead us further along in the most common activity of human interaction with God, our attempt at praying. As portrayed in the gospels, Jesus had to spend a lot of his efforts both in his ordinary apostolic life and then again in his resurrected life to prove his ordinariness. He gets tired, he eats and drinks, he needs friends, and he takes time to pray--all ordinary activities for us humans. And yet it was in these very ordinary dealings that God is fully present to us in Jesus Christ. Perhaps the part of the Church year we call "ordinary time" is a necessary reminder to us of how God wants to work with us. David L. Fleming, S.J. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" John Wickham, S.J Father John Wickham, S.J., is a member of the Upper Canada Province of the Society of Jesus. He is the author of The Common Faith and The Communal Exercises (Ignatian Centre in Montreal): His address is Ignatian Centre; 4567 West Broadway; Montreal, Quebec; Canada H4B 2A7. There is something new, I believe, about the feeling often experienced today of being "just an ordinary person." Many recurrently feel that way despite their natural gifts, highly developed skills, or honored positions. Nor do they need to deny those advantages. In contrast to what others may tend to think, or what the world expects of them, their subjective experience of themselves--what it feels like from within their own skins--is that of a worthwhile even if unfinished, rather unique and yet uncertainly striving, interesting enough but still "just ordinary" life. It is midway between what is heroic and what is base. It is not very glamorous, but neither is it paltry. Its special taste, which is quite different from these alternatives, makes it a rather new kind of experience. If at times we do recognize that experience in ourselves, then we may face a range of questions. Should I accept the feeling as a true and good one? Or would I be better off without it? Should I choose it so often and persis-tently that it becomes habitual for me? Or would that turn into an inauthentic pose? Should I try to find some part of my real identity there? And what exactly would that imply? For example, would it mean I am choosing to be mediocre? The fact that a feeling arises, St. Ignatius tells us, does not prove it to be from God. The latter point needs to be discerned. And kinds of feeling that become widespread in a given society need to be discerned just as much as do feelings that arise only in a particular individual. In fact, our faith com-munities must often set themselves against cultural trends in the world around them. 483 484 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 In order to get at underlying issues, I wish to consider this topic in two stages. The first will be restricted to the phenomenon itself of a "just ordi-nary" feeling as a secular event in our world. Only then will I turn to the sec-ond stage, namely, to take up the kinds of faith response which we might wish to give it today. The first part, then, attempts an analysis of the "feel-ing." The second considers when, or in what circumstances, we might "choose" in faith to make it our own. Our New Cultural Situation To rephrase my opening statement, I believe that a "just ordinary" feel-ing about oneself is somewhat new as a more widespread and recurrent experience in Western culture. In recent years nearly everyone I have spoken to about this has nodded at once and said, "Yes, that's exactly how I often feel." While I possess no statistical data on its prevalence, my impression is that quite a few people have come to recognize its presence in themselves. Let me try to locate this experience more precisely. I am referring to something secular in origin and not necessarily Christian or religious in itself. Like God's rain and sunshine, it may affect everyone, just :and unjust, believer and unbeliever alike. Perhaps it was triggered off by the countercultural movement of the nineteen-sixties, since during the seventies commentators often pointed out the exaggerated attention then being given to inner feel-ings- to the personal self of each one apart from their external involvements. At that time many were being thrown back upon their subjective states of awareness to a degree that had rarely happened before. The seventies were called the "Me Decade," one that belonged to the "Me Generation" whose subjective responses (often referred to then as "getting in touch with your feelings") were given unprecedented emphasis and publicity. What had previously been mostly private now became blatantly public. But perhaps during the eighties not only the novelty but some of the disturbing quality, too, of that rather messy explosion of "subjectivity" in our midst has worn off and subsided to a degree--enough to allow "just ordinary" feelings to rise to the surface and gain attention today. What had occurred, then, was an intensification of self-awareness, a heightening of subjective consciousness among much larger segments of our population than before, and even a thematization of this event in our culture. "Souls" had been transformed into "subjects." Individuals became persons. This had happened much earlier, of course, for some exceptional people and even for smallish groups here and there, but it had never before become such a widespread phenomenon. And it involves matters of considerable importance, not easily dis- Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 41~5 missed. Bernard Lonergan has written of "the shift to interiority" in the twentieth century as the emergence of a new "realm" of human reality, i At the opposite end of the scale, the usual wild and foolish misuse of a new gift by the more excitable members of society should not blind us to its underly-ing significance. That is the larger context. More in particular I wish to stress, first of all, the quieter reverberations which those noisy events have left with many per-sons today. The gift itself of interiority is multifaceted, of course, but a first approach would notice that in part it may belong with the newly "expressive self' which has emerged alongside, and often independently of, the older "utilitarian self.''2 While the latter continues to exert a dominant influence in our midst, it must now share the public table with a more mystical parmer. From a slightly different viewpoint the "just ordinary" feeling should be seen mainly as a response to the puritan "strong self' of modern culture. After the nineteenth century in the West we gained the capacity-- appropri-ate to a technocratic society---of developing our ego-strengths. That is, a cer-tain knack, at least for special purposes, of withholding or excluding deeper levels of feeling can free an individual to concentrate on impersonal obser-vations, accurate calculations, and carefully directed efforts of the will. Further development of this inner self-control is required for any kind of efficiency and productivity in the working world. It is clear that the requisite skills are not given by nature but must be culturally developed. Not only our workplaces but our schools and colleges, too, call insistently for the formation of habits (especially of technical reason and will) which enable entry into the competitive society with all the bureau-cratic ladders and graduated salary scales of a successful career---or not-so-successful, as the case may (more often) be. In contrast to this still urgent public arena of "strong selves," individual members also return to private worlds of rest, relaxation, and entertainment, to times of weakness when they may face their own ignorance about the questions posed to them in life and recogn!ze their lack of energy for the continual efforts required. Human beings, it should be stressed, when separated from their social roles and active commitments and thrown back upon their private resources, usually do not find a great deal of their own to sustain them. Modern urban ways have cut people off from the deeply penetrating and densely inter-twined supports of rural societies. As a result, the rootless city dweller becomes conscious of boredom, of empty times to be filled up, of personal neediness and spiritual hungers not easily satisfied. An individual person, after all, is usually endangered by too much isolation from others, and mod- 4~16 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 em technologies often weaken or destroy traditional communities (families, neighborhoods, parishes). Besides, whenever institutions let us down or defeat our aims, or when hurtful clashes disturb our feelings for others, we are left alone to deal with a diminishing present and a more uncertain future. That is when a loving spouse and intimate friends (if available)become essential to our very sur-vival; without them, depressed feelings all too easily turn to thoughts of nonexistence. It was the countercultural movement which reacted against the giant bureaucratic institutions of our world and forced into the broader stream of public life the previously underground resource of subjective feelings. It transformed leisure moments of the kind just mentioned into recurrent times of self-expression which are portrayed and celebrated in our electronic media. This revealed to large numbers of fairly well-off persons in Western societies that their interior selves need to be cultivated in ways that differ enormously from the older patterns of successful selfhood modeled for them in corporate institutions. The counterculture managed to give sustained pub-licity to a host of "alternative lifestyles"---that is, a diverse range of subjec-tive modes in self-identity and interpersonal relating. This vastly expanded "realm of interiority" provides a cultural context for, and is itself fostered by, many recent movements: affirmations of per-sonal rights, the reawakening of charismata, the turn to the East, the renewal of contemplative prayer traditions, and the broadly secular interest in spiritu-alities of all kinds. It is surpi'ising to notice how the word "spiritual" and its cognates have gained such widespread use not only in the arts but in sports, politics, business enterprises, salesmanship, the military--almost every-where today. In our faith tradition, on the other hand, the interior life had a much more restricted meaning. Medieval interiority was exclusively religious--the very opposite of anything secular or worldly. In order to develop one's union with God, according to the late-medieval Imitation of Christ, believers were expected to withdraw from external involvements--at least, from all the habits and attitudes belonging to them--and to cultivate an inner commu-nion with the Lord deep within their hearts. The Imitation, we should remember, is the most popular spiritual classic of all time.3 A crucial aspect of its teaching has to do with the personal self so poignantly revealed by means of a prolonged withdrawal of the kind rec-ommended. But when thrown back upon oneself in this way, what does one find? The oft-repeated answer to this question shows how bare the cup-boards of subjectivity can be: Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 487 This is the greatest and most useful lesson we can learn: to know our-selves for what we truly are, to admit freely our own weaknesses and failings.4 I am nothing, and I did not even know it. If left to myself, I am noth-ing; I am all weakness. But if you turn your face to me, [Lord,] I am at once made strong and am filled with new happiness.5 Oh, how humbly and lowly I ought to feel about myself, and even if I seem to have goodness, I ought to think nothing of it . I find myself to be nothing but nothing, absolutely nothing . I peer deep within myself and I find nothing but total nothingness.6 No doubt, older Christians today will recall teachings of this kind as familiar features of their early training. And some of its emphases tend to give us pause. What about the inherent goodness of each human self?. This was occasionally noticed in the Imitation, but should it not have received much more attention? On this question two historical points should perhaps be made. First, the Imitation itself arose from the Devotio Moderna's care for many ordinary members of society who desired to cultivate a devout life amid late-medieval disruptions of Christian Europe (the Black Death and subsequent plagues, persistent warfare, economic hardship, the Great Western Schism).7 Out of their prolonged experience of public calamities came this first popular expression of the personal subject in the West--at least, among the little seg-ments of the population influenced by the "new devotion." The point for us here is that a faith response to those troubled times made possible an interior life for many more persons than before (including lay members living in the world). An inner self could then be cultivated by means of the careful religious teachings extended to them by The Imitation of Christ and similar writings of the movement. Thus, interiority was initial-ly a sacred realm, not a secular one. In order to develop at all, it had to define itself against the secular world. This meant, of course, that the self had precisely "nothing" of its own to fall back upon--no widely accepted norms of individual worth had as yet been formulated. The themes of individualism which we take for granted today as "natural" were simply not available in the Middle Ages. The Devotio Moderna may, in fact, have contributed notably to the first social expression of our individual sense of self. It follows that to blame it for not supplying what it was in the very process of begetting seems misguided. That would be reading history backward--a frequent modern failing. Secondly, it seems that the difference between selfhood (a good sense of self) and selfishness (a bad sense) had not as yet been separately felt. In that 488 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 sacred milieu the differentiation of a secular goodness of creation apart from the fallen condition so frequently stressed in spiritual teachings remained for the future to bring about. In other words, the self-in-its-own-being could not possibly then have been "tasted" distinctly from the self-as-sinful or the self-as- saved-by-grace (or both together). True enough, humility was sometimes considered apart from habits of sinfulness--namely in Mary and in the saints--but even there what received emphasis was the divine grace of their redemption (in Mary's case extending to her prior preservation) from sin's more normal dominion. These excep-tions only proved the rule that humility--as we hear its accents in the Imitation--arises from the sharpened interior taste of one's sinful self that usually follows upon forgiveness. In view of this cultural moment of The Imitation of Christ in the early fifteenth century, its lack of any emphasis on natural goodness for the indi-vidual self is understandabl~. It is true that, by the later sixteenth century, Montaigne's Essays and Shakespeare's Hamlet and Richard II had begun to anticipate modem feelings of individual selfhood, but this was still an excep-tional happening within the sacred medieval precincts, it may be said. So many developments have taken place in the centuries since that time--the Cartesian ego, theKantian turn to the subject, the Romantic movement, nineteenth-century liberalism, as well as the already mentioned "shift to interiority" ~ind countercultural movement in our own century, that we cannot have recourse solely to a retrieval of medieval gifts. In short, the new interiority of our day differs a great deal from the "interior life" handed down to us in our spiritual tradition. The old interiority was (a) fully sacred in meaning, (b) defined in opposition to the "world," (c) low in self-esteem while high in reliance on God alone, and (d) rarely to be shared with others socially. By contrast, the new interiority is (a) mainly sec-ular in meaning, (b) defined against the mainline institutions of society (including those of the Church), (c) self-affirming and self-accepting, even if admitting one's need of friends and of the divine Other, and (d) eagerly shared with others in public lifestyles. Like many others, in my Jesuit formation I was often counseled to ignore, set aside, or "offer up" my individual feelings as distracting or, more likely, harmful to my fuller appropriation of the uniform spiritual teachings provided. These latter consisted in learning the general answers true for everyone alike and in keeping the rules set down for all without exception. That way of forming members, as we know, has been in great part aban-doned in recent decades. In any case, it had introduced painful distortions into our medieval heritage. Choosing to be 'Just Ordinary" / 489 The main "warp" in question was directly related, I believe, to the nine-teent~ h-century rise of the "strong self" already mentioned. Let me briefly review that development. As I have noted, humility had traditionally been ~'ocused on the sinful condition of those converted to the Lord. It did not dwell merely on mortal sins committed prior to their deeper conversion, but much more on the venial sins which they came to recognize in present self-awareness. This medieval tradition may be gathered in detail from Alphonsus Rodriguez's Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues.8 Against that backdrop the modem ideal of a "strong sell" to be fash-ioned in youth by anyone hoping to succeed in the secular world, or even to survive in it, presented a considerable contrast. Prior to 1965, our Catholic parishes and schools managed to combine this modem requirement (a strong selfhood formed in the conscious mind through repression of deeper feel-ings) With traditional teachings on humility (reliance on God alone because of personal sinfulness and the "nothingness" of self). This was made easier by means of the invisible wall erected around the distinctly Catholic world. By the later nineteenth century, of course, Christian faith had already become to a large extent privatized, separated from public life and domesticated in family and parish activities. For Catholics in North America, the immigrant Church had developed its own "garrison" mentality so effective!y that one could cultivate a traditionally humble self in the narrowly religious realm and at the same time a secularly aggressive self in the business, professional, political, or broadly social realm. That was the religious situation in which I was raised, and I did not then advert to its inconsistencies. Perhaps many others today can recall this com-bination of strivings. However opposite they were in character, we tried to attain them both and to some extent we succeeded--by the grace of God. In recent decades that whole effort has disappeared and as a result (among many other quandaries) a whole spectrum of possible selves has become available today. It is a somewhat unsettling set of choices. But amidst all our struggles to find or fashion personal identities (or perhaps to fortify older ways in the very teeth of these developments), the curious new event has made its presence felt--the "just ordinary" feeling. Contemporary Faith Responses At this point I wish to bring into our discussion a distinction rather dif-ferent from any mentioned so far. In a recent book, Hopkins, the Self and God, Walter Ong, S.J., has emphasized the "taste of self" which figured so prominently in Gerard Hopkins's poetry, letters, and notebooks.9 As a chap- 490 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ter on the Victorian context makes clear, the theme was not unusual even then. But Hopkins, because of his unique attention to it and extraordinary gifts of language and feeling, managed to anticipate many of our present concerns. The distinction employed by Fr. Ong in his discussion is between the self as "I" or "me" in the densely concrete, subjective stance underlying all one's experiences and, on the other hand, the self as objectified in various characteristics, habitual attitudes, and acquired abilities. Ong names the first of these "the subject-self' and the second "the self-concept"--a terminology already in use. More is meant than merely a difference between subjective and objec-tive qualities of the self. The so-called "objective" side points to an individu-al's attempts to gain a sense of developing identity--at first through the reactions :of other people, and then through one's own continued striving. Often a variety of contrasting possibilities are "tried on for size" and lived out for a time, but later modified or rejected. But underneath every such effort lurks a richer source of seifhood that unifies the ongoing and often interrupted sequence. Moreover, the subject-self also feels--at least indirectly--the inadequa-cy of whatever aspects of self-conception are presently entertained. The lat-ter are never quite right. There is always a certain sense of"more to come": Why do I doubt my capacity to keep this up any longer? Maybe I should change my mind about the whole business? Or am I trapped in a "fate" of being the way I am?l° And as soon as some new aspect of the self gains initial clarity, there is often a tendency to react in a different direction. Even if I should rejoice in a rather flattering or at least affirmative symbol of myself, my subconscious feelings may tend to exert a counterinfluence. Or if snubbed by others or blamed in any way, I might resent it at several levels at once (despite a ten-dency to self-doubt), but I will also search for memories of my better qualities. A great variety of varying patterns of such "identity searches" may be noted in spiritual direction. But what I wish to stress here is the unifying "I" in every pattern or in every sequence of changing patterns over years of per-sonal growth. "I" am the enduring (somehow even unchanging?) recipient, resource, and agent of all such reflexive feelings, perceptions, visions, and (as Eliot has taught us) endless revisions. For I am always the one who is unfinished. I exist amid processes that are ever moving me into uncertain futures. This mysterious "I" may be used, of course, in a way that includes the self-concept of my current identity. Most often the two blend together in my Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 49'1 experience of them. Wider, more inclusive self-affirmations are normal and even important. For the self-concept can never really be independent of the subject-self--the two functions are inherently connected and interactive. My various self-conceptions (especially at their least vague, most fully articulat-ed stages) need to be tested repeatedly in the subject-self. Do I feel at home in them? In fact, their authenticity becomes known only insofar as they truly actualize my subjectively felt potentials. On the other side, the subject-self cannot long endure without some kind of self-concept. Even when denied previous realizations in the social world, the subject-self may have recourse to fantasy roles in the theatre of imagina-tion. For I cannot avoid notions of selfhood altogether--my neediness finds relief only in the movement to some form of self-realization, however indi-rect, implied, or even self-sacrificial it may become for a time. But what is new today for many persons is that 'T' may recurrently refer quite exclusively to the subject-self alone. In such cases the needful relation to identities is not denied but somehow "bracketed out" or "put on hold." This distinction appears to be called for by what I have named the "just ordi- ¯nary" feeling. More precisely, the "just ordinary" feeling belongs especially to the subject-self. Now, this distinction may unlock several, of the puzzling questions which arise .from our cultural situation today. It might resolve the problem for all who try to decide whether or not--even precisely as a Christian-- they should choose to be "just ordinary." Not Mediocrity, but Limitation A first question to be faced concerns mediocrity. If one settles into a "just ordinary" feeling of oneself, would this not bring an end to growth, to any serious striving for improvement? Would it not ring the death knell of idealism (in a good sense)? Would it banish from the competitive society believers who chose to accept it--as though our economic system as such is inherently alien? Even more traditional spiritualities sought to refute the accusation that Christian faith necessarily inclined believers to accept the established pow-ers and to resign themselves to exploitation by cle4er elites (Marx's "opium of the people" view about the role of religion in society). But that false use of Christian faith is not in question here. If a devout life means acceptance of manipulation and coercion by others, then it has simply lost its roots in the prophetic teachings of Christ. Instead, what is relevant here is the insight that only the subject-self can feel "just ordinary." Such a feeling cannot rightly belong to the self-concept. 499 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 My position is that only insofar as one becomes aware of one's "purely" sub-jective selfhood in contrast to current or possible fulfillments of one's poten-tials (the self-concept always means that) does the "just ordinary" feeling arise in the first place. It would follow, then, that for persons who do not experience this newish feeling (and no one is required to do so!) a decision to be "just ordinary" might mean choosing to be mediocre. That is not the case, however, for those who do recognize the new feel-ing in themselves; what they experience, I would say, is a new sense of per-sonal limits. No doubt, our knowledge of limitations is pluriform. Each person would tend to stress different aspects of the overall human "contin-gency" (its more technical name) as this comes home to individual lives. Limits are reached in our work, our relationships, our different life-stages, our suffering of reverses, rejections, sickness, injuries, or close encounters with death and dying: Our knowledge and abilities have a great variety of limitations, but so do our energies and our capacity for making creative responses. There are traditional ways of coming to know and accept our littleness, but what I have in mind here gives a different resonance to these more familiar events. In Western cultures it may seem natural to invest one's whole identity in a career role, with its achievements, or with honors already received (here the "strong self" makes its presence felt). But against this tendency I find it possible, like Hopkins, to identify mainly with my subject-self--even though my developed talents, skills, and other acquisitions (whatever their true worth) may be kept in view. I do not deny the crucial importance of these factors in my life as a whole. But I know I could lose all use of them if I suffered a grave stroke or a debilitating heart attack, for example. And throughout that illness, whose effects could be long-lasting, I would contin-ue to experience myself as "me"--a limited person, unique in my special taste of self, the same as I was as a child and teenager, and surely to remain so until death. If I am unable to make this sort of self-identification, but insist on claiming my developed self-concept as the only true "me," the danger is that a debilitating illness may tend to destroy me altogether. And those who live into old age, even if they never suffer a health crisis of the dramatic sort mentioned, may eventually experience their subject-self as "just ordinary"-- stripped of any actual use of their various gifts. In traditional Christian teaching our need for reliance on God will nor-mally be heightened and dramatized by major experiences of suffering (',limit" situations). This will surely continue to exert a central influence on personal realizations of Christ's paschal mystery. The unusual note to be Choosing to be "Just Ordinary '" / 493 sounded here, however, concerns the dimension of selfhood which our cul-tural moment may be bringing alive. The 'T' whom Jesus calls and unites to himself, the "I" who undergoes spiritual deaths and who may then receive new life in the risen Lord--this 'T' may now choose to identify with "just ordinary" feelings rather than either "nothing" or "something good denied." It is a form of limited selfhood available today to a much larger number of persons than ever before. Humility in a New Key As cultural events bring forward different ways of experiencing not only the humanized world but also the human subject in and by whom the world is humanized, individuals growing aware of their own gifts are always exposed to new dangers from pride. In his "Two Standards," we remember, St. Ignatius highlights the time-honored medieval teaching that pride is the source and origin of every other vice, and that humility, as St. Bernard puts it, is "the foundation and safeguard of all virtues." It follows that the emer-gence of a "just ordinary" feeling raises another question: precisely what effect might this have on our traditional sense of what the virtue of humility requires? No doubt, the rise of modern democracies brought a stronger emphasis on equality into social relations in the West (in contrast to earlier ideals of "subordination," of submission to those in higher orders). Every member, rich or poor, is supposed to stand on the same ground, in a civil sense as well as "before God," as every other member. But this opened the way to compe-tition in the public "free marketplace," where the many levels of social clas-sification become even more clearly marked than in the premodern world. Personal evaluations and interpersonal judgments are so much more intense than previously that the "neurotic" society of our day has become familiar to US.11 In this context modern teachings on humility tended to stress the differ-ence between the office and the office holder. And this traditional distinction was often combined with a focus on teamwork or group contributions. In sports, the heroes who score the highest number of points, even the winning goals, humbly acknowledge the help of their teammates and the glory of the whole team, rather than their individual merits. In short, modern humility consists mainly in putting oneself down. Self-abasement, especially after some signs of achievement appear in the struggle for success over others, is felt to be essential. This means that humility and humiliation are closely approximated in modern competitive societies. But in the postmodern world (if that is where we are today) many are 494 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 beginning to sense their subjective distance from the very structures of suc-cess and achievement themselves. Perhaps this is why human vulnerability and powerlessness have received so much attention in recent years. If I am right in this--to some extent and for some members only, of course--then the "just ordinary" feeling would denote an ability to experience self-worth independently of competition for successful contributions in the established institutions of the world. When the feeling does mean that, I would argue in favor of seeking to realize it in one's life. This would not necessarily signify nonparticipation in the large struc-tures of society--whether in business, politics, sports, communications, or whatever. But it could qualify the style of our participation because our main sense of self would no longer consist in whatever we might be able to achieve. To gain this rather sophisticated balance, of course, might not always be easy. It would mean learning how to give one's whole energies to highly skilled performances without pinning one's sense of self to success in performing well. Whatever the-degree of success or failure realized over time, those who contribute would continue to experience themselves to be "just ordinary" members of a community which regularly affirms their worth on a basis other than that of competition, success, or failure. This would bring a newish tone, a new chord, I think, to the age-old music of humility. Sacred and Secular Community The "just ordinary" feeling may also raise a question because of its very secularity. Normally the Church lives in a certa{n state of tension with the secular society in which its witness to Christ's message is to be given. But the quality of that "creative tension" can vary a great deal. In our day the tension may disappear whenever a new secular discovery affecting human growth is announced in a book or magazine, or its virtues are proclaimed in the media. It may then be taken up by skilled practitioners and made available in local programs. In recent decades we have received many such gifts. An example might be the interpretation of dreams by means of Jung's psychological theories. This can become quite an interesting activity, valu-able in itself. But there is a danger that believers who are attracted to it may then transfer most of their religious energies to essentially secular programs of this kind (think, too, of the many self-help groups claiming attehtion today) and thereafter give little attention to more central Christian practices. In particular, our own question concerns the "just ordinary" feeling. Is it another "brand-new discovery" of the type just mentioned? Does it not sug-gest a secular facet of human life which may all too easily replace more Choosing to be 'Just Ordinary" / 495 authentic 'teachings? Are we simply "shaking holy water" on secular objects and calling them Christian? I would reply that, while its potential misuses are undeniable, its right use may also be safeguarded if the underlying issue is kept clearly in sight-- the issue of the human call to transcendence. I will conclude this essay by exploring that deeper concem. At one level we remember that any new discovery may be claimed by Christian faith because all that is human belongs to God the Creator. Thus, we may recognize and welcome every fresh gift of human expertise, inte-grate it within the larger faith (making it subordinate, not dominant), and in this manner sanctify all things in Christ. No doubt this should be so. But at a deeper level of analysis the question arises in a new form because secularity (secular realities taken in a good sense, as differing from secularism) is always related to the sacred as its opposite. In this way Judaism and Christianity themselves initiated a radical process of secularization. For us the world is no longer "full of gods" since we believe in the one Creator who is beyond all created things (transcen-dent). Our faith has secularized the cosmos. Later on in history the civilized world, too, took further giant steps on the same journey. In great part today our political, economic, social, and cultural institutions are experienced not as immediately God-given but as humanly devised. In this more radical sense, then, whenever ongoing secularization enables a new gift of human life to be realized, the sacred powers of tradi-tional faith need to be adapted to the new situation. What had formerly been handled indirectly by religious beliefs has now come directly (even if incom-pletely) under human management. In faith we may welcome such events as fulfillments of God's intentions in creating humans "in his own image and likeness" (that is, cocreative with him). But we also note an important clue: there should be no change in secularity without a corresponding change in sacrality. The frequent failure here is a simple transfer of energies from the sacred into the secular realm while reducing religious operations to empty words alone. More specifically, if the emergence of "just ordinary" feelings can bring new aspects of human existence within the range of human competency, then we may rejoice in this prospect on condition that a corresponding, positive change occurs in our sense of specifically sacred gifts. But if the change should be merely negative, a loss of religious energies, then something has gone wrong. For example, the work of Carl Rogers and others on self-actualization and self-realization has an obvious bearing on our topic, but even here the 496 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 "just ordinary" feeling takes the process a step further, I think. All of these factors, we should remember, are secularizations of human powers which previously had been contained or implied within sacred gifts. 12 In Gerard Hopkins's poetry the sacred envelope remained untorn: Each mortal thing does one thing and the same: Deals out that being indoors each one dwells; Selves--goes itself; myself it speaks and spells, Crying What I do is me: for that I came. I say more: the just man justices; Keeps grace: that keeps all his goings graces; Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is-- Christ--for Christ plays in ten thousand places, Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his . 13 Even more to the point are his famous closing lines in another poem: In a flash, at a trumpet clash, I am all at once what Christ is, since he was what I am, and This Jack, joke, poor potsherd, patch, matchwood, immortal diamond, Is immortal diamond. 14 The eternal worth to be realized at last in Christ is anticipated by a believer who knows his subject-self as "poor potsherd" and "matchwood." Surely this comes close to our "just ordinary" feeling even if its validation depends on faith in the resurrection. If we look back to Hopkins, we can per-ceive its secular potentials lurking within his very religious lines. In any case, now that it has emerged to stand on its own feet in our midst, we are challenged to respond afresh in faith to a new aspect of human self-realization. We may rejoice inthis event, but without a positive religious response of some kind the 16ss of transcendence becomes palpable. We may happily accept the growth of a human value, but its simultaneous excision from religious meanings calls for new initiatives, for real adaptations which do not downgrade the relevance of our transcendent faith but rather give it fresh impetus, redirecting its energies in new ways. Two principles may be l~ormulated in this regard. I have already been exploring the first of these, which might be put as follows: The Principle of Adaptation: Every new growth of secular competence should stimulate a corresponding renewal of sacred powers. The second may'be named: The Principle of Intensity: In our creative response to a given process of secularization, one important criterion would be a specific heighten-ing, rather than any lessening, in the experience of transcendence. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 497 Whenever the Christian component is subtly reduced to a comfortable repetition of now irrelevant phrases, this second principle has been ignored. The urgency of transcendent faith for human affairs can easily be diminished without any advertence to its loss. Our "just ordinary" feeling, for example, simply cries out for creative faith responses. But what are these to be? That is the real issue. Will our sense of Christian humility be intensifie~l instead of being replaced? What fresh meaning can we now give to the crucial "poverty of spirit" which indicates membership in the Lord's kingdom? The heightened subjectivity that often seems to afflict us may also serve to awaken creative potentials previously unknown. Even though it makes us experience our human limits as never before, our acceptance of "just ordi-nary" feelings could, in fact, lead to new dimensions of liberation. But this will not be automatic. Our spiritual behavior will need to adjust itself cre-atively to the new gift. Possible responses are always at hand. Whenever in faith the members of our new communities reflect upon the significance of feeling "just ordinary" togetherl I believe the Real Presence of the risen Christ may receive a fresh emphasis. This heightened communal awareness may correspond in a unique way to our traditional poverty of spir-it. Precisely here a new intensity of faith may be gathering force. During the nineteen-twenties T.S. Eliot insistently employed the symbol of the Angelus bell, a traditional reminder of the moment of Incarnation. In that extraordinary instant, and whenever it is made present to us today, tran-scendent powers cut through the secular time dimension to disturb our mod-em preoccupations. In similar fashion a few decades earlier, wher~ striving to resist new inroads of modernity Pope Pius X led Catholic parishes to give renewed attention to the Real Presence in the Eucharist (mainly as reserved in the tabernacle or received during Holy Communion). Whatever judgments we may wish to pass upon those earlier modes of resis-tance, it seems clear that a creative response for today will need to focus on the Eucharist as an action performed by the whole community. We may be able to enter the eucharistic action as full participants because we surrender in faith to the Lord who makes his Real Presence felt in our ways of relating to one another. The "just ordinary" feeling may be chosen as a means to that effective recognition. When in a small faith community the members have learned how to act and speak out of their newfound sense of ordinary selfhood, all their gifts may be appreciated warmly and without exaggeration. They can be put into action zestfully since the members are set free from the anxieties of personal competition. Each one's acceptance by all the others may become intensified through the distinctly felt presence of the risen Lord in their community today--not merely by anticipat.ing the Second Coming. 498 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 In short, we are being graced, membered in a new life, invigorated, and turned in hope to the future by this much more active presence of Christ. That intensification of God's "reigning" in us may correspond accurately and be found to dovetail beautifully with the newly released "just ordinary" feelings of the members about themselves. NOTES l Method in Theology, New York: Herder & Herder, 1972, pp. 257-262. 2 On this distinction see Robert Bellah and others, Habits of the Heart, Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: Univ. of California Press, 1985, pp. 32-35 and passim. 3 SeeThomas ~ Kempis, The Imitation of Christ, trans. Wm. Creasy, Notre Dame, Ind.: Ave Maria Press, 1989; "Introduction," pp. 11-13. Also Devotio Moderna: Basic Writings, trans. J. van Engen, New York: Paulist Press, 1988; "Introduction," p. 8: "The Imitation of Christ has undoubtedly proved the most influential devotional book in Western Christian history." It has also been translated into all the great lan-guages of the world. 4 Book I, chap. 28; trans. Creasy, p. 32. 5 Book III, chap. 8; trans. Creasy, p. 95. 6 Book III, chap. 14; trans. Creasy, p. 102. 7 Details are given in J. Leclercq, E Vandenbrouke, L. Bouyer, The Spirituality of the Middle Ages (vol. 11 of The History of Christian Spirituality), London: Bums & Oates, 1968, pp. 481-486 (text by F. Vandenbrouke). 8 Trans. Joseph Rickaby, S.J., Chicago: Loyola Univ. Press, 1929; vol. II, pp. 165- 352: "The Eleventh Treatise: On Humility." See chap. IIl: "Of Another Main Motive for a Man to. gain Humility, which is the Consideration of His Sins." (The first main motive, given in chap. II, is "To know oneself to be full of miseries and weak-nesses.") 9 Walter J. Ong, S.J., Hopkins, the Self, and God, Toronto, Buffalo, London: Univ. of Toronto Press, 1986; see especially pp. 22-28. For a recent philosophical discus-sion see Frederick Copleston, S.J., The Tablet, 11 Nov. 1989 (vol. 243, no. 7791), pp. 1302-1303. l0 Cited by Alphonsus Rodriguez, Practice of Perfection and Christian Virtues, p. 168, see n. 8, above. Chap. II, "That Humility is the Foundation of All Virtues," pp. 168-170; chap. III, "In Which It Is Shown More in Detail How Humility Is the Foundation of All Virtues, by Going Through the Chief of Them." ~l On this, see Bellah and others, Habits of the Heart (n. 2, above), pp. 117-121, for its development in the U.S.A. But similar versions of "modem nervousness" and "therapeutic culture" could be gathered from the other Western traditions (Continental, English, Canadian.). ~2 Confer Paul C. Vitz, Psychology As Religion, Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1977, pp. 20-27, for a discussion of Carl Rogers, Abraham Maslow, and Rollo May as moving from religious into secular concerns. Choosing to be "Just Ordinary" / 499 ~3 The Poems of Gerard Manley Hopkins, ed. W.H. Gardiner and N.H. MacKenzie, 4th ed., London: Oxford Univ. Press, 1967; poem no. 57, p. 90. 14 Ibid, poem no. 72, p. 106. The Hunter Yahweh's manifest love has all the proud and fierce majesty of a turkey buzzard flying with outstretched wings upon hot afternoon breezes, which are thrust upward unconstrained from ocher grabens below. This carnivorous bird is the other side of the symbolic dove. It is the Master of the Universe when he is not content waiting for hesitant or indifferent souls who fail to seek him. Rather, he becomes the strident hunter pursuing those who choose hiding in dark shadows caused by lichen-covered trees, or along cow-trodden riverbanks, where brown mud oozes into slowly flowing, opaque waters. Yahweh spreads his wings, searches for the goats and lambs, such as you and me, when we forget how to look for him circling over us in the translucent sky. Brother Richard Heatley, F. S. C. De La Salle, "Oaklands" 131 Farnham Avenue Toronto, Ontario Canada M4A 1H7 At the Threshold of a Christian Spirituality: Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal Method John McMurry, S. S Father John McMurry, S.S., cun'ently serves at the St. Mary's Spiritual Center and as a spiritual director for St. Mary's Seminary and University in Baltimore, Maryland. He has taken part in thirty workshops led by Dr. Ira Progoff since 1976, and he has led some sixty Intensive Journal workshops since 1978. His address is All Saints Church; 4408 Liberty Heights Avenue; Baltimore, Maryland 21207. Since 1978 1 have been teaching Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal method occasionally at weekend workshops. Dialogue House, the umbrella organiza-tion covering all of Progoff's works, describes his method as a program of "professional and personal growth with a spiritual point of view." It is a non-analytic means for individuals to attain two goals. First, it enables individu-als to recognize and accept the wholeness of their life without denying the reality of any of its contents, no matter how unpleasant or embarrassing. Secondly, it enables individuals to get a feel for the consistency in the direc-tion that their life is taking as they discover potentials for the future hidden within their personal past. The goals of the program are attained by means of a variety of written exercises which are done in a group setting under the direction of an experi-enced leader who is committed to follow authorized guidelines. Individuals in the group work in private with the contents of their own life. The only prereq-uisites are an atmosphere of quiet and mutual respect, and an attitude of open-ness and acceptance on the part of each exercitant toward his or her own life. The program is not only nonanalytic; it is also nonjudgmental and is structured to help people experientially discover answers to questions such as the following: Where am I in the course of my life right now? How did I get to the place where I am in the course of life? Where is my life trying to go from here? What is the next step? 500 Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 501 The Intensive Journal method itself has no content. The method is a dynamic structure to which each person supplies the content from one's own life. The structure aims at enabling individuals to establish deeper contact with the flow of creative energy in their own life. It is especially useful for people engaged in decision-making, for people who feel confused about the next step in life, for those who have lost contact with the direction their life wants to take, for those who feel alienated, isolated, or meaningless, and for those who simply want to expand their personal horizons of creativity. In creating the Intensive Journal program, Progoff had in mind people in a secular culture who are unfamiliar with or alienated by traditional religious language. However, the awarenesses stimulated by the exercises of his method serve to help Christians experience meaning in traditional doctrines which might otherwise remain merely propositional. In the case of people who approach it from the perspective of faith, the Intensive Journal program is a form of prayer. The Intensive Journal Method as Prayer In a chapter entitled "Prayer as Dialogue," Karl Rahner discusses prayer in terms apropos of the Intensive Journal method. He is addressing a com-mon problem of people who are earnest in their efforts to enter into dialogue with God. They often state the problem something like this: "When I pray, I cannot tell whether I am talking to myself or to God." Rahner challenges the presupposition that God says "something" to us in prayer. He raises some "what-ifs": What if we were to say that in prayer we experience ourselves as the utterance of God, ourselves as arising from and decreed by God's freedom in the concreteness of our existence? What if what God primarily says to us is ourselves in the facticity of our past and present and in the freedom of our future? Rahner concludes that when, by grace, we experience ourselves as the utterance of God to himself and understand this as our true essence, which includes the free grace of God's self-communication, and when in prayer we freely accept our existence as the word of God in which God promises him-self to us with his word, then our prayer is already dialogic, an exchange with God. Then we hear ourself as God's address. We do not hear "some-thing" in addition to ourself as the one already presupposed in our dead fac-ticity, but we hear ourself as the self-promised word in which God sets up a listener and to which God speaks himself as an answer. 1 Rahner is suggesting that God's word to me in prayer is not an idea; rather, God's word to me in prayer'is myself, that is, my personal, individual life story--past, present, and future. The implication is that my life story is 502 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 important in my relationship with God because it is the way God speaks to me and I to God. A further implication of Rahner's proposal is that I enter into dialogue with God ipsofacto under three conditions: 1) when I experience my life story as God's word addressed to himself; 2) when at the same time I understand that God is really present in my actual life story--past, present, and future-- as a free and undeserved gift of himself to me; 3) and when I freely accept my life story as the word of God in which God promises his Word to me. The Intensive Journal program is an instrument which lends itself to the discovery of the real presence of God in one's own personal life story. The content of the program is the content of the life of the Journal-writer; hence it is through the life of the Journal-writer that Christian faith may enter into the individual's use of the Intensive Journal exercises. Progoff has described the prayer dimension of his method as follows: The Intensive Journal work is indeed a species of prayer and meditation, but not in isolation from life and not in contrast to active life involve-ment. Rather, it is meditation in the midst of the actuality of our life experiences. It draws upon the actualities of life for new awarenesses, and it feeds these back into the movement of each life as a whole.2 The Intensive Journal Method and Spirituality In his "handbook of contemporary spirituality," Rahner raises the ques-tion whether the term "spirituality" is good, understandable, useful, or even has any meaning. Then he makes the observation that the crucial point for personal and pastoral life today is not so much a matter of getting the "spiri-tual" dimension of existence into our heads or other people's by means of abstract and conceptual indoctrination (which he says is ineffective anyway) as it is a matter of discovering the Spirit as that which we really experience in ourselves.3 Perhaps Rahner slightly understates the case. It may be that the crucial point for us personally and in our pastoral work today is simply to discover "the Spirit" as a fact of our own personal experience and to help others do the same. Furthermore, in order to be able to use the word "spirituality," we might let it refer simply to the individual's .relationship with God or, in other words, to what goes on in the creative process between God and each of us. This article presents Ira Progoff's Intensive Journal program as an aid to the process which is going on between an individual and God. The program adds no content to the life of the individual; it mirrors the movement which is already going on and stimulates that movement by feeding new aware- Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 503 nesses back into the movement of life. ("Journal feedback" is one of the main features which distinguish this method from an ordinary diary.) This program, then, is a dynamic structure for evoking self-transcendence from the factual contents of a life story. For a person of faith it is a way of discov-ering the Spirit "as what we really experience in ourselves." Genesis of the Intensive Journal Method Following Progoff's discharge from the U.S. Army, he earned a doctor-ate in the area of'the history of ideas from the New School of Social Research in New York City. On the basis of his dissertation, Jung's Psychology and Its Social Meaning, published in 1953 and still in print, Progoff was awarded grants for postdoctoral studies with Carl Jung for two years. By virtue of those studies Progoff was licensed as a therapist by the state of New York, where he went into private practice after returning from Switzerland. In 1959 Progoff founded the Institute for Research in Depth Psychology at Drew University in New Jersey and served as its director until 1971. During those twelve years-he and his graduate students searched out the dynamics of creativity in published biographies of creative people whose life stories had ended. From his research Progoff concluded that creativity occurs through the interplay among various dimensions of life which may at first seem disparate. On the surface it may appear that the process in one dimension is unrelated to the process in another dimension, whereas in fact something new comes into being when the individual makes correlations among the dimensions of life. It is as though the individual is a complexus of certain processes which occur throughout life on different planes. Progoff has developed, the Intensive Journal method over more than a quarter-century of helping his clients apply the fruits of his research by dis-covering hidden sources of creativity within their own lives. He began teach-ing his method to groups in the late 1950s. In 1975 he published At a Journal Workshop, a thorough description of his haethod up to that time. In 1980 he published a companion volume, The Practice of Process Meditation, which added another dimension to the program. Dimensions of Human Existence In Progoff's view, the artist is paradigmatic. Each individual is both the artist and the ultimate artwork of life, and yet individuals execute the art-work which is themselves by engaging in outer activity which has inner meaning for the one doing it and beneficial consequences for society. In other words, in order for each of us to be fulfilled as an individual, we must 504 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 do some work (opus as distinguished from labor) which is both personally and socially meaningful. At the same time as we are creating our lifework, the doing of the work is creative of us. The basic dialogue of life is the dynamic actual (as distinguished from logical) dialogue between human cre-ators and their works. In Progoff's words, "Outward activity propelled from within is the essence of creative existence.''4 From his research on the lives of creative people Progoff learned to dis-tinguish certain dimensions of life as loci of the components of creativity. The Intensive Journal method recognizes those dimensions as sources of the raw material of creativity in anybody's life, They are the dimensions of time, ¯ of relationships, and of personal symbols. The Intensive Journal workbook uses color-coded dividers to mark off various sections in each of which the Journal-writer deals with the move-ment in one particular dimension of life. Within each of the main sections are tabbed subdividers of the same color as the main divider. Each tab bears the name of the specific exercise to be entered there. For example, the "Life/Time Dimension" is indicated by a red divider and contains four tabbed red subdividers; each of the four tabs bears the title of the written exercise to be entered there by the Journal writer. Similarly, the dimension of personal relationships in life, called the "Dialogue Dimension," is indicated by an orange divider and comprises five tabbed subdividers for each of the five "dialogue exercises." The part of the Intensive Journal workbook for making entries which deal with dreams and personal imagery is called the "Depth Dimension." It is indicated by a blue divider and five tabbed blue subdividers. In summary, the workbook comprises sections which reflect and stimu-late the movement of an individual life in each of its dimensions. Each of the main sections of the workbook represents a dimension of life and comprises several subsections for various written exercises which deal with the con- "tents of that life in styles appropriate to that particular dimension. The Dimension of Life/Time We do not get the chance to start life over, but the Intensive Journal pro-gram does offer us a tested means of restructuring our life from the perspec-tive of the present. At the same time it provides a means of discovering unactualized potentials which we may have overlooked the first time around, or which were not ripe then and may at some point in time be able to take a form they could not have taken originally. In studying the biography of a deceased person generally recognized as creative, the end or goal of that career may be clear and unmistakable, even Progof['s Intensive Journal Method / 505 though the lif'e story includes setbacks, stalls, reversals, and obstacles. It may be easy to see how everything in that life was leading up to some great scientific or philosophical work because we are viewing it from the perspec-tive of the end. But what if I am the life story I am working with? In that case the life process is still in progress. I am not looking at a still photograph but a mov-ing picture, and I am looking at it from the inside. In that case I start with the present epoch of my personal life and get a feel for this period of life from the inside. That is, I allow myself to feel the quality or tone of my life during this present period and record it objectively. The record I make of the pre-sent period will be an objective statement of my subjective experience of life at present. Then I am in a position to allow the course of my life to present itself to me from the perspective of the present in the form of about a dozen significant events. Each of those significant events serves to characterize a whole period of life. Of course, many other things also happened during that period. There are other exercises for dealing with them. The idea in this exercise is to get a feel for the wholeness and continuity of my life as I allow it to present itself to me in an articulated form so that I can use other Journal exercises to deal with it one period at a time. All the Intensive Journal exercises presuppose the attitude of openness and receptivity mentioned above, a nonjudgmental attitude toward life. It is not so much the objective contents of a life that affect its degree of creativi-ty, as the subjective attitude toward that life. In the creative restructuring of a life, a relaxed, friendly approach which allows surprises is important. Dimension of Relationships In the life/time dimension treated above, there is a principle of whole-ness, continuity, and direction,toward-a-goal at work. In the dimension of relationships, the dynamic is that of dialogue, that is, the give-and-take of equals listening and responding to each other in a spirit of mutual trust and acceptance. The principle of "dialogue relationship" applies first of all to significant people during various epochs of life. The. same dynamic applies analogously to meaningful work-projects (opera), which, like persons, seem to have a life of their own. In his research on creative lives, Progoff discovered that creativity occurs when people approach several kinds of meaningful contents of their life not as inert matter to be manipulated but as personal entities. That is, he discovered that creativity occurs when people acknowledge that each of sev-eral meaningful contents of their life has a life story of its own analogous to 506 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 that of a person. Each of these contents of life has a life story with blockages to growth toward a goal, with hopes, disappointments, successes, and so forth. He found that for the sake of movement toward acceptance of life and all it holds, it is of paramount importance to establish a "dialogue rel~ition-ship" not only with persons and works but witl~ the physical and societal dimensions of life, and with events, situations, and circumstances of life which "just happen." Progoff's research into de facto creative lives yielded two important corollaries. First, the movement which the dialogue relationship fosters is intrinsic to the "creative spirit. Secondly, in the dimension of relationships as well as in other dimensions of life, the factual contents of life are less impor-tant in the creative process than the way people relate to whatever the con-tents of their life are. The "Dialogue Dimension" of the Intensive Journal workbook offers a format for a variety of exercises which enable the Journal writer to engage in written dialogue with people who have played meaningful roles in their life, with work projects, their own body, sources of values in their life (v.g., fami-ly, ethnicity, religious commitment), and things over which they had no con-trol. The purpose of these dialogue scripts is to give a voice to the meaningful contents of life, that is, to provide them a forum in which mutu-ality can flourish in the form of a "dialogue relationship" rather than a mere-ly utilitarian relationship. This leaves the Journal writer open to the possibility of something new emerging from an old relationship from the past. That new something may contribute an insight or an awareness which is of benefit to another relationship or which creatively affects the movement in another dimension of life. The Dimension of Inner Symbols This dimension of life refers to dreams, "twilight imagery" and personal wisdom-figures as the vehicles which come forward spontaneously to carry the movement of life further. The aim of the exercises in this part of the Journal, called the "Depth Dimension," is to facilitate spontaneous correla-tions between inner imagery and outer life so that new insights, awarenesses, and possibilities for action and decision-making might come to the surface of consciousness. Then, by means of appropriate Journal exercises, they can be fed back into the ongoing movement of life and thus stimulate growth by creating new configurations in the way things fit together in life. Progoff tends to shy away from the use of dreams in his method because many people seem unable to deal with them except analytically. The Intensive Journal method of working with dreams is basically to allow the movement Progoffs Intensive Journal Method / 507 in a recurring dream or in a cluster of dreams to suggest some correlation with movement in one of the other dimensions of life. Then the exercitant may use appropriate Journal exercises to work in that dimension of life. The Fourth Dimension: The Spiritual As mentioned above, Progoff sees the Intensive Journal work in geoeral as "a species of prayer and meditation., in the midst of the actuality of our life experiences." However, he came to appreciate the role of the spiritual dimension in creativity only after he had developed Journal exercises in the three dimensions of life treated briefly above. The specifically spiritual dimension is reflected in his program as the dimension of meaning. The procedures for working in that dimension are called "Process Meditation." In the Intensive Journal program, formal work in this dimension is reserved for those who have already taken part in the "Life Context Workshop," which deals with the three dimensions of life treated above. As Rahner has said, "A basic and original transcendental experience is really rooted [in] a finite spirit's subjective and free experience of itself.''5 The "process" of "Process Meditation" refers to "the principle of conti-nuity in the universe" which is found on three levels: the cosmic, the s6ci-etal, and the personally interior.6 The Intensive Journal method helps the individual relate to "process" on the interior level. The movement of life in the three dimensions treated above is character-istically movement toward personal wholeness and the integration of the individual with oneself. Progoff calls that movement "core creativity." "In terms of individual lives," he writes, "the essence of process in human expe-rience lies in the continuity of its movement toward new integrations, the formation of new holistic units [of life/time].''7 In the spiritual dimension of life the movement is characterized by rela-tionships which transcend the core creativity of the individual. The roots of such relationships--even the personal relationship of the individual to God--are to be found in the stuff of everyday life, but at a deeper than ordi-nary level. Rahner speaks of the knowledge of God as "concrete, original, histori-cally constituted, and transcendental." He further says that such knowledge of God "is inevitably present in the depths of existence in the most ordinary human life.''8 Progoff interprets "meditation" broadly. In his usage it refers to whatev-er methods or practices one uses in the effort to reach out toward meaning. "The essence of meditation," he says, "lies in its intention, in its commit- 508 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ment to work inwardly to reach into the depths beyond the doctrines of our beliefs.''9 Hence, "Process Meditation" refers to a set of exercises which draw on the individual exercitant's intimations or experiences of connected-ness to the principle of continuity in the universe. Progoff describes his method of Process Meditation as follows: Our basic procedure is to reenter the process by which our individual spiritual history has been moving toward meaning . We reenter that pro-cess so as to reconnect ourselves with the inner principle of its move-ment, and especially so that we can take a further step toward the artwork that is our personal sense of meaning,l° Conclusion In a review of The Practice of Process Meditation, William V. Dych, S.J., translator of Rahner into English, compares what Rahner calls "the uni-versal presence of grace and the Spirit" with Progoff's thesis that "there is in every human being an inner source of new light and life that expresses itself whenever the circumstances are right." Dych views Progoff's thesis as so supportive of Rahner's position that it would be hard to imagine a more pos-itive affirmation of it. ~ NOTES i Karl Rahner, The Practice of Faith: A Handbook of Contemporary Spirituality, ed. Karl Lehmann'and Albert Raffelt (New York: Crossroad, 1984), pp. 94-95. 1 Ira Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation: The Intensive Journal Way to Spiritual Experience (New York: Dialogue House Library, 1980), p. 18. 3 Rahner, op cit, p. ! 86. 4 Ira Progoff, At a Journal Workshop: The Basic Text and Guide for Using the Intensive Journal (New York: Dialogue House Library, 1975), p. 35. 5 Karl Rahner, Foundations of Christian Faith: An Introduction to the Idea of Christianity, trans. William V. Dych (New York: The Seabury Press, 1978), p. 75. 6 Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation, p. 40. 7 Ibid, p. 58. 8 Rahner, Foundations of Christian Faith, p. 57. 9 Progoff, The Practice of Process Meditation, p. 34. l0 Ibid, p. 82. II William V. Dych, "The Stream that Feeds the Well Within," Commonweal, 25 September 1981 Our Journey Inward: A Spirituality of Addiction and Recovery Maureen Conroy, R.S.M. Sister Maureen Conroy is co-director of the Upper Room Spiritual Center; EO. Box 1104; Neptune, New Jersey 07753. [~qany of us travel a great deal throughout our lives. With advanced means of transportation, traveling around the state, country, or world has become second nature to us. However, no matter how much or how far we travel, as we journey through life we discover that there is no journey more challeng-ing and scary than the journey inward, the journey to find true happiness and our most authentic self. We search for what is fulfilling and life-giving, but at times our searching takes us down the dark road of addictive behavior. We search for happiness in compulsive ways that deaden us rather than give us life--until we experience a desperate need for help. In this article I reflect on the darkness pervading the addictive process and some ways to journey through the darkness to our truer self. I discuss three aspects of our journey from addiction to recovery--woundedness and wholeness, powerlessness and surrender, and pain and compassion--and describe some dimensions of a spirituality of addiction and recovery related to these three aspects. A Spirituality of Woundedness and Wholeness As human beings God has given us the gifts of strength and freedom; we are called to live in the light. It is also true, however, that we are wounded, weak, vulnerable, broken people. We come from an environment of dark-ness. The brokenness in our ancestry and the dysfunction in our families has influenced our growth as free human beings. We are broken and we are in deep need of healing and redemption. We cannot save ourselves. In our addictive stance we want to avoid our woundedness, ignore our 509 510 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 weakness, and run from our vulnerability. We seek fulfillment through an object, a substance, or a process; that is, we form a pathological relationship with a mood-altering reality in order to find wholeness and happiness. We find it difficult to be honest about the dysfunction in our families and the brokenness in ourselves, so we look for something outside ourselves to keep us from facing our darkness. Spiritual growth and recovery, however, are just the opposite of this avoidance. To grow humanly and spiritually we must journey in and through our woundedness; we must face it head on. We need to feel the messiness of our brokenness and to discover God there. As Psalm 50 says, "a broken and humbled heart, O God, you will not spurn." We must discover that God's heart of love encompasses and holds as precious our wounded hearts, bodies, and spirits. It is through dwelling in our woundedness and vulnerability that we experience our authentic self and that we enable our addictive self to grow less powerful. We come to experience the child within and integrate our dark side with our light side. How do we make this journey in and through our woundedness? We do it by uncovering our addiction layer by layer. By this I mean we allow the walls of denial and layers of dishonesty to reveal themselves; we honestly appraise our unhealthy behaviorL Denial blocks our inner journey. It is a buffer against any reality thatis not acceptable to us, a way to protect our-selves from awareness of realities that are too difficult to face. Spiritual growth happens when we remove layer upon layer of denial that covers over our woundedness and our truer selves. Rather than avoiding our wounds, we need to expose them to the fresh air, to expose our broken hearts to the heal-ing .heart of God, to bring our darkness out into the light of day, to bring hid-den realities out to the light of God's love and the care of others. As Meister Eckhart says, "God is not found in the soul by adding anything, but by a pro-cess of subtraction." So it is through peeling off layer upon layer of denial and dishonesty that we discover God in our brokenness. We discover the original blessing that we are, our deeper and truer selves. We see and feel the aspects of ourselves--minds, hearts, and bodies--that mirror God's pres-ence. We experience the truth of the Genesis story where God says, "Let us make people in our image and likeness." We discover the authentic self that God desires to be fully human and fully alive. Growth in wholeness, therefore, takes place through integrating our dark side with our light side, through accepting our brokenness as we journey through it, by seeing the original blessing that we are. We discover that "darkness and light are the same" (Ps 139:12), that God is present in every dimension of our being. Thus, our woundedness becomes a gift, so rather Our Journey Inward / S'l'l than covering it over with layers of denial, we come to feel at home there because God is there. We discover our truer self underneath the layers of an addictive self. We integrate our wounded and blessed self, our darkness and our light, and we become more and more a whole person. We experience the truth proclaimed by St. Irenaeus: "God's greatest glory is a person fully alive." A Spirituality of Powerlessness and Surrender The journey through addiction to recovery is also one of powerlessness and surrender. God sent Jesus in the flesh to free us from our enslavement to sin and to show us the way t6 live in freedom. It was through Jesus' total surrender to his death on the cross that he experienced new life and showed us the way to true freedom, the freedom of letting go and surrender. In our addictive stance, we are trying to control everyone and everything around us. We grow hardheaded and hardhearted, and we attempt to control the sub-stance or process that we are abusing--alcohol, food, money, sex, work, or an obsessive relationship. We are out of control, and the more we try to con-trol everyone and everything around us, even the substance we are abusing, the more out of control we become. Our addiction is enslaving us to our own self-centered needs and desires. We are "number one" when we are addicted; our addictive needs come bei'ore everyone else. Our addiction enslaves us to an object or process that we think is going to bring us lasting happiness when it is really bringing us misery and isolation. It enslaves us emotionally, spiritually, physically, and socially. The more we try to control the use of our addictive reality, the more we lose con-trol. We deny the basic reality that Paul~ expresses: "The desire to do right is within me, but not the power. What happens is that I do, not the good I will, but the evil I do not intend. But if I do what is against my will, it is not I who do it but sin which dwells in me" (Rm 7~18-20). In our denial we keep think-ing we can choose to keep this substance in right order; however, the rbality is that our will is not working, it is diseased. We are powerless. So how does spiritual growth and recovery happen in relation to our being out of control? It begins when we admit our powerlessness, realize the insanity of thinking that we can control all aspects of our lives and our des-tiny. Spiritual growth happens through the journey of surrender, not control; it begins at the moment of surrender. We need to admit that our ability to choose has become greatly impaired through the disease of our addiction. Our trying to choose not to drink, not to overeat, not to overwork, not to engage in compulsive sexual activity, is just not working. Our willpower simply does not work. As we begin to admit our powerlessness and surrender to God, we find 512 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 new life. When we surrender rather than control, we are choosing life: "I have set before you life and death, a blessing and a curse. Choose life, then, that you may live, by loving the Lord your God, heeding God's voice and holding fast to God. For that will mean life for you" (Dt 30:19-20). As we admit our powerlessness and surrender to God, true power grows within us--the power to love others, the power to experience God's love, and the power to love ourselves. Through our surrender we come more deeply in touch with our authentic self--the self that is alive and not dead, free and not enslaved, joyful and not depressed. True freedom grows--a freedom that heals rather than hurts, that brings about growth rather than destruction, that results in life rather than death. In our surrender we begin to make positive choices for recovery, attend-ing twelve-step meetings and living the twelve-step program. We choose to take responsibility for our lives and our recovery, like the paralyzed man who had lain at the pool of Bethsaida for thirty-eight years until Jesus asked: "Do you want to be healed?" We need to respond to that same question in our addiction because recovery is hard work; it involves a gre.at deal of sacri-fice and responsibility. Also, through our daily admission of powerlessness and constant atti-tude of surrender, we discover God in a new way--a God who supports us in our weakness and strengthens us in time of need, a God who will not leave us even in our most out-of-control moments. We discover in Jesus a God " who has experienced weakness and powerlessness, a God who has stood totally stripped and poor, a God who invites us to have the attitude of a vul-nerable child rather than a controlling adult: "Unless you become like a little child, you shall not enter the kingdom of God." We experience a God whose power takes over in our weakness, as St. Paul discovered through his strug-gle: "Three times [which means numerous times] I begged the Lord that this might leave me. God said to me, 'My grace is enough for you, for in weak-ness power reaches perfection.' " It was through constantly admitting his powerlessness that Paul's spiritual growth and recovery took place. So he says: "I willingly boast of my weaknesses instead, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I am content with weakness., for when I am powerless it is then that I am strong" (2 Co 12:8-10). Thus, through admit-ting our powerlessness over an object of addiction and surrend.ering to God our weakness, we experience the power of God, the love of God, new life, renewed freedom. We move forward on the journey ,of recovery. A Spirituality of Pain and Compassion Finally, the journey through addiction to recovery is one of pain and Our Journey Inward / ~313 compassion. One of the hard facts of life is that suffering is an integral part of it. Jesus himself had to suffer great pain in order to bring new life. Our God is not a distant God but a compassionate God who experienced great pain, the pain of loving us. In our addictive stance, we deal with pain in an unhealthy way. We want to run from it, cover it over, deny it. We are caught in a "Catch 22" situation because, in using a substance to avoid our pain, we are really in great pain-- the pain of loneliness, isolation, and alienation from our true self and from healthy relationships with others. As our addiction progresses, it becomes increasingly painful to maintain our denial. We are overcome by the pain of shame and self-disgust. Spiritual growth and recovery take place when we face that pain, feeling it, looking at it square in the face, rather than avoiding it by abusing a sub-stance. As our walls of denial break down, we begin to feel the pain we have been covering up--the pain of living, the pain of loss, the pain of being human, the pain of developing intimate relationships, the pain of childhood neglect and abuse. We find out that healing involves pain, as in the case of lepers. Leprosy causes numbness. When Jesus healed the leper, he invited him to feel pain in the areas of previous nrmbness. The same is true of the leprosy of our addiction: as we begin to let down the walls of denial, we begin to feel pain. We realize that recovery and healing are not easy. As we journey through deeper levels of pain in our recovery, we discover a God who knows what it is to suffer. As Meister Eckhart says: "Jesus becam~ a human being because God, the Compassionate One, lacked a back to be beaten. God needed a back like our backs on which to receive blows and therefore to perform compassion as well as to preach it." Our compassionate God became a suffering God. Our God feels with us, suffers with us. Again, Eckhart says, "However great one's suffering is, if it comes through God, God suffers from it first." What a gift we have in a God who suffers with us! As we experience this tremendous love of a compassionate God, we become people of compassion, persons who can feel with others in their bro-kenness. We become more vulnerable and grow toward greater wholeness because love is the greatest healer. As our walls of denial are penetrated with God's compassionate love and we become more vulnerable, we can be with people in their brokenness. That is one of the beautiful realities of the twelve-step program: it is a group of people who are in touch with their bro-kenness and therefore have great compassion for those who are struggling. They live out these words of McNeill, Morrison, and Nouwen: "Compassion asks us to go where it hurts, to enter into places of pain, to share in broken-ness, fear, confusion, and anguish. Compassion challenges us to cry out with 514 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 those in misery, to mourn with those who are lonely, to weep with those in tears. Compassion requires us to be weak with the weak, vulnerable with the vulnerable, and powerless with the powerless. Compassion means full immersion in the condition of being human" (Compassion, p. 4). As we feel the pain that our addiction has tried to cover, we become wounded healers--people who minister out of our woundedness as well as our strength. "What you have received as a gift. give as a gift" (Mt 10:8). Our pain becomes a gift that we can give to other addicted people as we compas-sionately help them to face the devastation of their addictive behaviors. In sum, our inward journey involves walking down the dark paths of our brokenness into the light of God's presence and our authentic self. A spiritu-ality of addiction and recovery must include two sides of reality: awareness of our woundedness, powerlessness, and pain as well as growth in wholeness, surrender, and compassion. Without a vivid sense of the depths of our bro-kenness in our addicted self, we cannot move toward the wholeness of our authentic self. Without a keen awareness of our darkness, we are blind to the light of God's healing presence. Without an acute sense of our vulnerability, we cannot become compassionate healers who stand with others in their pain. Though scary and challenging, our journey through our own darkness will lead us to the light of true happiness, deeper fulfillment, and new life. Awareness Examen for Recovering People In God's presence, take ten to fifteen minutes to prayerfully reflect on your day. Contemplate your day together--you and God. Prayer of Thanksgiving I thank God for the gift of this day, the gift of my sobriety, the gift of my recovery. I thank God for specific git~s of life that come to mind, such as my health, my family, my community, my friends, my job, my twelve-step program. I thank God for gifts of my inner life, such as the ability to feel and think, energizing feelings I had during the day (name them), specific values and beliefs that guided my actions, ways I used my thinking and imagination for growth, positive choices for recovery which I made today, God's life within me. I thank God for two or three concrete life gifts and inner gifts that I am particularly aware of and grateful for today. Prayer for Light I humbly ask God to help me see myself and my life today as God sees Our Journey Inward them. I ask God to remove blindness and denial from my mind and heart. I ask God for the gift of honesty with myself and God. I ask God for a dis-ceming heart and a truthful mind. Prayer of Awareness God and I contemplate my life, my heart, and my thinking this day from the moment I woke up until now. What specific feelings did I feel today? When did I feel most alive today? most my true self?, most joyful? most peaceful? most in tune with my deeper self?. How did I feel God's presence today? What was that feeling like? What was God like? At what moment did I feel God's presence the strongest? When did I feel powerless today? out of control? enslaved? unfree? What was I powerless over? Did I surrender that reality to God? When did I feel vulnerable today? When did I feel pain today? What was the pain about? Did I share that painful feeling with God or another? With whom have I been most honest today? myself?, another? God? What was I honest about? How did I struggle with honesty today? With what issue or feeling? ' What were my feelings underneath the struggle? fear? anger? guilt? Which of the twelve steps was my strength today? How did I live it, carry it out, in a practical way? In what concrete ways did I strive to improve my conscious contact with God? What choices did I make for my recovery today? How do I feel about those choices? When did I feel compassion for another person today? How did I reach out to others today? show concem and care? make amends? Prayer of Amends I ask God to forgive any specific wrongdoings of today. I ask God to have mercy on any negative attitudes or feelings that I got stuck in today. Prayer of Surrender I surrender all to God: my life, my will, my brokenness, my addictions, my imagination, my thoughts, my feelings. I surrender to God specific attitudes, feelings, thoughts, actions over which I felt powerless today. I ask God's strength to take over in my specific weaknesses. I ask God's power to be present in the specific areas in which I feel helpless and powerless. 516 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 O God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference. Take, O Lord, and receive my liberty, my memory, my understanding, my entire will, all that I have and possess. You have given all to me. To you, O God, I return it. All is yours, dispose of it wholly according to your will. Give me your love and your grace, for this is sufficient for me. (Prayer from the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius) RECOMMENDED READING Larsen, Eamie. Stage H Recovery: Life Beyond Addiction. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1985. May, Gerald. Addiction and Grace. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1988. McNeill, Donald; Morrison, Douglas; and Nouwen, Henri. Compassion. New York: Doubleday & Co., 1966. Nakken, Craig. The Addictive Personality: Roots, Rituals, Recovery. Center City, Minn.: Hazelden, 1988. Whitfield, Charles L. Healing the Child Within. Pompano Beach, Florida: Health Communications, 1987. A Gift to Share The Jesuit Heritage Today "Ignatian prayer puts the history of salvation into the present tense." --Walter Burghardt, S.J. A Spirituality for Contemporary Life ¯ presents six stimulating reflections on the Jesuit heritage today. Theologians Walter IBurghardt, David Fleming, Monika Hellwig, Jon Sobrino, ElizabethJohnson, andJohn Padberg speak about living with God in ordinary life. ISBN 0-924768-02-9 112 pages List Price $5.95 A Resource to Keep See Order Form Inside Back Cover for Special Offer for Readers of Review for Religious Apostolic Spirituality: Aware We Are Sent James H. Kroeger, M.M. Father James Kroeger last appeared in our pages in May/June 1988. He has a doctor-ate in missiology from the Gregorian University and has published five books. His address: Maryknoll Fathers; EO. Box 285; Greenhills Post Office; 1502 Metro Manila; Philippines. Adequately capturing realities in the spiritual life always demands the use of dynamic, expansive language. For this reason, spirituality is frequently described in relational categories--between a Christian and a personal God, between the servant-herald and the crucified and risen Lord. Such a relation-ship of intimacy is at the heart of biblical spirituality: "I will be your God and you shall be my people"; Christians are Jesus' friends and call their heavenly Father "Abba." Spirituality may also variously be described as growth, an evolution toward maturity, a pilgrimage. Each category presents an authentic, albeit partial, grasp of the human-divine dynamic operative in our lives. In this article, "consciousness" or "awareness" is the category for our insight into spirituality, and it naturally overflows with an apostolic or missionary dynamism. Consciousness: A Window into Spirituality Consciousness may seem to be an elusive concept, yet no one would deny the reality. An individual is in a conscious state when perceptual and cognitive faculties function normally. One continuously synthesizes various stimuli from within and from without; ideally, the result is a healthy personal integration. Notice that many constitutive elements are included in consciousness: seeing, hearing, feeling, thinking, desiring, experiencing. Consciousness incorporates perceptions, emotions, observations, thoughts, aspirations, 517 5"11~ / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 choices. It also includes an introspective awareness of the personal impact of all events and experience. In light of this brief and rudimentary description of the phenomenon of human consciousness, one may begin to elaborate the relationship between consciousness and a spirituality of the apostolate. Our service--all focused on raising our God-consciousness and expanding the horizons of our spiritu-al awareness. We want to use our eyes to see perceptively and our ears to hear attentively; we hope to gain deepened insight into our lives through faith's mirror (Jm 1:22-25). In another vein, a look at the venerable Eastern traditions of many Asian nations reveals that the man of God or the God-conscious, God-focused per-son is essentially a seer, sage, or mystic. Such a person "sees" and experi-ences God; God is not an object of knowledge, but a subject of experience. To grow in holistic spirituality is concomitant with an experiential awareness and consciousness of God's presence and activity in all dimensions of one's life (Arguelles, 50-51). The beautiful prayer in the Upanishads, one of the Hindu sacred books, expresses the aspiration and spiritual desire to come to this deeper conscious union with the divine. In Sanskrit and English it is: Asato ma satgamaya Tamaso ma jyotir gamaya Mrutyu ma amrutam gamaya. God, lead me from untruth to truth Lead me from darkness to light Lead me from death to immortality. Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk and spiritual writer (1915-1968), has enabled countless people to gain insights into their spirituality. Merton inti-mately links spirituality and prayer with the transformation of conscious-ness. He sees that a renewed conscious awareness underlies all spiritual growth; Christians must cease to assert themselves as the center of con-sciousness and discover God's presence as the deepest center of conscious-ness within them. Thus, as their self-consciousness changes, they are transformed; their self is no longer its own center, it is now centered on God. It is important to note that for Merton no one will ever be capable of communion with God and others without ttiis deep awakening, this transfor-mation of consciousness. Such transformative growth "consists in a double movement, man's entering into the deepest center of himself, and then, after passing through that center, going out of himself to God" (Higgins, 49). Merton asserts that, unless our spirituality or prayer "does something to awaken in us a consciousness of our union with God, of our complete depen- Apostolic Spirituality / 5'19 dence upon him for all our vital acts in the spiritual life, and of his constant loving presence in the depths of our soul, it has not achieved the full effect for which it is intended" (Merton-A, 67). In today's world, "What is required of Christians is that they develop a completely modern and contemporary consciousness in which their experience as men of our century is integrated with their experiences as children of God redeemed by Christ" (Merton-B, 279). The renowned Indian theologian D.S. Amalorpavadass has written elo-quently on the role of consciousness or awareness in attaining spiritual inte-gration and interiorization: "If wholeness is a state of being at which one should finally arrive in stages, awareness is the running thread and unifying force. Awareness needs to flow like a river, like a blood-stream . Awareness is also the core of spirituality and God-experience." He repeats: "Awareness or consciousness should flow through the various actions of our life. One should maintain awareness in all that one does. It should serve as a running thread and connecting bond., through the various activities of our day, and the different periods and stages of our life, in an uninterrupted and continuous flow. This flow will make our whole life a continuous prayer and a state of contemplation" (Amalorpavadass, 4, 24). Brief glimpses of Scripture, Eastern traditions, a Trappist monk, and a contemporary theologian have shown that "consciousness" helps one grasp the human-divine dynamic operative in the Christian life. Within this catego-ry- which is foundational--a vibrant spirituality and a concomitant mis-sionary dynamism can flourish. And, in a Marian spirit, Christians who are missionary will grow ever more conscious of the marvelous deeds that God is accomplishing in us, our neighbors, our society, our Church, and the entire world. The Consciousness of Paul the Missionary The New Testament describes Paul's radical awareness of God's active presence in his life. Though not naturally prone to humility, Paul admits that he was knocked to the/~round; in Damascus "something like scales fell from his eyes," By grace h~ perceived that he was the chosen instrument to bring Good News to the Gentiles and that he would accomplish his mission only with hardship and suffering (Ac 9). Paul's consciousness of his apostolic calling was certainly at the basis of his extraordinary missionary journeys. Without a vivid perception and faith commitment, no one would willingly endure the challenges Paul faced. Such endurance would be foolishness. Yet Paul is never willing, even momentari-ly, to minimize his authority and commitment as an apostle; the introductory 520 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 verses of many of his letters are clear evidence of this. Paul's conversion was no superficial or passing phenomenon. It penetrated the core of his person and totally transformed his way of thinking and acting--his consciousness. Further investigation into Pauline theology and spirituality reveals the depth of his convictions. Paul is absolutely certain that God has a wonderful, marvelous, loving plan of salvation for the entire world (note his frequent use of the words mysterion and oikonomia). His letter to the Ephesians con-vincingly, almost mystically, explains how "God has given us the wisdom to understand fully the mystery,'~ "the mysterious design which for ages was hidden in God." Pauline reflection on God's loving plan of salvation (mysterion) synthe-sizes his belief that this design has been fully revealed in Christ and will be recapitulated in Christ at the end of time. This manifestation is focused on salvation, not condemnation or judgment, and is open to all peoples. It unfolds in stages: God, Jesus, Spirit, Church, world. Humanity's response is faith or personal appropriation of the mysterion (Fitzmyer, 807-808). A recent scholarly investigation (Plevnik, 477-478) has concluded that "Any center of Pauline theology must therefore include all these components of the apostle's gospel, his understanding of Christ, involving the Easter event and its implications, the present lordship, the future coming of Christ, and the appropriation of salvation. The center is thus not any single aspect of Christ, or of God's action through Christ, but rather the whole and undivided richness and mystery of Christ and of the Father's saving purpose through his Son" (mysterion). Mystery, in one word, captures the Christian message. Paul is the missionary par excellence because he believed, lived, prayed, served, reflected, witnessed, preached, and suffered so that God's mysterion would be known, extended, loved, and freely received. Obviously, Paul's missionary consciousness had the "mysterion encounter" as its central focus and driving force. Paul's self-awareness as an apostle was rooted in being chosen as a ser-vant and minister of God's loving plan of salvation. It might be asserted that the mysterion engulfed and consumed Paul; his consciousness was so trans-formed that he could assert that Christ lived in him, that fellow Christians could imitate him, that life or death no longer mattered, and that he gloried in giving his life for Christ. In a word, the mysterion is foundational to Paul's missionary identity and consciousness. Mission and Mysterion Consciousness The Second Vatican Council in its decree on the missionary activity of the Church places mission and evangelization at the center of the Church-- Apostolic Spirituality / 52'1 not allowing this task to float somewhere on the periphery: "The pilgrim Church is missionary by her very nature" (AG, 2). Pope Paul VI continues in the same vein: "We wish to confirm once more that the task of evangelizing all peoples constitutes the essential mission of the Church . Evangelizing is in fact the grace and vocation proper to the Church, her deepest identity. She exists in order to evangelize." (EN, 14). To evangelize--what meaning does this imperative have for the Church? It is to be no less than the living proclamation of the mysterion, God's loving design of universal salvation. As the community of Jesus' disciples, the Church realizes her "deepest identity" and "her very nature" when she ful-fills her mission of evangelization. She is to be always and everywhere "the universal sacrament of salvation" (LG, 48; AG, 1). For her, to live is to evangelize. In contemporary terms, the Church accomplishes her "self-realization" or "self-actualization" through mission and evangelization. She is only authentic and true to herself when she is announcing and witnessing the mys-terion. A nonmissionary Church is impossible; it is self-contradictory. The great missionary pope Paul VI writes that the Church "is linked to evange-lization in her most intimate being" (EN, 15); mission is not "an optional contribution for the Church" (EN, 5). In addition, the Church's missionary identity is not a late afterthought of the risen Jesus--though this outlook may seem true today of some Christians and local churches. Animation and rededication are necessary because Christians "are faithful to the nature of the Church to the degree that we love and sincerely promote her missionary activity" (EE, 2). These few paragraphs may invite the comment "I have heard it all before." True, yet all of us often hear without hearing, see without seeing, and listen without comprehending. It is precisely at this juncture that conscious-ness is poignantly relevant. Many Christians do not deny the missionary nature of the Church, but their level of conscious awareness is weak or mini-mal. This fact is unfortunately true even of many full-time Church personnel. The intention here is not to berate or castigate individuals. Rather, it is a stark statement of the need for "consciousness-raising"; it is a call for Christians to expand and deepen their awareness; all urgently need "conscientization-into-mission." In short, the entire Church herself must experience a profound reevangelization in order to become a truly evangelizing community. Recall the themes presented earlier on the centrality of consciousness in Christian life and spirituality. They seem particularly relevant as the Church struggles with her fundamental missionary identity. Is not this a central burn-ing question in the Church today: What has happened to her mission con- 522 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 sciousness--where is its urgency and dynamism--where are the contempo-rary St. Pauls? A rephrasing in mission terms of earlier quotes on consciousness from Amalorpavadass may prove enlightening. Church-as-mission is "the running thread and unifying force"; it "needs to flow like a river, like a blood-stream"; it is at "the core of spirituality and God-experience"; ira"will make our whole life a continuous prayer and state of contemplation." Trinitarian Basis of Mission Consciousness and Spirituality In the same breath that the Vatican Council spoke of the Church's mis-sionary identity, it presented the foundational rationale of mission. In a word, the why of Church-as-mission is Trinitarian, "for it is from the mission of the Son and the mission of the Holy Spirit that she takes her origin, in accordance with the decree of God the Father" (AG, 2). This mission vision, expressed in Trinitarian language, must not frighten or intimidate readers. Do not say, "I do not understand Trinitarian theology, so I cannot grasp this." While a bit difficult and challenging, this insight is also beautiful and rewarding. It transports us to the heart of mission; it flows from the core of our faith in the Trinity; it greatly enhances our mission con-sciousness and spirituality. The most inviting manner to appreciate mission--via the Trinity--is to remember that it is an eminently personal approach. The Father is a person, his son Jesus is a person, their girl of the Spirit is also a person. This is only a statement of a basic dogma of the faith. Grasping the immanence and closeness of the three Persons appears far more fruitful than grappling with the incomprehensibility of the transcendent Trinity (Billy, 602-611). Growth in conscious awareness, experience, and encounter with each of the three Persons richly broadens our vision of mission. It also manifests that mission theology and spirituality draw from the same wellspring. An appre-ciation of the roles of the Father, the Son, and the Spirit in mission produces an integrated missiology, incorporating "Abba" theology, Christology, and pneumatology. The result will certainly be a more holistic theology and spir-ituality of mission. Finally, it is the conviction of this author that such an approach relieves some current tensions and answers some questions in mission. For example, debates centered on interreligious dialogue with the living faith traditions of the world can probably be better resolved more from a pneumatological approach than from only a Christological one. Therefore, if mission theology and spirituality are an integrated endeavor, the deepened consciousness will provide insights for both theoretical and practical questions. Apostolic Spirituality / 523 Our attention now tums to the roles of Father, Son, and Spirit in mis-sion. How does each person of the Trinity send and accompany us into mis-sion? Recall the title of this presentation, which links mission and spirituality with a consciousness of being sent. The Role of the Father The Father is presented in Scripture as the harvest master and vineyard owner. Mission, therefore, originates with the Father; mission is God's pro-ject. The Father determines its parameters. Already this awareness places the Church and her evangelizers in an auxiliary, servant role. Vatican II clearly set aside triumphalistic ecclesiology as well as any simplistic identification of the Church and the Kingdom of God. As servant of the kingdom or laborer in the vineyard, the Church is to be "the kingdom of Christ now present in mystery" and the "the initial budding forth of that kingdom" (LG, 3, 5). In addition, the Council, situating the Church within the larger framework of God's design of salvation (mysterion), entitled its first chapter of the Dogmatic Constitution on the Church "The Mystery of the Church." The Church and all missioners must radically see themselves serving the mysterion "according to the will of God the Father" (AG, 2). The Father desires generous cooperators and humble workers for the harvest. He freely chooses them and they are to belong to him (Lk 6:13; Mk 3:13-16; Jn 15:15-16). These passages remind evangelizers that all mission is a sending (missio/mittere), originating in the Father; their vocation is God's gratuitous gift. Missioners do not send themselves; mission cannot be defined in legal terms; all must be according to the Father's gracious design. Affirming mission, therefore, as a gratuitous gift in the Father's gracious vision, emphasizes the centrality of grace. Thus, missioners understand, as the country priest in Bernanos' novel says on his deathbed, in all vocations "Grace is everywhere" (Bernanos, 233). Trinitarian mission is always soteriological; its purpose is liberation and salvation. The Father has no other goal, as Paul clearly reminded Timothy: He "wants all to be saved and come to know the truth." Condemnation or rejection are inconsistent with the Father's design (Jn 3:16-17; Mt 18:14). The Father, overwhelmingly "rich in mercy" (Ep 2:4), extends his great love to everyone, as the universalism of both Luke and Paul make clear. All evangelizers have experienced "the kindness and love of God" (Tt 3:4); it is out of their deep consciousness of the Father's personal graciousness that they journey to all places, peoples, and cultures. They are aware that they have received all as girl, and they desire to give all with the same generosity (Mt 10:8). Any missioner would relish being described as "rich in mercy." 594 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 The Father cannot be surpassed in his kindness and generosity (Jm 1:5, 17); his mercy is made concrete and visible when he sends Jesus, his Son. This is definitely a new mode of God's presence with his people; it is love in personal form. This unfolding of the mysterion far surpasses previous mani-festations of Yahweh's presence to his people Israel (Heb 1:1-2). Missioners strive to be continuations of the love of God manifested personally in Jesus, and this approach brings transformation and deepened consciousness. Our discussion of the Father's role in mission carries us back to the heart of the Trinity: God is love (1 Jn 4:8), and all manifestations flow from this identity. No less than the inner life of the Trinity is founded on the dynamism of divine love. Thus, the mysterion necessarily is a loving design since it arises "from that 'fountain of love' or charity (fontalis amor) within God the Father" (AG, 2). It is imperative that missioners and evangelizers become mystics like John the Evangelist (see 1 Jn 4:7-21); nothing less can explain the love of God for a fallen world and rebellious humanity. No other motivation is ade-quate to the missionary calling--of the entire Church. Mother Teresa of Calcutta has named her congregation the Missionaries of Charity, and she never tires, of reminding her audiences that this is the fundamental vocation of all Christians. It sounds fantastic, but it is true: The love of the Trinity is personally poured into our hearts and it transforms all evangelizers into mis-sionary messengers of God's limitless love. Knowing our personal God as the font of love is the highest level of consciousness possible. Mission spiri-tuality becomes a conscious centering on Trinitarian love. This is the solid missiology-become-spirituality promoted by Vatican II. The Mission of the Son Jesus declares openly that he has been sent by his loving Father; the phrase "the Father who sent me" occurs forty-six times in the Gospel of John. And a salvific thrust is evident in the missioning of Jesus by his Father. Vatican II expresses Jesus' missioning as a reconciling presence "to establish peace or communion between sinful human beings and himself . Jesus Christ was sent into the world as a real mediator between God and men" (AG, 3). In Paul's theology, mediation and reconciliation are vital ele-ments of the mysterion (2 Co 5:19; Col 1:13; Rm 5:1)~ Jesus' continuing "Abba experience" (Kavunkal, 9-15), enabling him to faithfully accomplish his mission, has several dimensions: his coming or proceeding from the Father (noted above), his remaining with the Father (Jn 10:38; 16:32), and his eventual return to the Father (Jn 16:5; 7:33; 13:36). This means that Jesus fulfills his mission in light of a particular conscious- Apostolic Spirituality / 525 ness: continual intimacy with his Father. Luke tells us that, before making such a decisive move in his ministry as the choice of the Twelve, Jesus "went out to the mountains to pray, spending the night in communion with God" (Lk 6:12). Mission in the Jesus mode has its source, continuation, and fulfill-ment in the Abba experience. This dimension of Jesus' living of his mission provides evangelizers an inviting model for their own mission consciousness. In its holistic vision of God's design for salvation, the Council sees the Church as continuing, developing, and unfolding "the mission of Christ him-self" (AG, 5). The apostolic exhortation Evangelii Nuntiandi (13-16, 59-60) and the pastoral statement on world mission of the United States Bishops To the Ends of the Earth (25-27) also confirm mission as an ecclesial act in fidelity to Jesus. Contemporary evangelizers, cognizant of the Jesus-Church continuity, seek to live and witness as the community of Jesus' followers. They recall his promises (Mt 16:18; 28:20), but readily admit they are fragile "earthen vessels." They faithfully accept that "Christ in his mission from the Father is the fountain and source of the whole apostolate of the Church" (AA, 4). A missioner's model is "sentire cum ecclesia'" (feel and think with the Church), frankly admitting that one is "simuljustus et peccator" (concomi-tantly both upright and sinful). Who among Jesus' followers does not need a deeper consciousness of these realities? Central to the mission of Jesus is the mystery of the Incarnation: "The Son of God walked the ways of a true incarnation that he might make men sharers in the divine nature" (AG, 3). This radical identification of our broth-er Jesus with us mortals (Heb 4:15) makes us rich out of his poverty (2 Co 8:9). He became a servant (Mk 10:45) and gave his life "as a ransom for the many--that is, for all" (AG, 3). Consistently, Church Fathers .of both East and West have held that "what was not taken up [assumed] by Christ was not healed" (Abbott, 587, note 9). Thus, when Jesus took to himself our entire humanity, he healed, renewed, and saved us. In brief, incarnation is the fundamental pattern of all mission. Today evangelizers are deeply conscious of the ramifications of mission as incarnation. No missioner worthy of the name underestimates the impor-tance of indigenization and inculturation; they develop a spirituality of "depth identification," becoming as vulnerable as Jesus was in his humanity. This same pattern is the model of growth and development of all local churches (AG, 22). While it is certain that the mission of Jesus is initiated at the Incarnation, his baptism by John in the Jordan is an act of public commitment and conse-cration to mission. Jesus pursues his ministry; though it will encounter grow- 526 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 ing opposition and lead to the human disaster of Calvary, he will not betray his commitment. Note that Matthew, Mark, and Luke all juxtapose Jesus' baptism and the triple temptation in the wilderness. The tactic of Satan is to subvert Jesus with possessions, pride, and power; at the core, all Satan's promises tempt Jesus to renege on his dedication to mission. The more conscious an evange-lizer becomes of the struggle involved in mission faithfulness, the closer he will be drawn to Jesus. "who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin." The missioner will constantly and with confidence "approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and favor and to find help in time of need" (Heb 4:15-16). Instructive for the Church and her evangelizers is an appreciation of the continual action of the Spirit in the life of Jesus. The creed affirms that he was conceived "by the power of the Holy Spirit." The same Spirit descends on Jesus at the moment of his baptism (Mt 3:17); he is led by the Spirit to the desert (Mt 4:1); he returns to Galilee in the power of the Spirit (Lk 4:14); he begins his preaching mission at Nazareth asserting that "the Spirit of the Lord is upon me" (Lk 4:18). As Jesus was empowered by the Spirit, he sends forth his own disciples saying: "Receive the Holy Spirit" (Jn 20:22). Peter (Ac 4:8), Paul (Ac 9:17), Stephen (Ac 6:5; 7:55), and those who listened to their preaching (Ac 10:44) were all filled with the Spirit. In fact, the entire nascent Church brims with the Spirit's presence (Ac 2:4), and thus the community increases while it enjoys the consolation of the befriending Spirit (Ac 9:31). Jesus, his disci-ples, and likew.ise today's evangelizers all are in mission through the mar-velous action of the Spirit (Kroeger-A, 3- 12). Concretely in the practical order, Jesus carries out his mission through evangelization--proclaimiog the GoodNews of the Kingdom. The first words that Mark places on Jesus' lips are centered on this very theme (Mk 1"15). Luke also portrays Jesus' mission as focused on glad tidings to the "little ones of this world" (Lk 4:18-19). As Paul VI has noted, this theme "sums up the whole mission of Jesus" (EN, 6). Jesus could not be impeded in his ministry: "I must announce the good news of the reign of God, because that is why I was sent" (Lk 4:43). Contemporary evangelizers, reflecting on the urgency and scope of Jesus' kingdom proclamation, will find themselves imitating Jesus' ministry as he lived it in silence, in action, in dialogue, in teaching, and in prayer. Yes, the Good News of the Kingdom for Jesus means an integral, holistic approach to evangelization--because all dimensions of the total gospel are expressions of his enduring love (Jn 13:1). Apostolic Spirituality / 527 Jesus' entire life, from the Incarnation to the Ascension, was a procla-mation. All he said and did were a testimony to the Father's loving design (Jn 3:31-35; 7:16; 8:38; 14:24). Jesus existed on nothing else; his "suste-nance/ food/meat" was to do the will and work of the one who sent him (Jn 4:34). In everything Jesus was faithful to the Father. Reflective, insightful evangelizers interiorize the fidelity mind-set of Jesus (Ph 2:5); they also imitate St. Paul in his concern for faithful transmis-sion of the message of Jesus preserved by the Church (1 Co 15:3, 11). In prayer and meditation missioners refocus themselves on Jesus and his king-dom, and often this demands setting aside personal opinions and ambitions. Mother Teresa of Calcutta notes that Jesus does not always call us to be suc-cessful, but he always invites us to be faithful. This fidelity to Jesus and his message should not be interpreted in too narrow a sense. As announcers of Good News, we consciously interiorize Jesus' gospel values; however, we seek to transmit them to humanity in all its cultural, social, religious, and politico-economic diversity. Certainly, this is a fantastic challenge; it is central to contemporary evangelization. Paul VI expressed it wisely and poignantly: "This fidelity both to a message whose servants we are and to the people to whom we must transmit it living and intact is central axis of evangelization" (EN, 4). Lifestyle is key in any vision of evangelization. For our contemporaries, who willingly listen only to witnesses (not theoreticians), the missioner's authenticity and transparency are generally the first elements in evangeliza-tion; wordless witness is already a silent, powerful, and effective proclama-tion. It is an initial act of evangelization (EN, 21, 41). Jesus himself adopted a particular, concrete lifestyle. His mind-set was fidelity and obedience to his Father; his outward manner manifested the lived values of poverty, total dedication, persecution, apparent failure. The Church and her evangelizers "must walk the same road which Christ walked, a road of poverty and obedience, of service and self-sacrifice to the death" (AG, 5). Bluntly, there is no authentic Christian mission without the cross and all its surprises, foolishness, and scandal (1 Co 1:18-25). True mission is always signed by the cross, and without it we cannot be Jesus' disciples. The evan-gelizer is always generous in bearing a personal share of the hardships which the gospel entails (2 Tm 1:8). Constantly the Christian disciple is measuring his life and apostolate against the lifestyle of Jesus and the patterns of the gospel. Sustained prayerful reflection and an ever deepening consciousness of one's personal relationship with the Trinity are the unique way of interior-izing the paradox of the cross and the power of the resurrection. 528 / Review for Religious, July-August 1991 An anonymous poet, speaking of the centrality of the Incarnation and Redemption in Christianity, noted that there are no definitions in God's dic-tionary for these terms. One must search for the meaning of Bethlehem and Calvary under another category. Their significance is to be found only when one reads how God defines love. Indeed, God's loving plan of salvation is a message of hope for all peo-ples. It is universal and should be preached and witnessed "to the ends of the earth." To spread this universal message demands great dedication and faith, as seen in the practical advice that Paul gave to Timothy (2 Tm 4:1-5). The evangelizer, conscious of his role in the actualization of the mysteri-on, will surrender enthusiastically to the invitation of Jesus: Come and fol-low me in my mission. This conscious surrender will open his eyes to perceive, not so much what his efforts are accomplishing, but how Father, Son, and Spirit are working fruitfully in and through his life. With this vision, contemplation and actibn harmoniously blend and sustain one anoth-er; the evangelizer experiences living the mysterion. Eventually, all will be recapitulated in Christ and God will be

Issue 45.5 of the Review for Religious, September/October 1986. ; REVIEW FOR REI.IGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published every two months, is edited in collaboration with the faculty members of the Department of Theological Studies of St. Louis University. The editorial offices ave located at Room 428:3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. REvIEw FOR REIolGIOUS is owned by the Missouri Province Educational Institute of the Society of Jesus, St. Louis, MO. © 1986 by REVIEW FOR REt,IGIOUS. Composed, printed and manufactured in U.S.A. Second class postage paid at St. Louis, MO. Single copies: $2.50. Subscription U.S.A. $ I 1.00 a year: $20.00 for two years. Other countries: add $4.00 per year (postage). Airmail (Book Rate) $18.00 per year. For subscription orders or change of address, write i~vlr~w FOR I~LtG~OUS: EO. Box 6070; Duluth, MN 55806. Daniel E X. Meenan, S.J. Dolores Greeley, R.S.M. Iris Ann Ledden, S.S.N.D. Richard A. Hill, S.J. Jean Read Editor Associate Editor Review Editor Contributing Editor Assistant Editor Sept. / Oct., 1986 Volume 45 Number 5 Manuscripts, books for review and correspondence with the editor should be sent to I~v~Ew FOn REt,tG,OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell Blvd., St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. Correspondence about the department "Canonical Counsel" should be addressed to Richard A. Hill, S.J.; J.S.T.B.; 1735 LeRoy Ave.; Berkeley, CA 94709. Back issues and reprints should be ordered from REVIEW ~Oa REL~C~OUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell . Blvd.; St. Louis, MO 63108-3393. "Out of print" issues and articles not published as reprints are available from University Microfilms International; 300 N. Zeeb Rd.; Ann Arbor, M! 48106. A major portion of each issue is also available on cassette recordings as a service for the visually impaired. Write to the Xavier Society for the Blind; 154 East 23rd Street; New York, NY 10010. Dominican Mission and Apostolic Common Life Mary A nn Fatula, O.P. Sister Mary Ann is the Chairperson of the Theology Department of Ohio Dominican College (1216 Sunbury Road; Columbus, OH 43219). Her last article, "Trusting in the Providence of God," appeared in the issue of January/February, 1986. In company with other religious orders, we Dominicans have placed a great amount of energy into reclaiming our mission of apostolic preaching in the Church. Yet even as we have become increasingly competent and profes-sional in our ministries, more than a few of us have sensed that something is radically missing from our reappropriation and that our mission requires far more of us than the total dedication of our energies to ministry. If we are honest, we must admit to a growing pain which we too easily push aside because we fear the cost of facing its implications. We find our ministries consuming us, sapping our energies and perhaps making very little real or lasting impact on others in spite of our hectic lives. At the same time, we see that the women and men drawn to Dominican life do not come to us for the sole sake of ministry. In many cases they already have been successful in a ministry and are looking for a committed community which will nourish their prayer and service in the Church. Yet we know in our hearts that precisely what these young people desire and have aright to expect from us we seem unable to offer them. In addition, our study of Dominic shows us that his vision entailed not simply a task to be accomplished but the far more comprehensive and demanding reality of a life to he lived. As we catch glimpses of these truths, we are beginning to suspect that our desire for "something more" in our life together expresses 641 642 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 the Spirit's own cry within us for the very life to which this same Spirit has called us: a life of preaching as the apostles did, out of a rich communion not only with the Lord but also with one another. The Relation Between Dominican Mission and Apostolic Common Life Many of us may not have reflected on the importance of community when we entered religious life, and yet we probably experienced its value, at some level at least, simply because we could not escape its structure. Today, however, we often have local settings in which hardly a semblance of com-munity life exists. On weekends no one is around; on weekdays it is difficult, if not impossible, to find one evening during a given month when even a small community is present in its totality at a supper meal. In many instances, not much binds us together except the TV set. We know by experience that simply promulgating laws does not make us choose something, no matter how valuable it is. We make free commit-ments because we have experienced the beauty of the reality held out to us, or because our hearts and minds reach out to claim a value when its beauty becomes apparent to us. Perhaps we do not experience the beauty of common life today--quite the opposite. But a deepened understanding of what common life can and must be for us could inspire us to consciously claim it anew. Far from providing "icing on the cake" to pep up our mission, so to speak, apostolic common life is literally a matter of life and death for us: if we do not reclaim it, we will perish. The interior communion and interdependence at the heart of Dominic's vision is something no structure or law can deliver to us; no outside force will hold us responsible for living it unless we ourselves do. Dominican apostolic common life, and thus the Dominican mission, will survive only if living men and women freely choose to devote their energy to living it. As M.H. Vicaire points out, Dominic renewed the apostolic life in its fullness precisely because he founded the outer element of missio upon the inne~ element of communio. The mission of itinerant preaching of God's word, the very ministry that founds the Church, was to flow from the rich interior life the Dominicans lived through prayer, the evangelical counsels, community and study. Far more than the task of merely verbal or written preaching, Dominic's mission entailed living the Word we preach with our mouths and pens, preaching in fact with our very lives. "I have come to cast fire on the earth" (Lk 12:49). We know the differ-ence between the preaching of mere words, and the kind which enlightens and sets fire to us: "Were not our hearts burning within us as he spoke to us on the way" (Lk 42:32). Dominican preaching is meant to be both light (or the mind and warmth for the heart because that preaching Dominican Mission / 643 comes from fire in the heart. This constitutes the Dominican mission in the Church, inseparably Word and Spirit, truth and love, light and fire--the fire of loving communion lived and put into words. The Spirit of communion anointed Jesus himself in the word he proclaimed (Lk 4:18); gathering a community around him, he preached not as an isolated individual but united to his Father and also to the twelve: "Let usgo to the next towns that we may preach there also, for this is why I came out" (Mk 1:39). When Jesus sends the apostles to preach, he sends them not one by one, but two by two (Mk 6:7). A witness at Dominic's canonization process in Bologna testified, "his words were so moving that most of the time he himself and his listeners were stirred to tears." We ourselves weep when something in a speaker's heart sets fire to our own hearts. Dominic wept when he preached because he spoke of what he loved and lived in his communion with the living God and with brothers and sisters. Jordan of Saxony writes of him that his "fre-quent and special prayer to God was for the gift of true charity." In a marve-lously creative synthesis Dominic combined the itinerant preaching of the apostles with the communio of the early Church. Preaching formed the purpose of the Dominicans' prayer, study, and community; but even more, the apostolic life they lived together, the reality of their love and communion with one another in the Lord, constituted the loudest and clearest word they preached. "Living Together," Community Life, and Common Life We have learned to distinguish between mission and ministry; our mission of preaching entails living the apostolic life in its fullness, preaching what we live, while our ministries express that mission in concrete and diverse ways. In a similar manner, we can distinguish between simply living together, community living and common life. Most of us perhaps know the first reality, "living under the same roof." Like ships in the night we greet each other but have no real connection to or interaction'with one another. Some of us may know, too, the deeper reality of community life, concrete sharing of goals, interests, work, prayer, responsibilities. But the words "common life" in fact translate the Latin word communio denoting an interior reality, a union of hearts and minds which only the Spirit can effect. Certainly this communion must be expressed in concrete forms, yet its reality is far more deep and inclusive than what "living together" or even "community life" denotes. We can share many things in community and still not share the deepest reality for which we are called together, the Lord whose love makes us one. The Hebrew and Christian Scriptures which, inspired Dominic's vision 644 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 portray preachers as people joined together to receive and to proclaim the Word expressing the very life they live in communion with others. Recalling how communities gathered around the Hebrew prophets, the author of John 17 places on the lips of Jesus the following prayer: May they "be one, as you, Father, in me, and I in you." May they all "be one in us, that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have made known to them your name and I will make it known, that the love with which you have loved me may be in them, and I in them." These words hint at the truth that no mere human effort can bring about communio. We have already tried human plans, projects, laws and programs, and we still find that we cannot achieve by our own efforts alone the kind of communion to which we are called as Dominicans. Only the Spirit gives life, and only the Spirit can offer us the power to live the kind of communion to which our vocation calls us, a human sacrament of the unspeakable com-munion at the heart of the triune God. When we ourselves love, we find that the closer we come to another, the more the union causes a bitter-sweet pain precisely because we cannot achieve the kind of oneness we desire. Because we cannot literally have one mind and heart with another; there remains always that final place in us which no one else can know or enter. But the Father, Son and Spirit live literally one life; in their communion no hint of division or separation exists. Our call to communio, to the common life, invites and urges us to be in some way a sacrament of this trinitarian communion. The Acts of the Apostles describes this reality among the early Christians: "The company of believers were of one heart and one soul in the Lord . . . they had all in common" (Ac 4:32). Here common life signifies not simply the sharing of material goods but ultimately the interior bond which makes them of one mind and heart in the Lord. Precisely because of this communion, the early disciples share everything in a "common life." This apostolic communio described in Acts 4:32 clearly inspired Dominic's own vision. The Rule of Augustine which he adopted for his Order opens with the proclamation that those gathered together have been called by the Lord precisely to live with one heart and mind in the Lord. And the primitive Constitution of his Order begins with this prologue: "Because a precept of our Rule commands us to have one heart and one mind in the Lord, it is fitting that., the uniformity maintained in our external conduct may foster and indicate the unity which should be present interiorly in our hearts. "" The earliest constitution of Dominic's Order thus identifies preaching not as a mere speaking of words, but as the expression of unity in the Lord which even in their diversity binds the members together in the apostolic common life. Dominican Mission / 645 The Basic Constitution adopted at River Forest in 1968 emphasizes this theme anew. The first three paragraphs speak of the mission of proclaiming God's Word, but the fourth paragraph makes clear the very heart of this mission: "Because we share the mission of the apostles, we follow their way of life as Dominic conceived it. With one soul we live in community." This distinction between the interior communion and the concrete expression of it in community life has important implications. Those who for serious reasons are unable to live in Dominican community may yet be truly living in the communion that binds us together with one heart and soul in God. Communio does have to be lived out in concrete ways, and community life is one of them, but Dominican communio is lived out also through study, prayer and ministry that flow from our interior union with our brothers and sisters in Dominic's family. We are called to foster one heart and soul in the Lord--a mystery far more deep and demanding than simply living under one roof. The Holy Spirit at the Heart of Dominican Apostolic Communion We address Dominic as "Preacher of grace" precisely because his procla- ¯ marion came not only from grace, from the Spirit's fire, but also spoke about grace, the supremacy of God's mercy and power in our lives. The Dominican mission calls us to preach from the fullness of our own experience of this mercy, our own realization that finally God's work and not our own will save us. In our attempts to renew and to live this communion among us, we are thus brought to our knees; the word of grace we are called to preach to others becomes only a "noisy gong and clanging cymbal" (1 Cot 13:1) unless it is also the word of grace we ourselves live together. In writing of love, Aquinas stresses how the activities of knowing and loving expand and enlarge us by uniting us to reality beyond ourselves. The process of becoming mature adults entails the ability to extend ourselves outside of our own limited being to others around us. Knowledge takes reality into us, so to speak, but in also lov!ng what we know we reach out in an "ecstatic" movement outward toward what we love (ST I, 16, 1). In love, we put others in place of ourselves and regard their good truly as if it were our own. The ecstatic nature of love's union in this way truly enlarges our being, increasingly actualizing us as human persons. Thomas distinguishes, however, between self-gratifying love and the love of friend-ship. In self-gratifying love, although we seem to be drawn out of ourselves to good outside us, the movement of love remains within us and focused on ourselves; we desire the good of others not for their sake but for our own (ST I, 28, 3). The love of friendship, in contrast, loves others as equals and directs 646 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 our affection outside of us to their reality precisely as other. True union thus happens only when we reach out of ourselves in an unselfish move-ment of love toward others' own uniqueness. Yet as experience itself teaches us, our own efforts alone cannot effect this kind of love. Precisely for this reason, "the love of God has been poured into our hearts by the Holy Spirit who has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Most of our communities have engaged in some program of helping us to appreciate and to tap our own resources, especially the gift of one another. But the gift we have left most untapped is the very person of the Spirit. Aquinas notes that the Spirit's name as Gift denotes gratuitous, unreturnable bestowal, with no expectation of return. And because a gift is presented to us only so that it may belong to us, the Spirit given to us is truly ours, our possession, our gift, our Spirit (ST I, 38, 1). Dominican women especially are called upon to renew this awareness of and reliance upon the Spirit's power in our life and ministry together. If we would claim our affinity for the Spirit's tender mercy and strength within and among us, we could become ourselves a new gift in and for the Dominican family, a living gift of women who live and speak the anointed word. For the word we have preached as Dominicans too often has not conveyed or come from the Spirit's anointing. This seems to me a special contribution which Dominican women can make to the Order today: to live and to proclaim the word of truth warmed with the fire. of life. Aquinas stresses that the Word cannot be divorced from the Holy Spirit: because the Son eternally breathes forth the very love between him and the Father, the living person of the Spirit, the Word is always Verbum spirans amorem-- the Word breathing forth love (ST I, 43, 5, ad 2). Only when we internalize this truth will we live out our call to be preachers not simply of the Word but of the anointed Word. Our mission to preach the Word by its very nature thus demands our increasing submission to the Spirit of God in whom we are to find the motiva-tion and power for our life together. "Ask, and it will be given you . . . if you who are evil know how.to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Fath.er give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him" (Lk 11:9, 13). We need to call down upon our life together the Spirit who alone can effect the interior communio at the heart of our preach-ing mission. As Aquinas stresses, the charity at the heart of our union is a created participation in the very person of the Spirit (ST II-II, 24, 2). This is a profound and radical insight, it seems to me: the bond of love we share is in some sense nothing less than the very reality of the Spirit, the divine person of love. As a participation in this Spirit, charity heals and enlivens our capacity to love one another truly as other. Again as Aquinas Dominican Mission / ~147 comments, charity of all the virtues has the strongest inclination to its act, for it reaches out to live in a spontaneous movement of pleasure and delight (ST II-II, 24, 5, ad 3; II-II, 23, 2). Since the Spirit's own person dwells in us by charity, making his power of love in some sense our very own, charity is specifically the same act whereby we love God and also one another. The movement of selfless love that binds us to each other thus of its very nature binds us also to God (ST II, 25, 1). The interior communion at the heart of our preaching mission calls us to reach out to one another's joys and sorrows, but we know how difficult it is to do this. We may be physically in the same room, apparently speaking and listening to one another, and yet we know in our hearts how often we are not present to one another's concerns. This kind of communion can happen only when the Spirit opens us to one another. As William Hill points out, the Spirit--and not just some effect of the Spirit's activity--is the very bond in some way uniting us in apostolic communion.' Perhaps we have had tastes of this communion at a time when we were bound together in a community sorrow or joy or at a time of deep prayer and celebration. We may have experienced this interior bond when the group was lost in silence and we had an intimation that our common life is not simply words we say or tasks we do for another. As Hill notes, when the Spirit "lays fast hold of us, we begin to live from a personal center that is our own self.''2 This last insight suggests that Dominican apostolic common life is possible only at the price of a profound continuing conversion on the part of each of us. W~ are called to live not from a center of narrow interest and self-concern, but from the abundant love of the Spirit who enlarges our hearts by making room in them for the truth of one another, In the depths of our being, the Spirit "lures us to the self-transcendence" of interdependence in the midst of our diversity: "The proper domain of the Spirit is not life in isolation, but in communion.''3 Neither Jesus nor Dominic sent our people one by one to convert the world, to be individual leavens in many places. This is a valid call, but it is not ours as Dominicans. If we are to live our charism in the Church, our preach-ing must express the fire of love that we live first of all in communion with one another. Individual men and women may have 1o minister alone in special cases, but their ministry also is called to give voice to the communion at the heart of the Dominican mission. If we are truly to live what we preach and preach what we live, the word we proclaim as Dominicans must express the apostolic communion we live with one another. The apostles' own preaching had such power because it overflowed with the Spirit's love lived in communion with one another, Because the Spirit inflames and anoints our preaching only to the extent that this same Spirit 648 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 binds us in love in one another, we will rediscover what it means to be fire in the Church, as Dominic was, only when we rediscover the absolute central-ity of apostolic communion. In many instances we still do not preach and minister out of the abundant communio we live with one another. And to the extent that we do not, we are insipid in the Church, a "noisy gong" and a "clanging cymbal" (1 Cor 13:1). Each of us is called to beg the Spirit's grace in our individual life and in our life together that our preaching would in fact give voice to the communioh we live with one another. Renewing Common Life Through Renewing the Four Elements of Dominican Life Because the Spirit's grace entails the mystery of both God's activity in us and also our free human cooperation, perhaps our most significant task in deepening our communion is to give renewed attention to each of the four elements which comprise Dominican apostolic life. And for both Dominican women and men, it may well be not simply a question of reclaim-ing but also of claiming these elements as our own in a way we have never done before. With regard to the first of the elements, prayer, we realize that our preach-ing is meant to flow from the abundance of our contemplation: "'contemplata aliis tradere. "" Yet too often we find ourselves saying, "My work is my prayer; the demands of my ministry prevent me from devoting explicit time to prayer." But as Vincent de Couesnongle, former master general of the Order, commented in an address at Providence in 1982, "People quickly distinguish the preachers who speak of the Friend with whom they constantly live, from the preachers who speak of him as of a stranger and try to pass him off as a companion with whom they are on familiar terms. The first know how to speak about God, because they are in the habit of speaking to God." People are thirsting to find in us women and men of God, and they recognize our pretense when we do not pray. And because this is so, what we most owe others in our ministry is precisely what we do with our time when we are not with them. Experience itself teaches us the paradox of grace: that God accomplishes wonderful things through us when we do not devote one hundred percent of our time to ministry, when we devote ourselves also to adoration before the living God in prayer. Many of us are perfectionists who think that our time must be consumed by projects to make our ministry more effective. Without belittling these efforts, more than a few of us are discovering that redirecting some of our " energy from compulsive busy-ness to time in prayer and fostering contempla-tive peace in our lives effect far more profound results than our efforts alone could have accomplished. What we do with our time when our people do Dominican Mission / 649 not see us often bears the deepest gifts for them when they do see us. We owe the people to and with whom we minister a consecration of our time to prayer so that they will find in us living evidence that God's presence and mercy fill the world. With regard to the second element of Dominican life, we are beginning to suspect the radical nature of our call to study. Dominic identifies as the crucial element at the heart of his Order the sacred study which opens us to contemplation and preaching. And is this not what we most lack in our lives today? Again, in his 1982 Providence address, de Couesnongle stresses, "It is a systematic, deepened and persevering study that we need to under-take . If this is not the case, then spiritual suffocation awaits us. The experience of each one of us shows this sufficiently." De Couesnongle com-ments that he stopped congratulating members of the Order for working so hard precisely because "people are overworked., they believe that one has to work like this. And thus, an unbalanced life results" whose equilibrium can be regained only by "stressing more a basic study that is at once serious and prayerful." Without prayer and study, we do no real preaching. We women especially must claim as never before our call to profound study; if we think we have no time for this because of our ministry's demands, we fool ourselves. No one will force us to study; this is a priority choice we ourselves must make. We come now to the third element that fosters communio, our com-munity life. In 1980, de Couesnongle noted in his report to the General Chapter meeting at Walberberg that he too easily believed the common life could be renewed simply by insisting on meetings and rules, as if these would automatically bring results. He came to see that true community life flourishes only to the extent that each person freely chooses to commit herself or himself to a real interest in the community members and to sharing what makes up his or her own life. "The newspaper and TV . . . will simply not suffice to excite and nourish an authentic community life. How many of us know how to share with outsiders what is best about ourselves, but become soeechless with our sisters and brothers?" We need to become, as never before, women~and men of the Word shared with one another, choosing to live what Dominic asked of us by speaking to and about God with one another. Is this not what we so little do? Because very few structures foster our communio, community life will cease to exist unless we freely choose it. We easily blame those in authority for the erosion of our life together when in fact we ourselves are responsible for its life or death. If our communities die, each one of us is responsible. We must begin to speak the Word to one another, to pray together, to speak to one another of deeper matters than simply the weather. 650 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Because mission is our purpose, our community life and sharing of the Word with one another cannot be a matter of adding more time requirements to our already busy day; our commitment to one another must be in terms of quality rather than quantity time. Even if we are fortunate enough to experience a measure of community life, it is often not communio, our shared faith in the living God, that binds us together. But by taking advantage of the opportunities we already have for quality time together, we can take the risk of improving the level of conversation at table and of sharing the Word at our prayer and house meetings. And instead of harboring anger and resentment, we can begin to speak the truth in love to one another, for even honest fights do far more to foster communio than polite silence. Candidates to our communities who may have tremendous gifts for preaching and prayer and yet do not value the commitment to communio show by this very fact that whatever call they do have, it is not to Dominican life. And we who have already consecrated ourselves to this life must con-sciously choose today what perhaps we have never really chosen before, a true commitment to the community life that fosters the communio at the heart of our Dominican mission. De Couesnongle noted in his 1982 Provi-dence talk that as we have abandoned structures, individualism and non-par-ticipation have grown, and these are the "enemy number-one of community life." "Community life demands interpersonal relationships. Are we not too easily secretive. Do we not spontaneously hide what we are?. We bottle ourselves up and dodge compromising questions." He also notes the radical nature of our present call to community, precisely because so much today militates against a true union among us. We have become as secula-rized as the world, as filled, perhaps, with a selfish individualism that makes it increasingly difficult for us to reach out of ourselves to one another. Just as we ourselves must ratify our own baptismal vows, we Domini-cans are called to make a personal choice to live in fact what we say we are living. We can no longer escape facing ourselves with the question: "Why am I here? If I want to preach as a Dominican, my preaching must come from a true communio I myself concretely live." Unless each of us squarely faces this question and lives out its implications, we will surely die as com-munities, because we will fail to live our charism in the Church. Since the Dominican tradition has always treasured the richness of plural-ity, there are and will be diverse ways of living our call to communio. Our being bound together with one heart and mind in the Lord will express itself in different ways according to the character of each local community. And if for some serious reason a Dominican must live alone, he or she can still live out the Dominican call to communio-missio by fostering in whatever ways possible a true communion, a oneness of mind and heart with the Dominican Mission / 651 brothers and sisters. As our congregations decrease in numbers, we will be forced to cooperate with one another in the kind of collaboration that the Dominican family asks of us. Increasingly we are called to minister together, to provide options for living in communities of other Dominican congrega-tions in order to preach and minister from a communio concretely lived. And we need to actively work toward these new kinds of configurations. We consider finally the relation between communio and ministry. We Dominican women especially are growing to realize that our mission is not simply ed.ucation but Dominic's mission, the preaching of God's Word through our varied ministries. Each of us needs to take personal responsi-bility for the extent to which her ministry concretely expresses this mission and to ask ourselves how we can best focus our varied gifts in the service of proclaiming the Word. Perhaps more than a few of us are called to re-examine whether the ministry to which we are devoting our energies is the one to which God is calling us now, the ministry which best utilizes our gifts for the mission of proclaiming the Word. We need also to ask ourselves whether we have allowed our ministries to consume and master us, rather than to free us in joyful service. When we fail to live the Dominican call in all of its elements, when we cheat other dimensions of our life to devote all of our energy to ministry, we find our-selves in an inevitable burnout, ministering not out of the abundance of our communion with God and with one another, but out of our own emptiness. Not every possible ministry is meant for us as Dominicans. If we are not ministering from the fullness of a contemplative peace and in a way that fosters this peace in others, we need to face the hard question of why this is so. If all that we bring to the world as Dominicans is more busy-ness, more hectic activity, we have nothing to contribute. What others need from us is not more unpeacefulness but the witness of men and women who minister from the depths of contemplative peace. This is one of the chief ways we are called as Domincans to be counte~:-cultural. When our ministry no longer fosters this peace within and around us, when it drains us end-lessly and yields nothing but unpeace, we need to take a second look at whether God is not calling us to another ministry more at the heart of our mission to proclaim the Word. De Couesnongle points out in his 1982 Providence address: "Work is not prayer., in saying we lack time we find an easy excuse. Do we have the right to present ourselves as religious whose word proceeds from the abundance of contemplation? Time is needed, if we are to pray. Let us find this time and give it to God . . . This is my dream for the Order: contemplation and preaching., preaching ex abundantia contempla- 652 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 tionis. "' This is also Dominic's dream for us. But a dream becomes reality only when we ask it as a gift from God and then with all of our hearts make a conscious choice to commit ourselves to its realization., together. In his 1970 commentary on the Fundamental Constitution, Vicaire stresses that our one profession, our one vow, integrates us "'into the communion, and it is the communion which has the mission. "" Our vow consecrates us not only to God but also to one another, for it consecrates us to be a "reli-gious community of life vowed to preaching." Our Dominican life itself "is an apostolic mission in the Church" that springs from the communion we live with one another. Vicaire continues: we are not "just a team engaged in a common task." We are "a community of life, centered essentially in faith's response to the Gospel and in the seeking for God together." Our call to the common life is the heart of our specific mission in the Church, for our preaching as Dominicans is meant to flow from our communion with God and with one another, the communion that makes us in truth of one heart and mind in the Lord. "This requires that we be a true community. We are in it for better or for worse, as in the conjugal community, until death." We need to take seriously this "conjugal" relationship not only with the Lord but also with one another, for as married people can and do tell us, real communion happens only at the cost of personal time and energy and commitment. Our Dominican mission will again bring fire to the Church and world only to the extent that it springs from and expresses the communio we live with one another. As ! write these words, 1 am conscious of how little I live them. But I also know that to run from the truth is to sell our very soul. May the words de Couesnongle spoke in Providence in 1982 about the common life as the indispensable well-spring of our preaching mission in the Church continue to knock at the door of our minds and hearts: "Each of us must feel herself or himself responsible for this. We have to pay out of our own person . Alone and in community, let us have the courage to confront this problem and then, 'Do what he tells you.' " NOTES ~William J. Hill, O.P., The Three-Personed God (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 1982), p. 303. 21bid, p. 288. 3lbid, p. 307. Active and Monastic: Two Apostolic Lifestyles George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenner is well known to our readers especially for the series of yearly surveys in spirituality he authored from 1980 through 1985. For the past year he has been Director of the Spiritual Formation Program at the North American College in Rome, where he may be addressed (00120 Vatican City State). This article originally appeared in the USIG Bulletin (Rome: no. 70, 1986), and is reprinted with permission. The spirited beauty and gracefulness of Jesus Christ has inspired the minds and hearts of women and men for centuries. They have been stirred, at times, to feats of missionary heroism all over the world. At other times, they have found encouragement for quiet, hidden faithfulness to the daily duties of a very ordinary state in life. In all these different types of heroism the moti-vation is the same: an enthusiastic love of Jesus Christ. In some way, then, Christian spirituality is always one and the same. Its beginning and end, its motive and energy always focus on that one whose words still echo in hearts today: "I am the Way, the Truth and the Life" (Jn 14:6). But over the many years, this one, central essence of Christian spirituality has taken expression in many different forms, some of which, at times, have seemed almost irreconcilable. Whenever these different forms are misunderstood and their common rooting in one basic Christian spirituality is forgotten, then they can become competitive or even truly at loggerheads. The interrelationships of each form with the one fundamental Christian spirituality, and of the various forms among themselves, have not always been easy and clear. But as long as we are careful to maintain a lively familiar-ity with and a genuine belief in Jesus Christ as the root and foundation of 653 654 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Christian spirituality, we can speak of numerous Christian spiritualities. The following quotations are good examples of two very different dynamics within the one basic Christian spirituality: The Carthusian life rests upon a deep foundation of silence which you know and love, and it is in that depth that the Eternal Word is born for each one of us. There lies our whole vocation: to listen to Him who generates the Word and to live thereby. The Word proceeds from Silence, and we strive to find Him in His Source. This is because the Silence here in question is not a void nor a negation but, on the contrary, Being at its fullest and most fruitful plenitude. That is why it generates; and that is why we keep silent.~ Take down your lantern from its niche and go out! You may not rest in firelight certainties, Secure from drifting fog of doubt and fear. You may not build yourself confining walls And say: 'thus far, and thus, and thus far shall I walk, And these things shall I do, and nothing more.' Go out! For need calls loudly in the winding lanes And you must seek Christ there. Your pilgrim heart Shall urge you still one pace beyond. And love shall be your lantern flame.2 Though the dynamic of expression is different in these two instances, the core of the matter is the same: a heart afire with God's love in Jesus. But there will often be a very significant difference in the details of the daily living out of these two dynamics. And though the difference is never so profound asto destroy a common essence and a genuine bond, yet it is significant enough to prevent an easy identification of these two forms. My concern in this article is to describe and distinguish further these two different charisms or spiritualities, without endangering their basic rootedness in the tradition of Christian spirituality. Often in the past the Christian tra-dition has distinguished between monastic and apostolic spiritualities. I would like to suggest a further refinement of that distinction--a nuance that seems to me to be important and clarifying in these present times of struggle to understand the essence and expression of apostolic spirituality in religious life and throughout the Church. After some comments on the essence of all Christian spirituality as being apostolic, I will describe at some length what I will call two different apostolic lifestyles, charisms or spiritualities: the monastic and the active. Among the ancient world religions Christianity is unique in its strong Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 655 incarnational quality. In the Christian religion, at its center, is the claim that the Son of God became a full human being. Neither a deceptive illusion, nor a passing hallucinatory appearance, Jesus of Nazareth intimately, pre-cisely, awesomely gives flesh in our midst to the God who lives, beyond beginning or end, in unapproachable light and holiness. In Jesus, there can be no doubt that God is turned toward us forever in loving forgiveness and is ineluctably involved with and committed to our world evolving in time. In fact God is the decisive source and gentle sustainer of all being and crea-tion. And so we find in Jesus someone who enters our world confidently and profoundly, someone who lives and loves tenderly, courageously, thoroughly, and yet whose center of identity is never fully of this world. His God, addressed so intimately as Abba, "my dear Father," focuses his heart far beyond all of this world. On Calvary an apparently absurd and horrendous death can be desired, even chosen, precisely because his identity, though fully lived within this world, is not finally rooted here. And this identity is then fully revealed by God in the blessing of resurrection. The God of Christian religion always far transcends in being, beauty and life anything of this world. And so the Christian God is never fully identified with or by anything of the here and now, but, in Jesus, stands forever committed in loving forgiveness to all of us and to our created uni-verse. Fired by the same Spirit of God, all disciples of Jesus must learn to find an identity resonating in God far beyond this world while they live and love with a profound joy and hope that implicates them seriously within this world--but never so as to confine their identity to what they can see, taste and know here and now. And this balanced integration of the seriously incar-national with the transcendently eschatological has never been easy for any disciple of Jesus. There must never be any doubt of Christianity's healthy, creative and serious concern for this world. In the sense of a serious commitment to and involvement with our world, every disciple of Jesus must be intensely apostolic. Not to be apostolic, in this sense, is simply to betray Christian discipleship. For this reason, any facile distinction between apostolic spiritu-alities and monastic spiritualities may confuse, and may even deny the healthy, creative and serious concern--the apostolic concern--with this world that must be part of monastic spirituality. Nevertheless, as the central point of this article will make clear, there are two different ways of living out Christianity's serious, loving concern for this beautiful, anguished world. A central assertion of this article is that the essential apostolic orientation of Christian spirituality can be expressed in either a monastic or an active lifestyle. And these two quite different apostolic lifestyles are the result of God's Spirit at work in the hearts of men and women. This distinction, then, 656 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 is not something simply of human invention. Over centuries, as believers have struggled to be faithful to the Spirit of God inspiring their hearts, apostolic concern for our world expressed itself in a variety of ways. The evidence for our distinction here has resulted from God's love stirring human hearts down the ages. This distinction between the two dynamics of a monastic and an active relationship with the world cuts across the whole Church. It can name the experience of lay men and women as much as it can describe different types of religious congregations. And the Church has not always found it easy to acknowledge and respect these different apostolic charisms among women and men. Today, however, as a result of Vatican II, we are in a better position to recognize and cooperate with the different ways that grace stirs human hearts to express themselves and to be present.to God. To confuse or blur these two distinctive apostolic dynamics runs the danger of not respecting God's call in human hearts and of not cooperating properly in the formation of an appropriate apostolic Christian presence. The monastic and the active styles of Christian apostolate are not meant as hard and fast divisions. Rather, they express tendencies, movements of grace in our hearts. For many people and for many religious congregations, the challenge is to achieve the proper blend of these tendencies. We are speak-ing here, then, of a whole spectrum of development, from the highly monastic with little mixture of the active, right through to the highly active with a similarly small mixture of the monastic. It is like a long clothesline, and every individual and every group in the Church may be imagined as a clothespin that God attaches to some part of the line. As we consider these two different apostolic dynamics and tendencies of grace in the human heart, the issue centers on nothing less than identity-- either the identity of an individual or the corporate identity of a religious congregation. To avoid spiritual schizophrenia and identity confusion, no pins ought to be on the clothesline in the exact center. People who try to focus identity on this central point of the spectrum attempt the impossible balance of a life in apostolic faith of exactly equal monastic and active proportions. Religious congregations that referred in the past to themselves as semi-cloistered have been invited after Vatican II more carefully and decisively to interpret their identity with clear priority for either the monastic or the active style. The semi-cloistered balancing of exactly equal monastic and active dimensions is not possible. And such identity confusion, besides the damage done an individual or a religious congregation, also wreaks havoc in the ministry which, as the product of such identity confusion, must also be con-fused and weakly focused. Before moving now to a description of each of these two apostolic dynamics and lifestyles, two further comments are in order. First, no priority Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 657 of one style over the other is intended. The claim is that the monastic and the active are different and distinctive. There is no claim that they are superior, one to the other, in any way. Second, in describing each dynamic I will center on groups or on individuals who legitimately embody each tendency in a fullness and a clarity--with little qualification and nuance. When seen in such simple clarity and fullness, the dynamic in question can be better appreciated. But it should be understood that for many individuals and reli-gious congregations, the precise challenge is for them to qualify and nuance both dynamics so as to achieve an appropriate and identifying blend of each one.3 The Monastic Apostolic Dynamic I will describe six aspects of the monastic charism. These aspects are not disparate realities that stand on their own; rather they coalesce into a whole sensibility and way of life. As integrated and unified, they make up the monastic experience of God and the monastic vision of reality. These aspects are rooted in a distinctive dynamic at work in human hearts and comprise what, in the Church's long history, is usually called monastic spirituality. 1. Formal prayer is the primary determining influence. In the monastic apostolic lifestyle, the formal prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist, and any other private contemplation resulting from the liturgy, has a clear and decisive primacy in the development of the Whole way of life. These times of formal prayer are the first items placed in the daily schedule. They literally determine the schedule and the contour of the life. As regularly spread throughout the day, this experience of formal prayer clearly determines, not only the schedule, but the very structure of monastic spiritu-ality. The heart of the monastic person is primarily and thoroughly rapt in the contemplation of God. And simply everything reveals this primacy. 2. Order, routine, regularity and schedule are central. Because of the clear priority of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist, the monastic life reveals and requires a regularity of order and schedule. Often, only Sundays"and special feasts will vary the fundamental routine of monastic life. An active prejudicefor variety as the spice of life should not lure monastic people away from a profound regularity of life in which the monastic heart is purified and disciplined for docility to the spon-taneity of God's Spirit. The disorder of any inappropriate irregularity is serious enough to trivialize the monastic experience of God. 658 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 3. Being set apart from the world in order to be part of the world. The monastic dynamic always requires an appropriate withdrawal from the world. This being set apart from the world can never become an end in itself, nor an uncaring protection from the world. Should such a lack of concern develop, the monastic life would have lost that apostolic commitment to this world which is essential to all Christian discipleship. But for the monastic heart, it is precisely through being set apart from the world that a care and concern for the world grows and is appropriately expressed. This monastic withdrawal from the world can serve as a reminder for all disciples of Jesus. "If you belonged to the world, the world would love its own; but the reason that the world hates you is that you do not belong to the world for I chose you out of the world" (Jn 15:19). These words of Jesus profess a type of separation from the world without which serious Christian discipleship can never be possible. The monastic separation from the world-- never meant to be a frightened disinterest, but rather a sharing in God's passionate care for this world--serves as a reminder of Jesus' words for every Christian disciple. This monastic separation from the world is expressed in many different ways. Some monasteries are situated literally out in the middle of nowhere. Others are situated in the midst of an inner city, still crumbling or now being redeveloped. Sometimes the monastic person is set apart from the world in a small, simple apartment-hermitage. Especially in experimentation after Vatican II, monastic women and men have rediscovered that the cloister of the heart contemplatively fascinated in God is the central issue, much more than any grilles and cloistered spaces. And yet, unless there is an appropriate external separation from the world, the monastic heart will be distracted and become trivialized in its simple contemplative focus on God. 4. Stability, solitude and peace figure prominently in the monastic life. From the outset, in discussing the importance of each of these three qual-ities in the monastic life, key distinction must be made between the quality considered as a profound inner reality of heart and as an external expression of that same interior reality. When stability is viewed as a profound, inner quality of heart, it typifies and would be expected of any mature believer-- and not just of the monastic person. Interior stability, as dependability and responsibility before God, always entails the refined sensitivity which dis-tinguishes God's word of true love from the many other seductive words of apparent and fallacious love heard at times within the human heart. This inner stability and refined insight comprise the core of faith maturity and, therefore, would be at the very heart of both monastic and active apostolic lifestyles. Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 659 But there is an appropriate external expression of this inner stability of heart that typifies the monastic lifestyle and not the active. Vowed stability in a monastic congregation, though surely a profound reality of heart in all the members, also unites them in this specific place with a communal bond that facilitates their ongoing search together into God. This kind of external stability, while stimulating profound communal experience of God in the monastic life, obviously interferes with the mobility of the active life. To appreciate the necessary role of solitude in the monastic life, the same distinction must be applied. A regular experience of solitude alone with and in God is another sign of every mature believer, whether called to the monas-tic or the active life. Without such experience of God in solitude, we remain superficial and immature, in our experience of life, ourselves and God. One of the dangers that could weaken the Church's ministry today, especially in the active form, is the situation in which active apostles become too busy for regular prayer in solitude--with the result that their faith becomes immature, superficial and indecisive. But for the monastic heart there must be an appropriate external expression and atmosphere of quiet solitude if one is to maintain a live witness within the Church of an inner solitude with God, a nourishment for which all our hearts year9 and are made. In a similar fashion, peace, as a deep inner quality of heart, is Jesus' gift to every serious disciple. Beyond this mature, inner experience of Jesus' peace, the monastic apostolic lifestyle also provides an external expression and atmosphere of peace, without the disruption and distraction of the active lifestyle. This distinction between inner quaiity of heart and external expression is very helpful in describing both the overlapping and the distinctiveness of these two apostolic lifestyles. I will make use of it later in describing the active style of being apostolic. 5. The apostolate of formal prayer is most typical of monastic spirituafity. The formal prayer of the Liturgy of the Hours and the Eucharist and of individual contemplation is the chief and primary apostolate or ministry of the monastic heart. No other secondary ministry should be practiced except insofar as it relates to and does not interfere with the monastic life of con-templation alone with God. To blur or confuse this ministerial primacy of formal prayer could, once again, trivialize the monastic experience of God. The monastic heart always senses a salvific radiation emanating from its contemplative adventure alone in God. 6. Importance of physical presence in the formation of monastic community. Christian community is usually easier to define than to live. Wherever 660 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 it occurs, it is a union of minds and hearts primarily focused by a shared faith vision. Though many other elements, like similar age, training and interests, may facilitate union of minds and hearts, nothing is more important than a genuinely corporate faith vision regularly experienced and appropri-ately expressed. In the monastic style of Christian community, physical pres-ence, often in silence, plays a very important role in developing and maintaining the unity deriving from a corporate faith vision. A physical togetherness in prayer, reading, eating, sleeping and recreating are further aspects of the monastic dynamic at work in human hearts--and they are not unimportant ones in the living of monastic community. The Active Apostolic Dynamic Contrasted with the monastic, the active apostolic lifestyle is rooted in a different dynamic in the heart, and it also takes a different expression. This difference becomes obvious in the first of the six aspects that I will now describe. 1. Ministry is the primary determining influence. Vatican II, when describing this active dynamic in terms of religious life, speaks of communities in which "the very nature of the religious life requires apostolic action and services.''4 When this active charism is given either to a whole community or to an individual believer, it is ministerial involvement, rather than formal prayer, that determines the contours and the schedule of daily life. This is an important but very subtle point, which requires further eluci-dation, lest it be seriously misunderstood. To give primacy of influence to ministry is not meant to deny the absolute importance of quiet contemplation for the active apostle. Henri Nouwen states clearly the importance of formal prayer for ministry when he says: "If the minister wants to minister 'In the Name' he must live in the Name and speak and act from there.''5 Without mature prayer, mature ministry just is not possible. To deepen their regular contemplative experience is a great challenge today for active apostles, so busy and fatigued with responding to our modern world's needs. Let me be firm and clear in asserting this radical importance of formal prayer for the busy minister. The point to be stressed here, while not denying the importance of regular prayer, concerns the influence that ministry has on the whole makeup of the active life. The legitimate demands of ministry form the schedule of the day. When people enter a new ministry, with the intention of maintaining a past set time for private prayer which now will clearly interfere with availability for the new ministry, this violates the dynamic of the active apostolic charism. Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 661 To have a schedule of formal prayer already in place before entering into the new ministerial situation is backwards for active apostles. Rather, they must first insert themselves into the new ministry and get an honest sense of its reasonable demands. Only then can their conviction about regular contemplation determine the specifics of when, where and how long they should pray each day. That there be regular contemplation is beyond doubt, regardless of ministry. But the determination of the specifics of regular contemplation depends upon the demands of the new ministry. For the active apostle, ministry, then, while not a substitute for regular contemplation, is the primary determining influence in this whole way of life. 2. Flexibility for change is central. Because busy ministry and service of others is essential to active spiritu-ality, a regular routine scheduled around formal prayer is not possible. A flexibility of heart and spirit is called for, in order to respond to the challenges and needs of a world so often in great upheaval and unrest. The earlier distinction between a profound reality of the heart and its external expression is important here again. Flexibility of heart is not some-thing that only active apostles know. A profound inner flexibility of spirit makes possible genuine docility to the spontaneity of the Holy Spirit--and is always a sign of spiritual maturity, both for monastic and for active people. Responsible involvement in complicated and unsettled situations, something not usual in monastic life, calls forth in the active apostle a distinctive external expression and practice of this mature flexibility of heart. The struggle and anguish involved in much of our response to Vatican II reveals how hard it is to change a routine and how prone many of us are to find our security in a rather rigid routine rather than in a faithfully loving God. As indicated above I believe that a routine is not only healthy, but necessary for living out the monastic charism. But, while a certain routine is necessary for all human life, the active apostle must always resist the escape into an overly monastic routine and must learn to trust the gift of flexibility that is always part of the active apostolic dynamic in the Church. 3. Ability discerningly to find, be with and serve God in all activity. Someone in a busy, active life can become very scattered and distracted. One's attention almost constantly flits from one thing to another. One's energy and concern are poured out in one situation after another. Drained and running, one loses a sense of focus, of unity and maybe even of funda-mental meaning. As life gets more and more hectic and chaotic, burnout of body and spirit sets in. Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Moments of special religious experience in formal prayer cannot, all by themselves, stem the tide of this heightening discouragement and tension. More than regular formal prayer is needed. Despite a great desire for unity and integration, human consciousness is capable, often without being aware of it, of various compartmentalizations. One of these is the split between formal prayer and the activity of life. In such a split, the surge of religious experience in private prayer ebbs in the face of all the busy activity of the rest of the day. The frantic, frenetic business of the day often calls forth and reveals in the apostle little sense of God. Private prayer is stubbornly main-tained in an attempt to keep religious experience alive. But such an ebb and flow of religious experience actually saps the apostle's energy and finally fails in accomplishing the desired integration in which all the activity of a day contributes to, rather than interferes with, a person's unifying religious experience. The proper balance of regular prayer and discerning involvement in the business of everyday can simplify and purify the focus and commitment of a heart so that the compartmentalized split of human experience into sacred and secular is gradually healed in a unity whereby all human experience bbc0mes religious--and finds God. In my own opinion, this is the greatest challenge still facing active apostolic spirituality. Often, past religious for-mation produced a compartmentalized relationship between prayer and activ-ity. Religious formation, in many ways, is still struggling to help active apostles find the proper interior integration that facilitates, and actually makes possible, the religious experience of finding, being with and serving God in all activity. Active apostles need a reflective sensitivity, in order to recognize the subtle but real difference between a selfish manipulation of others that finds self and a generously humble service of others that finds God. Only a genuine experience of the intimacy of God's love as beyond all other love and inviting a radical abandonment of self in love to God, together with a rigorously careful discernment of inner affective experiences, can make possible a human, loving presence that finds God in all activity and dealings with others. Vatican 11 makes a similar claim when it says that, for com-munities in religious life whose very nature requires apostolic action and services, "their entire apostolic activity should be animated by a religious spirit.''~ 4. Mobility and apostolic availability are key in active spirituality. Because mission and active ministry are so central to the active apostolic dynamic, mobility of body and spirit are important. Any rigidity in a person can interfere with the fruitfulness of this charism. In an active religious corn- Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 663 munity, the members come together precisely in order to be sent out on specific ministries, each of which shares in God's mission of salvation in Jesus. Any stubborn selfishness or immature insecurity will always corrode that mobility for mission which should characterize active spirituality. Apostolic availability is a readiness of spirit born of a freedom radically fascinated with a loving God's faithful commitment to us. Because of the inevitable limitation of human weakness and sinfulness, this freedom never perdures perfectly in a human heart. It must be won and received again and again. But the more this precious freedom grows in a human heart or in a whole congregation the more an availability of spirit allows the person or congregation to be thoroughly committed to a present ministry, but always with a readiness for wherever God's love may lead in the future. 5. The prayer of the apostolate is most typical of active spirituafity. The phrase that typifies monastic spirituality is reversed here. Granting, once again, the absolute value of regular contemplation in any serious spiritual life, the typical and more important prayer of the active apostle is a distinctively prayerful presence in and through all activity. This is related to. the third element above, i.e. the need to find, be with and serve God in all activity. The prayer of the apostolate should not be misunderstood as that claim and practice that many of us struggled with through the 1960s and 1970s: "my work is my prayer." Most of us now know the heresy.of such a claim, even though active apostles who would not want to profess an identification of work and prayer can still easily be pressured into living such a heresy. We have learned again over recent years that for no one does work become prayer, unless that person regularly stops working--and prays. So the prayer of the apostolate does not mean any simpliste identification of work and prayer. Rather the prayer of the apostolate involves two mutual and integral movements. The first is an appropriate, regular involvement in contempla-tion, which gradually spills over and renders pi'ayerful everything the person does, says and is. The second is an involvement in activity which stirs a desire for, and sometimes provides the subject matter of, formal contemplation in private. As one grows faithful and sensitive to these two movements, a pres-ence in all activity develops which is prayerful--a presence which is the Spirit of God praying and which reveals those clear signs of the Spirit mentioned in chapter five of Galatians. ¯ 6. A unity of mind and heart extending far beyond physical presence. Whereas the corporate faith vision of those sharing the monastic charism 664 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 requires much physical presence with one another, the active apostolic dynamic, because its very nature requires apostolic action and services, does not depend as much on the physical presence of the members to each other. It can foster a union of minds and hearts among members missioned all over the world in various ministries. Obviously, this corporate bond is not auto-matic. It is not the effect of any one person's fiat. It cannot be something superficially external. Rather, a unity rooted deeply in the hearts of all mem-bers will always require a profound attitude of heart on the part of each member, a distinctive type of missioning process and the careful practice of certain human, symbolic means. To say that the active charism depends less on the physical presence of the members than the monastic does certainly does not mean that physical presence can be simply disregarded in active communities. It is inhuman to imagine that members of a local live-in community, whatever the size, can develop a union of minds and hearts if they never gather together in quality physical presence. However, without disregarding the need for some such physical presence, we must not conceive the communitarian dimension Of the active charism according to monastic norms. Many active congregations today continue to struggle in local communities with how much physical presence of all members and what quality of presence of each is needed if there is to be a genuine, faith union of minds and hearts. If this struggle is not better resolved soon, increasing numbers of active religious, caught in the tension between involvement in an exciting ministry and the boring frustration of no shared vision in the local community, may well find celibacy too heavy a burden to bear alone. The De-monasticizing of Active Religious Life As religious have seriously responded to Vatican II's invitation to return to "the original inspiration" behind their own institute, a greater realization of the clear distinction between the differing and graced dynamics of the monastic and active has grown among us. In the wake of this growing clarity there also comes the realization that in the past we have not always respected this distinction with enough care. A major part of the renewal of religious life, therefore, has involved the de-monasticizing of institutes which were, in their founding, and which should, with greater fidelity over the years have continued to be, actively apostolic rather than monastic. This de-monasticizing process has not been easy. Mistakes have occurred. At times, inevitably, overreaction has set in. And many individuals have experienced great personal anguish in the midst of the confusion and turmoil of critiquing and of chang-ing, through experiment, revered and long-standing practices. But this process, although most painful, was unavoidable. To avoid it Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 665 would have been as serious a refusal as to violate the reverent d~cility due the Spirit of God who invites us to be faithful to the genuine, graced identity of our religious institute. In the past twenty years much headway has been made in realigning the fundamental conception, formation programs, ministerial practices and daily living of communities according to their rediscovered, original identity. Though the process is surely not finished, we are presently involved, appropriately enough, in a period of careful assessment of the fruits of this renewal process.7 A successful evaluation can help us to sift the precious wheat of fidelity to the essentials of religious life, as incarnated in appropriate contemporary expressions of the original founding charism, from the deceptive (though often attractive!) weeds of contemporary develop-ments that either destroy a necessary continuity of identity or shortsightedly try to defend older forms, which are now, and ought to be, simply dead. Vatican II reminds us of the importance of fidelity to the unique charism and identity of each religious community. "It serves the best interests of the Church for communities to have their own special character and purpose."s In line with this directive Thomas Merton cautions us against confusing the monastic and active dynamic: "The monastic life must not be evaluated in terms of active religious life, and the monastic orders should not be equated with other religious institutes, clerical or otherwise. The monastic community does not exist for the sake of any apostolic or educational work, even as a secondary end. The works of the monk are not justified by their external results but only by their relevance to his monastic life alone with God.''9 In conclusion, let me point to three results of respecting the clear dis-tinction between the active and monastic dynamic. First, we must be careful how we make use of the Liturgy of the Hours. In the monastic community the Liturgy of the Hours is a primary determinant and focus of the whole day, at which the physical presence of all is expected. In the active commu-nity, a regular communal prayer besides th.e Eucharist seems necessary. Some use of the Liturgy of the Hours may serve as an appropriate regular com-munity prayer. On the other hand, some other type of communal prayer may better serve a particular community. If something o.f the Liturgy of the Hours is used, it should not become a primary determinant and focus of schedule, to the detriment of the members' ministerial involvement. So, depending on the size and variety of the local community, the physical presence of all members is neither expected nor possible. However, the active community would be deficient in its unified faith vision if each member did not share the same desire to pray together regularly--which desire would always take expression in physical presence, except for ministerial reasons. But for an active community to use the Liturgy of the Hours in a monastic fashion would be to violate its God-given charism. 666 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Second, members of active communities cannot avoid a natural monas-ticizing tendency as they get older. As the biological breakdown of old age sets in, religious become less and less active, they settle into a much more regularized pattern, and the apostolate of prayer becomes more predominant in their daily lives. If we are careful of certain presuppositions, this natural monasticizing tendency will not necessarily violate the active apostolic nature of a community. But the older members, whose lifestyle is now understand-ably more monastic, must not claim that this monastic lifestyle is the genuine identity of the whole congregation. Another subtle change of attitude could be entailed here. If a section of the motherhouse is located where many of the older, retired sisters are living, then naturally the style and schedule of life for that part of the house will be more monastic--as it should be. However, we must then be careful .that this more monastic schedule and style not be idolized as typical for all other houses of the congregation, an image that motherhouses often in the past have projected. Such a misunderstanding would be a serious interference with the unity and ministerial effectiveness of the whole congregation. In fact, it can be downright demoralizing and dis-torting for younger members. Furthermore, though these older members are much more inactive than earlier in their lives, they must be helped to keep the active zeal and concerns of their hearts alive and peacefully integrated with their bodily inactivity. These older members must also have a live sense of the ministry of old age and retirement. They must be helped to realize how valuable and necessary for the whole congregation's ministerial effectiveness is their own ministry of prayer and sacrifice. So often older religious think they have retired from ministry. I cannot stress enough the need for the elderly, and for everyone, to realize that while the aged and the sick must humbly retire from active involvement they never retire from ministry. The final and most important ministry is dying. If these concerns are not forgotten, then the natural monasticizing tendency of old age 'will not interfere with the active, apostolic nature of a religious community. Third, in the long history of women's religious congregations, for various historical reasons which are beyond my simple point here, the Church has had great difficulty in recognizing the active charism at work in the hearts of various foundresses. Angela Merici, Mary Ward, Marguerite Bourgeoys and Louise de Marillac and their followers are but a very few examples of the suffering this confusion has caused. In some ways the Church still continues to struggle today with this issue of more fully acknowledging and facilitating the active charism within communities of women religious. It is very clear that the Church's welcoming approval of valid contemporary forms of active spirituality among women religious--and without imposing any additional, Two Apostolic Lifestyles / 667 illegitimate, monastic expectations-- will enormously enrich God's mission of justice and love in our world. This article has described two different charisms, two different apostolic lifestyles, the active and the monastic. The Spirit of God has created and kept these two charisms alive in the Church. In a recent talk to the American bishops Michael Buckley, S.J., summarized the treatment of charism in the document "Directives for Mutual Relations Between Bishops and Religious in the Church": "Charism always involves three factors: It is an enabling gift of the Spirit which so conforms the recipients to Christ that they build the Church.''~° Three things, then: a gift of the Spirit, intimacy with Jesus, for the sake of the Church. As we come to appreciate further the active and monastic lifestyles in the Church, it is the hope of this writer that we will not confuse or corrupt these different charisms, but cooperate with what God intends, through them, for the unity of the Church, the holiness of its members and the service of a faith-filled justice in our world. Paul's words to the Corinthians both confirm and stimulate our hope: There is a variety of gifts but always the same Spirit; there are all sorts of service to be done, but always to the same Lord; working in all sorts of differ-ent ways in different people, it is the same God who is working in all of them. The particular way in which the Spirit is given to each person is for a good purpose (1 Co 12:4-7). NOTES ~They Speak By Silence, a Carthusian (Huntington, Indiana: Our Sunday Visitor Inc.), p.3. 2One Pace Beyond--The Life of Nano Nagle, M. Raphael Consedine, P.B.V.M., (Moorabbin, Victoria: L.R. McKinnon & Co., 1977), p. 7. 3As a result of their study of the document "Essential Elements in the Church's Teach-ing on Religious Life as Applied to Institutes Dedicated to Works of the Apostolate," Franciscans are investigating and proposing the evangelical life as the best description of their charism. It remains to be seen whether this evangelical life is a third type of spirituality different from what I am calling the monastic and the active, whether it is its own unique blend of the active and monastic, or whether it is a particular version of an active spirituality. 668 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 4Vatican 11, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," #8. 5Soul Friend, Kenneth Leech, (San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1977), p. viii. 6Vatican II, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of Religious Life," #8. 7See my two articles "Assessing and Choosing Even as the Journey Continues," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, March/April 1984, and "Come Let Us Talk This Over: Issues in Spirituality, 1985," Part 1, 'REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, July/August 1985, and Part II, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September/October 1985. 8Vatican II, "Decree on the Appropriate Renewal of the Religious Life," #2. 9The Monastic Journey, T. Merton, (New York: Image, 1978), p. 213. ~°See "The Charism and Identity of Religious Life," REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September/ October 1985, p. 661. From Tablet to Heart: Internalizing New Constitutions I and II Address: by Patricia Spillane, M.S. C. Price: $1.25 per copy, plus postage. Review for Religious Rm 428 3601 Lindell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Canonical Considerations of Autonomy and Hierarchical Structure Elizabeth McDonough, O.P. Sister McDonough is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Canon Law at The Catholic University of America (Washington, DC 20064). This article is based on a presen-tation she made to the LCWR convention in New Orleans last September. In the Middle Ages--from the grips of which many people suspect canon law has never been freed--canonical discipline was known as "practical theo-logy." That is, it was not a separate science as it is today, with specialized formulators, practitioners, codifiers and interpreters. What people did on a regular basis became operative norms of action. By authoritative interven-tion or by custom these operative norms of action eventually became recog-nized as laws in the technical sense of the Aristotelian/Thomistic construct, that is: An ordinance of reason formulated and promulgated by one charged with care of the common good. At that point in time the reasonableness of the norm, the intelligence of the individual, and each person's freedom of choice were paramount. Also in the Middle Ages--from the grips of which many people like-wise suspect religious life has never been freed--the ancient monastic and recently discovered mendicant ideas of religious life held sway. By that time the former was already highly clericalized, feudally land-based, rather well-off, and subject to frequent reforms. The latter was a new notion capitalizing on mobility, the development of towns, the discovery of trade, the rise of universities, and renewed lay piety. It, too, soon became rather clericalized; comfortably land-based, economically well-off, and in need of frequent reforms. 669 670 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 Nearly three centuries later at the time of Trentmfrom the grips of which most people are quite certain canon law and religious life have not been freed--canonical science was heavily influenced by nominalism, voluntarism, legalism and emerging casuistry. At that point in time the reasonableness of the norm, the intelligence of the individual, and one's freedom of choice were no longer paramount. The then recognized forms of religious life were suffering badly from the mediocrity and compromise and half measures that commonly accompany the waning of initial fervor, the dissipation of energies, the loss of resources, the monotony of the ordinary, the discovery of personal interpretation, and the sometimes misplaced convenience of dis-pensation, exception and privilege. Similarly, all of society was in flux: notions of political power, emerging nations, methods of warfare, forms of communication, frontiers of exploration, monetary systems, philosophical reasoning, theological conclusions, and ecclesiastical structures all experienced incredible upheavals and alterations. And in the midst of this social and ecclesial melange, the desperately needed "new idea" of apostolic religious life was conceived by Angela Merici, Ignatius Loyola, Mary Ward, Louise de Marillac and Jane de Chantal. These charismatic individuals were fol-lowed in a few centuries by Catherine McAuley and many others. Perhaps it was a failure of imagination on the part of the ecclesiastical establishment that perpetuated the ancient, cloistered, monastic model in theological reasoning and canonical practice for women religious. But reli-gious life itself simply continued to develop. Eighty percent of the religious groups ever founded became established between Trent and the twentieth century, and non-cloistered, non-solemnly vowed, apostolic religious life for women was finally universally recognized, but not until 1900. Canon law-- retaining some remnant of its medieval ',practical theology" identity--could not ignore the reality of the "new idea" in religious life forever, although recognition came rather slowly by our standards. Relating to the Present But what precisely is the connection of all this with the topic at hand, namely "Canonical Considerations of Self-Determination, Just Autonomy and Hierarchical Structure"? The connection is this: At the moment recog-nized forms of religious life are suffering badly from the mediocrity and compromise and half measures that commonly accompany the waning of initial fervor, the dissipation of energies, the loss of resources, the monotony of the ordinary, the discovery of personal interpretation, and the sometimes misplaced convenience of dispensation, exception and privilege. Similarly, at the present time all of society is in flux: notions of political power, emerg-ing nations, methods of warfare, forms of communication, frontiers of explo- Canonical Considerations / (171 ration, monetary systems, philosophical reasoning, theological conclusions, and ecclesiastical structures are all experiencing incredible upheavals and alterations. We are clearly in a post-conciliar era incredibly comparable to the late Middle Ages and to post-Tridentine times. In the midst of this social and ecclesial melange, religious life is again in need--perhaps desperately in need--of yet another "new idea." But those of us who are currently members of established communities, more than likely, are not the bearers of this desperately "new idea." At best we are perhaps--or certainly have the opportunity to be--artisans of a transition. And with proper understand-ing and use, this writer contends that canon law can be a great aid in this transition. Fostering a Transition To illustrate the transitional role of contemporary religious institutes, let us for a moment take the medieval methodological approach of canon law as "practical theology" and look at what current "theology in practice" in the 1983 code suggests about this life we call "religious." To begin, the new law talks about life: an identifiable form of life, a substantive form of life, a stable form of life. It speaks of a life clearly understood and freely chosen: a life of following Christ, a life of total dedication to God. It con-siders this life a particular state in the Church undertaken by profession of the evangelical counsels and lived in accord with the supreme law of the Gospel as expressed in the proper law of one's institute. It is a life involving some fixed organizational structures, certain obligations and rights, various spiritual exercises, some restrictions on personal and apostolic activities, numerous clear procedures for admission and departure, and a public con-nection to the local and universal Church. From the point of view of "practical theology" the new code requires proper law specification in seventy-four out of the one hundred fifty-three canons that apply to religious institutes. In other words, in nearly half of the canons concerning religious, the institute itself must or may determine specific elements of the life of its members, both individually and collectively. Thus, widespread distinctions in practice are not excluded by the universal law requirements for common life, identifiable superiors, necessary forma-tion, apostolic limitations, departure procedures, and the like. The prin-ciple of subsidiarity is canonically incorporated in the new code, and opportunities for practical variations are amply provided. How well or to what extent these are utilized depends entirely on one's proper law. Proper-law revision, or the writing of constitutions, as experienced during the last two decades in the life of religious institutes has been no easy task, however. In some instances the process was carried out in an ambience of 672 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 internal polarization that fomented contentions among members as each retreated to his or her corner courageously defending the truth for the sake of God. In other instances the formulation of an institute's truly representa-tive legislation was complicated by a certain lack of contemporaneity in institutional and hierarchical Church structures themselves. Nevertheless, these difficulties do not negate the fact that it is precisely the revision of proper-law wherein lies the opportunity for institutes to incorporate new ideas and new experiences of religious life. Good proper-law revision allows them to accomplish this without having to shoulder the burden of being the initiators or receivers of the desperately needed "new idea" mentioned above. Moreover, incorporating new ideas and experiences in proper-law to the greatest extent possible now, can help pave the way for later canonical acceptance of other, newer ideas and experiences, however long that may take. Institutionalizing Charisms Backtracking momentarily before going on, let us note that the phrase "new idea" is entirely inadequate. Ideas have consequences, but they are not the only realities that have consequences. And religious life is never primarily or merely an idea, an intellectual endeavor. It is a gift of the Spirit to, in, and through the Church. Charisms are like seeds planted in particularly fertile soil in a specific historical context. They are shaped and reshaped by the exigencies of history, by the fortunes and misfortunes of the passage of time. They are nourished and grow and evolve in the context of everyday life with everyday people--interspersed here and there by those we happily refer to as "saints" (while being equally happy we never had to live with them). Charisms are never captured in constitutions or any collection of fundamental and secondary documents. Charisms live in people or they do not live at all. Legal norms, on the other hand, are externally formulated and externally measurable. They can never totally express internal motivation. Thus, the basic import of any constitutions and any collection of fundamental and secondary documents is not merely their juridical perspective and canoni-cal determination. The legal heritage of an institute, capturing as best it can the articulated charism, is always conditioned by the emerging values of real life as experienced by those inspired to embrace the charism. People are, you see, an undeniably important element of the canonical system. On another level, the institutional Church, which in some form or another has been with us for nearly two millennia, must itself occasionally reach out and embrace a genuinely new charism. In such instances the ecclesial structure must fracture its preset boundaries, redefine its established cate-gories, and reorient its institutional life in order to incorporate, that is, take Canonical Considerations / 673 into its structures, a new breath of the Spirit. This reaching out and embracing a charism has probably happened only three times in Church history: for Benedictine monasticism, medieval mendicancy, and post-reformation apostolic orders. In each instance, institutional embracing of the new charism occurred quite slowly, required numerous adjustments and experienced set-backs over the years. The time may very well be ripe for another institutional embracing of truly new charisms of consecrated life in the Church. If so, this too will occur slowly, require adjustments, and experience setbacks. And, if history can offer us any objective insights regarding the process and its effects, one might be cautioned to note that once the institutional Church reaches out and embraces a genuinely new charism, the rest of the story is that of the charism's institutionalization. It is simply a matter of time and human nature: initial ideals are eventually dimmed or forgotten; initial fervor is slowly chilled or lost; initial Gospel goals are gradually subordinated to preservation of the new institution. Suffice it to say that the readers of this article are, more likely than not, part of already established, already institutionalized charisms and, as such, are not the first wave of any new movement in religious life. Limiting Self-Determination and Autonomy The parameters of ecclesial embrace and the exigencies of historical evolu-tion are the primary limiting factors in the "self-determination"aspect of any religious founder or foundress, of any religious institute. Self-determina-tion is never absolute. It has always been far from so for religious life, and still is. But this is also the case, for example, regarding members of the Christian faithful in general. In the new code all Christians are entitled to form associations (c. 215). All Christians should lead holy lives and promote the building up of the Church (c. 210). All Christians have the right and duty to work towards announcing the Gospel of :salvation (c. 211) and to undertake apostolic activi-ties (c. 216). But no Christians are obliged in any way to seek official recog-nition for these :activities in 'any canonical form unless they choose to do them in the name of the Church '(c.301,). And no Christian is obliged in any way to choose any form of consecrated life (c. 573 §2). Yet the self-determination of any Christian (which is never absolute to begin with) is quite circumscribed and channeled--limited, if you will--by either of the above choices once made. As individuals we cannot be both teachers and nurses at the same time. As communities we cannot be both monastic and apostolic at the same time. As institutes we cannot be both Ursuline and Franciscan at the same time. Thus, in an era that prefers to deal with "both/and," we are sometimes faced with an inevitable "either/or" because 674 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 no self-determination is absolute. Similarly the "just autonomy" of any institute is always and only to be considered within the context of ecclesial embrace and historical evolu-tion. Philosophically speaking, autonomy refers to freedom from external control and censure. It guarantees room for action and reflection without disruption, but it includes necessary coordination in reference to the whole. Nevertheless, any auto nomos, from the Greek to be self-normed, is funda-mentally limited by creation and redemption: by our realistic situation of being creatures in an ambience of and affected by evil. As individuals we have from the start only limited independence that remains always relative: so, too, with religious institutes in the Church. Appreciating the Role of Obligation Here it may be important to digress somewhat to consider the bias that supports the current canonical system. It is a philosophical/theological con-struct characterized by valuing status, common good and obligation. This is so in contrast to more recent philosophical/theological constructs character-ized by valuing human dignity, individual advantage and personal rights. Neither need be mutually exclusive of, or in direct contradiction to, the other. But both have often appeared so. Even with the advances of the last few centuries and the affirmations of recent popes and the articulations of Vatican Council II, the former con-struct is the one that clearly underlies the new law. In the new code, the communal context of "status" constantly qualifies any affirmations of equality in dignity. In it, the common good--perceived as a set of conditions enabling the attainment of reasonable objectives for the sake of which individuals have decided to collaborate--is clearly prior to independent, indi-vidual advantage. In it, rights are subordinate to and conditioned upon duties intrinsic to the Gospel and to our social nature. In it, the protection of rights is for the sake of fuller participation in one's evangelical and social obliga-tions. And in it, patriarchal paradigms and male-dominated linear images still predominate. But what of the alternative constructs? What of, for example, the philosophical and theological mind-set that emerges from the social contract and human rights theories of Hobbes, Locke and Rousseau? These are to a great extent the basis of our constitutional republic and the foundation of American civil law and jurisprudence. Prescinding from their equally patriarchal paradigms and male-dominated linear images, note that social-contract and human-rights theories appear to posit the pristine existence of free, independent but highly vulnerable individuals willing to ransom a portion of personal autonomy for collective security. Rights are the "playing Canonical Considerations / 675 cards" or the "poker chips" of the barter: some cannot be relinquished (these are termed "inalienable"); others can be relinquished but can also be recalled (in breach of contract). It may appear, at times, that the institu-tional Church would be much better off with a healthy dose of American civil liberties incorporated into its legal system: with a civil rights basis; with non-hierarchical checks and balances; with protection by administrative pro-cedures; with guarantees of prior notification, due process, provision for counsel, and the like. And, for the most part, this is probably not only an accurate observation but also a viable possibility and partial reality. Witness, for instance, the numerous appeals boards and administrative tribunals that already exist in many religious institutes and dioceses to complement the heavily hierarchical Church system. Indeed, it is clear that these two systems are not, and need not be considered, contradictory or mutually exclusive. Nevertheless, there is a significant difference between the Medieval and Enlightenment mind-sets, and the difference is crucial for ecclesiastical law and especially for religious institutes. Social-contract and human-rights con-structs, while very affirming of life and dignity in theory, are singularly inept at guaranteeing life and dignity to the individual from the community in practice. This is because one finds in them no legal locus of obligation. They are based, if you will, on the implicit myth that somewhere there exists a Utopian world of perfectly free humans who have no alienated or usurped rights and who experience no unresolved conflicts, individually or collectively. Reality is not quite so Utopian. So, for example, in the American social-contract/ human-rights systems, suppose you are .walking over a bridge beneath which there is someone in the water drowning. Note that, even though the drowning person has affirmed rights to life, education, suitable housing, equal-opportunity employment, a just wage, and more, there is absolutely no civil-law focus of obligation for anyone to come to his or her aid. This is not to say there is no moral obligati?n to come tothe person's aid, but there is no legal one. In fact, the legal system--because of numerous possibilities for litigation--at times seems even to militate against fulfillment of one's moral obligations in such situations. And note that we are not discussing here the medical/moral/legal subtleties of prenatal life or of the terminally ill. We simply have a recognizably fully alive human being with numerous affirmed rights who ends up quite dead because of lack of legal obligation in the system itself. In sharp contrast, the Aristotelian/Thomistic system of law, and even further back the Judaic/Talmudic system of law, are based primarily on obligations: common, mutual, reciprocal obligations that arise from a cor-porate experience. The Hebrew, the Christian, the religious is chosen-- passive voice--be it at Sinai, through the Last Supper, or by a call to conse- 676 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 crated life. We are chosen. This is not to suggest that we, therefore, have no responsibilities; but rather, to highlight the fact that the initiative is God's. Only the response is ours. Thus it is the beginning of our system's notion of legal obligation that becomes the crucial difference in the end.~ We do not begin by bartering away any pristine "rights." We receive a gift, with consequences. The legal constructs of our lives relate to divine events in and through which everything necessary for the eternal salvation of everyone for all ages has somehow already been given, in some sense even commanded. They are the same divine events in and through which we have freely assumed personal perpetual obligations. And they provide for an amazing absence of Utopian myths. For there is in salvation history ample evidence of human failure, outright betrayal, personal and collective infidelity, repeated digressions, and an uncanny unwillingness to live up to our part of the bargain. In contrast, on the part of God, there is ample evidence of long-suffering patience, relentless forgiveness and unswerving fidelity to the promise of mercy. Moreover, if we do not read the Gospel too selectively, even after having done everything expected, you and I have no basic right or even a distant claim to any reward whatsoever, although we are assured in the end of attaining the greatest possible goal. Situating Obligation in Hierarchical Structures The importance of proper law--the law that obtains for one's own insti-tute- has already been mentioned in regard to fostering the current transition in the paradigms of religious life. Proper law is also crucial to any element of self-determination and just autonomy within the Church's hierarchical structure. And the central element of ecclesiastical proper law, as well as ecclesiastical universal law, is the locus of incumbent obligation. This is what gives our laws content and objectivity for assuring the protection of values and the exercise of rights, even if these values and rights are not directly named as such. In fact, whether or not the values and rights are actually named in the law is of minimal importance. Perhaps at this point an example is in order. There is an ancient principle of Roman Law which states: Where there is a right, there is a remedy (Ubi ius, ibi remedium). It is in the logical contrapositive that we more readily recognize the truth of the principle, namely: If there is no remedy to be found for violation of an affirmed right, there is really no right at all. With this in mind, let us proceed to the example. It is an example not taken from ttie~ law for religious so that the content will not distract from the point intend~dl. Chnon 22'1! §'2',of~ the 1983 code states: If the Christian faithful are sum- Canonical Considerations / 677 moned to judgment by c6mpetent authority, they have the right to be judged in accord with the prescriptions of law applied with equity. It sounds wonder-ful. But what is there to guarantee that this will, indeed, be the case? The answer: incumbent obligations and opportunities to insist on their fulfill-ment as provided in the canons on judicial procedures. °The affirmed right of c. 221 §2 can be vindicated because all tribunal personnel must take an oath that they will fulfill their functions properly and faithfully (c. 1454). All tribunal personnel must disqualify themselves from involvement in cases concerning: (1) persons with whom they have a first-cousin or closer relationship, (2) persons for whom they are guardians or trustees~ (3) persons with whom they have a close friendship or for whom they feel a great animosity, as well as (4) those instances in which they desire to make a profit or avoid some loss (c. 1448). And if the tribunal personnel do not disqualify themselves, the parties in the case can lodge an objection (c. 1229) to which the court must attend before the trial can continue (c. 1451). All tribunal personnel are forbidden to accept any gifts whatsoever for the performance of their duties (c. 1456). And any tribunal personnel are subject to penalties, including loss of office, if they refuse to deal with a case for which they are competent, or attempt to deal with a case for which they are not competent, or violate the law of secrecy, or inflict damage on the parties out of malice or serious negligence (c. 1457). In other words, these procedural canons--specifying as they do the legal locus of obligations and providing the opportunity to insist that the obliga-tions be fulfilled--are really what give canonical force to c. 221 §2. But the point is this: These canons, albeit with different numbers, were also in the former code. The affirmation of current c. 221 §2 was not. How much this newly affirmed "right" would mean without these related obligations is questionable, for indeed: If there is no remedy, there is really no right. And how much this newly incorporated right actually adds to the related, already long-standing procedures still remains to be seen. All the foregoing in norway intends to ignore the fact that. even in the best of legal systems incumbent obligations can upon occasion be observed primarily in the breach. The intention is, rather, to provide a clear under-standing of the importance of obligations in the Church's legal system in order to investigate more meaningfully the numerous obligations contained in the canons concerning religious institutes. Religious Institutes and Obligations To begin our discussion, as well as to illustrate the complexity of the: interrelationships among canons, let us consider thosecanons contaii~ed under the title "Obligations and Rights of Institutes and of their Members,." cc. 678 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 662-672. As often as one might comb the (official Latin) text of the canons, there is not one strict right (ius) to be found. But at this point in the presenta-tion, such a discovery should be no great surprise: It is the locus of incumbent obligation, not the affirmation of rights, that is the substantive base for our legal system. Moreover, listed in these canons there are numerous obliga-tions from which it is clear that what other legal systems call "rights" will be respected even though not mentioned by name. To pursue the practical content of obligations/rights in the code as related to self-determination, just autonomy and hierarchical structure, we will isolate one of the canons in this section and investigate its canonical consequences. Perhaps the most important obligation listed in this set of canons is that of c~ 670: Each institute must (debet) supply for its members all those things necessary for attaining the end of their vocation. The debet is canonically preceptive language. The subject, object, and matter of the obligation are, respectively, the institute, its members, and necessities. Proper law should certainly address itself to the objective meaning of "necessities," and the meaning should have some reference to what is justly judged so in an equit-able manner by competent authority within the norms, structures, and resources of a particular institute. There is some problem, to be sure, with relating mandated necessities to the end of one's vocation when that end ultimately transcends temporal realities and, thus, is effectively precluded from the possibility of practical evaluation. But consequences of the mandate in c. 670 are extensive and have already been addressed by canonists.2 At the very least, this obligation on the part of institutes is interpreted as requiring those in positions, of government to provide for, and as giving members a corresponding right to: (1) sound, complete, approved proper law, (2) structural provision for general chapters, superiors and councils, (3) systematic formation, (4) stable community life, (5) suitable options for apostolic action or internal work in accord with the institute's mission, and (6) appropriate material goods and .opportunities for ongoing health care, formation, work and renewal. Note that none of the mutual obligations/rights in this list are meaningful except as connected to a coherent legal system that can guarantee their fulfill-ment. And recall that in Church law the locus of incumbent obligation is what provides objective content and procedural safeguards for affirmed or unaffirmed rights. It is the locus of incumbent obligation that is the basis for whatever down-ward or lateral accountability might exist in our hierarchical system, which Canonical Considerations / 679 operates primarily on the intrinsic principle of upward accountability. That is, in fulfilling well the obligations it has towards its members (i.e., its down-ward accountability), any institute is also more than likely fulfilling its obliga-tions towards the other elements of the hierarchical structure (i.e., its lateral and upward accountability). Simply put, an institute cares for downward accountability by attending to the legal obligations it has towards its members. It does this by providing for at least the six categories mentioned as flowing from the requirement of c. 670. But in so doing the institute is not only protecting the rights of individual members. It is also establishing itself on a sound operational basis for relating to equivalent juridic persons, such as other religious institutes, in lateral accountability. And it is likewise con-tributing to its own just autonomy in the upward accountability of the insti-tute to higher authorities in the hierarchical structure. Thus, all of the mutual obligations/rights that derive from c. 670 are directly or indirectly related to the question of an institute's existence and just autonomy. But the motive for action and the locus of accountability in c. 670-- fulfilling obligations toward members--shift the focus for the institute from that of accepting the collective imposition of alien restrictions to that of guaranteeing the possible pursuance of someone's response to having been chosen. It is possible to approach this accountability from an entirely different perspective, namely: from the recog-nition of just autonomy for religious institutes in c. 586. Indeed, the result of beginning with c. 586 might even be somewhat similar, as will be seen in the next section. Yet the basis for action in the former approach is probably more canonically sound. Religious Institutes and Just Autonomy Canon 586 states that it belongs to local ordinaries to preserve and protect (servare ac tueri) the autonomy of each institute. In the same canon "just autonomy of life, especially of government" is recognized by universal law. The canon goes on to describe this "just autonomy" as that by which insti-tutes enjoy (gaudeant) their own discipline and have the power to pre~serve (servare valeant) their patrimony3 intact. The patrimony of an institute of consecrated life is described in c. 578 as the intention and purpose of the founders/foundresses, sanctioned by competent ecclesiastical authority, con-cerning the nature, end, spirit and character of the institute as well as its sound traditions. The canon adds that this patrimony is to be faithfully preserved (servanda est) by all. Elsewhere, in c. 631 § 1, the general chapter is given special responsibility both to protect (tueri) the institute's patrimony as described in c. 587 and to promote its appropriate renewal (accommodatam renovationem). Still elsewhere in c. 587 §1, institutes must (debent) incor-porate into their constitutions .whatever is established regarding their 680 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 patrimony in order to faithfully protect (ad. fide#us tuendam) the voca-tion and identity of their instutute. Another set of canons is also pertinent to the investigation at hand: cc. 675 §1, 611 #2, 677 §1, and 671. The first states that in apostolic institutes apostolic action is part of their very nature (ipsam eorundem naturam). The second states that a bishop's consent for canonical erection of a religious house includes the right (ius) to exercise the works proper to the institute according to the norm of law and within any restrictions contained in the consent. The third states that superiors and members of institutes should faithfully retain (fide#ter retineanO and prudently accommodate (prudenter accommodenO the mission and works of their institute. And the fourth states that members may not undertake pgsitions outside of those proper to the institute,without the permission of legitimate superiors. Both the language and the interplay of all these canons are significant. The patrimony of any institute, or, if you will, the meaningful heritage or expres-sion of its charism, is somehow to be contained in its proper law. Note that this is the same sound, complete, approved proper law to which membe~-s have a right by reason of the obligation in c. 670. And this patrimony is to be preserved by all--an unqualified and inclusive all--according to c. 578. Con-stitutions (c. 587), general chapters (c. 631), and local ordinaries (c. 586) are each required (using some form of the same Latin verb, tueor) to protect the institute's patrimony. Chapters have the responsibility to renew it (c. 631), while superiors and members have the ability to retain and accommodate certain aspects of it (c. 677). Now for the sake of example, let us suppose that an institute has been founded whose nature is apostolic, whose purpose is to practice the corporal works of mercy, whose spirit is non-monastic, and whose character, because of its purpose, is for the most part one of commitment to individual rather than to collective apostolates. Let us also suppose that the instutute is of pontifical right, that it has three canonically erected houses in three dioceses, and that its members are present in seven other dioceses in which the institute has n6 canonically erected houses. Finally, let us suppose that a member of this institute, with appropriate permission from internal authorities and fulfilling the norms of universal and proper law, is exercising an apostolate which the diocesan bishop does not wish this person to exercise in the diocese entrusted to his care. The stage is set, is it not, for the play of tensions commonly experienced between just autonomy and hierarchical structure? Without being facetious, let me suggest further that the script for this act of the play commonly has the religious entering stage left, the bishop entering stage right, and all defini-tive action coming Deus ex machina from above. The entire performance Canonical Considerations / 681 is usually viewed only through the opera glasses of a communications media well known for its ability to distort the factual while filling lacunae with unfounded conjecture. When the curtain falls, there are inevitable winners and losers, but who belongs to which category most often depends on where you were seated--center orchestra, third balcony, backstage, or in the wings. And usually the real issues have neither been well addressed nor even partially solved, while genuine Christian values, not to mention Christian people, have more than likely been forgotten or neglected or badly battered during the performance. As a canonist, this writer holds there are viable alternatives to the above scenario. For, if law does nothing else for us in the Church, it ought to at least be able to function as the impartial arbiter in cases of conflict. How well it can do this for cases such as the above, however, depends on how clearly and thoroughly obligations are both delineated in proper law and fulfilled by those responsible for them. But, to return to the case and the question at hand: Can the bishop prohibit the religious from exercising the apostolate in the diocese entrusted to his care? If you view it from the per-spective of the religious--to use familiar phraseologywthe "bad news" is that he probably can, because ultimately all religious are subject to the power of the bishop in apostolic works (c. 678 §1). The "good news" is that such a prohibition would be very difficult in some circumstances. Needless to say, if you are looking at this case from the vantage point of the bishop, the content of the answer is exactly the same: The prohibition is probably possible but possibly very difficult. The law, you see, is rather objective and can be an impartial arbiter in such matters, even though the "goodness" or "badness", attributed to the content would probably be reversed (and logically so) in the judgment of the bishop. Why is it probably possible but possibly very difficult for the bishop to forbid the religious from exercising an apostolate in the diocese entrusted to his care? The answer, to be canonically sound, requires a careful investi-gation of the canons previously mentioned. If the institute is an apostolic one, then apostolic works are part of its nature by law (c. 675). The nature of an institute as sanctioned by ecclesiastical authority is part of its patri-mony to be preserved°by all (c. 578) and contained in its constitutions (c. 587). The power to preserve this patrimony is part of an institute's legally recognized just autonomy of life, and local ordinaries are to preserve and protect this autonomy (c. 586). Regarding just autonomy of life, on the one hand, it cannot be restricted merely to internal matters or only to government. If autonomy is restricted to internal matters, then the understanding of religious life under universal law would be a dichotomized, compartmentalized one. The code takes great 682 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 pains to indicate that this is clearly not the case, and especially for the apostolic activity of apostolic institutes (cc. 662, 673, 675). Furthermore, if autonomy is restricted to the institute's internal government, then the just autonomy "especially of government" recognized in c. 586 is a meaningless phrase even canonically. On the other hand, if any apostolate is fundamental to an institute and if any autonomy in regard to this apostolate is to be recognized, then the apostolate must be clearly articulated in the institute's constitutions. If it is clearly articulated in the constitutions, and if the institute has a canon-cially erected house in the diocese, then this includes a strict right (ius) to exercise proper-law apostolate(s) of the institute from this house (c. 611 #2). Note, however, that while the institute has this right, each and every member of the institute is not necessarily free to exercise the right. Canonists do agree that, in granting consent for a religious house, a diocesan bishop can restrict some of the institute's activities for all of the members or all of the institute's activities for some of the members. But they also agree that he cannot restrict all of the institute's activities for all of the members. If he judges this extreme restriction necessary, he simply ought not to grant consent for establishing the house. Thus, in response to the case, if: - there is a constitutionally established apostolate - exercised by a member of the institute -~with proper internal permissions ~ according to universal law (i.e., legally) -. from a canonically established house -to which no general or specific apostolic restrictions have been attached, it would be very difficult for the bishop to prevent the religious from continuing the apostolic activity. The prohibition would not be impossible, however, because it is provided by c. 679, that if: - the bishop judges there is a most grave cause - after having referred the matter to the major superior - and if the major superior does not take appropriate action - the bishop can prohibit the religious from remaining in the diocese. But this action constitutes a penalty (c. 1327 §1) which means that -the procedure for application of penalties is to be followed (cc. 1341-1353) - no steps may be dispensed with (c. 87) 7 all wording must be interpreted strictly (c. 18) - the constitutions of the institute may not be violated (c. 1327 §1) and - the bishop must immediately inform the Holy See of his action (c. 679). Canonical Considerations / 683 Whence, the answer given above must contain an important qualification: The prohibition is probably possible but possibly very difficult only if the initial legal obligations regarding apostolate, houses and constitutions have been fulfilled by the institute to which the member belongs. But such is not usually the case, is it? For the most part situations arise in which it is clear that one or many of the above legal obligations have not been fulfilled and, consequently, the rights involved are not well protected. It often happens that the institute has no canonically erected house in the diocese. Then there is simply no right for the institute or any of its member to exercise any apostolate there. If they do so, they do so at the good will of the bishop who can subsequently forbid what he has previously permitted. The written agreements between diocesan bishops and competent superiors, which are now required by c. 681 when entrusting works to religious, might possibly give the religious a cause for civil-law action in the case of a breach of contract, but this could only occur if the agreements were poorly composed canonically in the first place. One might add that adhering to the require-ment for these written agreements, which are supposed to include the type of work involved, could possibly identify potential conflicts such as the above case in their incipient stages. It also often happens that a particular activity exercised by a religious is not mentioned--or at least not referred to in a specific enough manner--to definitively include it in the constitutionally approved elements of the insi-tute's apostolate. The competent internal authority by making a practical interpretation in the course of good government may judge that this specific activity is included within the constitutionally approved elements of its aposto-late. But if this practical interpretation is challenged and recourse is had to the competent external authority, the interpretation of the authority who approved the constitutions in the first place is the one that prevails. Another common occurrence is practical accommodation of an institute's mission and apostolic works by the superiors and members in accord with c. 677. An institute may adapt its apostolate from educating orphans, for instance, to educating Blacks or Hispanics. Or, again, an institute may relin-quish nursing in hospitals in order to serve in home-nursing ministries. Some-times these accommodations are not subsequently or accurately incorporated into one's constitutions by a general chapter. But legal affirmation of such adjustments is both the obligation and prerogative of general chapters accord-ing to c. 631. If general chapters do not fulfill their obligations by providing an adequate update of an institute's proper law, the "good news" and "bad news" for the religious will be rendered as mentioned above. Three other forms of apostolic accommodation are also common and can be far more problematic, namely: 684 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 (1) defining the institute's mission and apostolate in so generic a manner that almost any apostolic activity can be included in them, (2) including in the institute's mission and apostolate some activities that appear to be only indirectly connected with its patrimony, and (3) including in the institute's mission and apostolate those activities which relate closely to those prohibited for religious in universal law. It would be unrealistic--if not grandiose--to attempt a treatment here of the specifics of each of these instances, but all three can certainly be recog-nized as occasions for another play of tensions between just autonomy and hierarchical structure. In the process of approval of constitutions, competent ecclesiastical authorities often perceive these instances as fostering generic vagueness or minute inclusiveness or institutional challenges: Their response is usually to request or to mandate adjustments in wording and/or content. This is often viewed by the institutes both as a violation of their just auto-nomy and as a negation of their renewal experiences. There is no doubt that the attitudes of those involved in the dialogues concerning constitutional revision are crucial to the results. In the first case just suggested, there can be--but need not be--a real danger of dissipating an institute's resources by too extensive a diversification within a generic category, such as education or health care or social justice. In the second, there can be, but need not be, a noble attempt to "legitimize" the activity of every member, however diversified, by incorporating it by name into the institute,s proper law. In the third, there can be, but need not be, a genuine and necessary prophetic challenge to the gradually institutionalized: restrictions on Gospel imperatives. Whether competent authorities and reli-gious institutes approach these and similar situations from a stance of polari-zation and confrontation or from a stance of pluralism and constructive compromise alters the "flashpoint" of the matter involved. A "flashpoint" is the degree of flammability of combustible materials. Most readers will probably be aware that there have been many tenuous "flashpoints" approached and passed by the interaction of hierarchy and religious--as well as among religious themselves--throughout history. Such opposition and conflict, indeed, utter conflagrations at times, have been regrettable and are certainly not to be excused.4 But in the interaction of religious charism and ecclesial institution they will always be potentially present. Suggestions are sometimes made that religious institutes experiencing great charism/hierarchical tensions might opt for what is referred to as "non-canonical" status. Legally speaking "non-canonical" is a misnomer as well as an almost impossible option. Religious institutes are by law public juridic persons (c. 634, 116 §2). Canonical Considerations / 685 This means they automatically have a "canonical status" which can also be described as legal standing or public authentication within the ecclesial structure. This status is understood to guarantee the soundness of the insti-tute's charism and traditions, to empower the duly elected officers of the institute forgoverning, and to confer a mandate on the institute (and its members) for apostolic activities. It is quite clear in Church law that only the appropriate ecclesiastical authorities--namely, Diocesan ]~ishops or the Apostolic See--can erect religious institutes (cc. 576, 578-579, 589), can approve and accept the charisms of founders and foundresses (c. 578), and can officially interpret and moderate the practice of the evangelical counsels (c. 576). Any public juridic person in the Church is by law a "perpetual" entity and can be legitimately extinguished only by competent authority (c. 120 §1). The Apostolic See alone is able to suppress an institute of consecrated life once it has been canonically erected (c. 584). On the occasion of such sup-pression, the disposition of the goods of the institute, which are by law "ecclesiastical goods" (c. 1257), belongs to the Apostolic See (c. 584) unless the approved statutes of the public juridic person (i.e., the institute's proper law) provide otherwise (c. 123). Thus, the material possessions of any religious institute, as well as the final decisions regarding what is to be done with them, do not belong ultimately to the institute or to its members but to the institutional Church. Moreover, religious institutes are "collegial" public juridic persons (c. 115 §2) andas such continue to exist (unless suppressed) as long as there is one surviving member, upon whom all the rights and obliga-tions of the institute devolve (c. 120 §2). For two major reasons, therefore, it is not legally realistic for a religious institute as such to become "non-canonical" in response to the tensions experienced in the interplay of the institute's charism and hierarchical struc-tures: (1) suppression of a religious institute is difficult to accomplish and (2) truly non-canonical status is almost impossible to find. First, an institute does not have the authority to suppress itself; and it is rare that all members of an institute might opt for requesting suppression by the Apostolic See. If such were the case., however, the juridic person could totally cease to exist. But if even a few chose to remain and were allowed to do so, these few would then enjoy all the rights and assume all the obligations of the still existing original religious institute. The ecclesiastical goods of the institute would also be subject to the care and control of the remaining members according to Church law? In other words, the mem-bers of any religious institute cannot simply decide to self-destruct the juridic person and head off into the sunset, each fortified with his or her own "piece 686 / Review for Religious, September-October, 1986 of the (institutional) rock." Second, even if an institute were sup

Issue 65.3 of the Review for Religious, 2006. ; Bei~ Religiofis ~QUARTERLY 65~3 2006 Review for Religious fosters dialogue with Godi .dialogue with ourselves, and dialog4~e with one another about the holiness we tryto live according to gts~ari~s o.f Catholic religious life. As Pope Paul VI said, our way Of being dsurcb is today tlse~, way of dialogue. Review for Religious (ISSN 0034-639X) is published quarterly at Saint Louis University by the Jesuits of the Missouri Province. Editorial Office: 3601 Lindel] Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, Missouri 63108-3393 Telephone: 314-633-4610 ¯ Fax: 314-633-4611 E-Mail: review@slu.edu ¯ Web site: www.reviewforreligious.org Manuscripts, books for review, and correspondence with the editor: Review for Religious ¯ 3601 Lindell Boulevard ¯ St. Louis, MO 63108-3393 Correspondence about the Canonical Counsel department: Elizabeth McDonough OP ¯ Pontifical College Josephinmn 7625 North High Street ° Columbus, Ohio 43235 POSTMASTER Send address changes to Review for Rdigious ¯ P.O. Box 6070 ¯ Duluth, NIN 55806. Periodical postage paid at St. Louis, Missouri, and additional mailing offices. See inside back cover for information on subscription rates. ©2006 Review for Religious Permission is herewith granted to copy any material (articles, poems, reviews) contained in this issue of Review for Religious for personal or internal use, or for the personal or internal use of specific library, clients within the limits outlined in Sections 107 and/or 108 of the United States Copyright Law. All copies made under this permission must bear notice of the source, date, and copyright owner on the first page. This permission is NOT extended to copying for commercial distribu-tion, advertising, institutional promotion, or for the creation of new collective works or anthologies. Such permission will only be considered on written application to the Editor, Review for Religious. ~gournalof Catholic ~piri~uality view for religious Editor Associate Editor Canonical Counsel Scripture Scope Editorial Staff Webmaster Advisory Board David L. Fleming SJ Philip C. Fischer SJ Elizabeth McDonough OP Eugene Hensell OSB Mary Ann Foppe Tracy Gramm Judy Sharp Clare Boehmer ASC Stephen Erspamer OSB "Kathleen Hughes R$CJ Louis ~nd Angela Menard Bishop Terry Steib SVD Miriam D. Ukeritis CSJ QUARTERLY 65.3 2006 contents prisms 228 Prisms 230 coming together The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress: A Restrospective Karen M. Kennelly CSJ summarizes the thinking and the participants' interaction at the 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress held in Rome and proposes that some themes should impact local chapters and congregational meetings. ¯ Reflection and Discussion Questions 244 A New Way of Meeting . Rachael M. Harrington SNDdeN describes one carefully planned attempt to capture new life and meaning that might be incorporated into the usual chapter or congregational meeting. 226 255 meeting God Aspiratory Prayer, a Welcome Addition to Contemplative Prayer Ernest E. Larkin OCarm describes the prayer of aspiration, reviews its hisory in spirituality, identifies a few of its main proponents, and suggests ways that we might make it part of our lives. Reflection Questions Review for Religious 272 "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises Philip Shano SJ reflects upon the purpose and use of repose days within the Ignatian thirty-day retreat and raises questions for retreat directors. 283 Gerard Manley Hopkins's "Lantern out of Doors": A Contemplative Response to Loss Charles P. Farrar praises the spiritual theology of Hopkins's sonnet which describes the experience of personal loss with the metaphor of a lantern passing in the night. What first seems subjective and formulaic proves to be psychologically and theologically insightful. 293 3O4 being religious Today's Candidates: Who Are They, What Do They Expect? Raymond R. Ryan OSA allows younger members within the religious congregation to present a snapshot picture of their hopes and desires for community life and mission. These Strawberries Are Divine! Sisters and a Spirituality of Living on Earth Colleen Carpenter Cullinan provides a glimpse of the contributions of Catholic religious congregations of women in founding farms and Earth centers as places to raise organic food and educate people about the deep human connection to God's creation. Prayer / Reflection and Discussion Questions departments 319 Scripture Scope: Reading the Gospel of John 323 Canonical Counsel: Archives of Religious Communities 328 Book Reviews 65.3 2006 prisms Tintroduce the Gospel story of the Annunciation, St. Ignatius Loyola would have us picture the three divine Persons of the Trinity in dialogue about how better to accom-plish the salvation of humankind. We might describe it as the first communal discernment. The meetings that people hold when things are to be decided--meetings sometimes so contentious that they seem "eternally" long--can be seen as human strivings to imitate the wise personal planning of the Blessed Trinity. As our journal's mission statement declares, Pope Paul VI identified dialogue as a way of being church, especially in our time. Our world, with its instant communication by radio, television, Internet, and cell phone, has often taken away from us our black-and-white, simplistic judgments about who is the enemy, about who is being saved, about what other religions believe, about under-standing sexual orientations and various complex life issues, and about the cultural values of a world society. In the Old Testament's Book of Genesis, Cain's question, "Am I my brother's keeper?" has been answered definitively by our Christian faith. Jesus in giving us his one commandment allows for no wiggle room: we are to love God with all our mind, soul, and strength and our neighbor as our-selves. And loving, as all marriages and deep friendships know, takes a lot of dialoguing. We all are aware that our love of God devel-ops through a dialogue called prayer. Mthough there are many books describing some classic Re~iew for Religious forms of praying, usually drawn from the practice and example of the holy men and women preceding us, we still must make our conversation with God our own. We are not on stage, reciting lines written by some playwright. God and we share from our hearts. That is why prayer, even in its quiet moments, is always a dialogue. As in every deep human relationship, the dialogue of sharing never has an end. In fact, this signifies the promise of eternal life with God. For many of us today, meetings seem a way of life. We see it in world diplomacy, we know it in business, we par-ticipate in it in our parishes, in our religious communities, and in our neighborhood associations. Most of us desire fewer meetings, more efficiently run meetings, meetings with clearer outcomes, and meetings which bring about something better for everyone involved. For we are aware of many frustrations in communal dialogue. We have exam-ples on the international scale, on the church level, and in religious-life interworkings where dialogue breaks down or perhaps is never entered into. Just as personal dialogue with God (prayer) portends our relational life with God forever, so group dialogue in meetings, conferences, and religious chapters needs to be valued as our way of enter-ing more closely into the dialogical life of God. "Dialogue is our way of being church." We are the church. Our identity is not just in our prayer; it is lived out in the necessary human interactions of today's com-plex world. In our meetings, conferences, and religious chapters, let us work to discover how God is entering us more deeply into God's own life--a life of shared dialogue. If the incarnation is the result of our trinitarian God's meet-ing, in what ways are God and divine grace present to the world in our human meetings? David L. Fleming SJ 65.3 2006 KAREN M. KENNELLY The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress: A Retrospective coming together 230] A myriad of thoughts and images come to mind as I look back at the Congress on Consecrated Life held in Rome in November 2004: hundreds of faces, a babble of languages, colorful multinational garb, and icons of the Woman at the Well and the Good Samaritan focusing us on the congress theme, "Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity." The mixed composition of the congress made it unique. For the first time, leadership from both women's and men's congregations met in an international con-vocation to address a common agenda. Repre-sentatives of the national and international conferences of religious, groups of young religious and theologians, and editors of religious journals joined religious superiors as full participants. Karen M. Kennelly CSJ, a member of her congregation's leadership team, may be addressed at Sisters of St. Joseph of Carondelet; 2311 S. Lindbergh Boulevard; St. Louis, Missouri 63131. Review for Religious A further note of uniqueness lay in the process used to prepare for, carry out, and follow up on the meeting. Preparation spanned a four-year period involving "envisioning" and "theological summary" groups. The first group sought to achieve consensus on the actual reality of religious life today by eliciting facts and testimonials from around the world. The second analyzed the collected information from a theological perspective and summarized it in a working paper sent in advance to all congress participants. We all had an opportunity to express our preferences for small-group discussions on topics drawn from the working paper. Theologians responsible for composing the paper came from Norway, Spain, France, Italy, the United States, the Philippines, and Burkina Faso. Others, from Mexico, Germany, and Peru, collaborated via the Internet. During the congress a third or "Listeners" group gathered impressions and ideas as they were expressed in papers presented by the major speakers, in written reports from groups, and in comments from the floor. This group's work culminated in a synthesis presented to the congress on the last day. My experience as a member of the Listeners group made me aware of the congress planners' painstaking efforts to be as pluralistic and inclusive as possible, achieving active participation by those present to the extent that numbers, languages, and ~ime permitted. As with the other groups, our membership comprised about equal numbers of women and men, drawn from every continent. From day to day our dialogue grew in intensity as we listened, exchanged impressions and observations, and began identifying common threads among the multiplicity of ideas brought to the floor. The principal speakers brought unique perspectives to the assessment of contemporary religious life, beginning 6~.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 232 ] with a joint paper by two Italians, Bruno Secondin and Diana Papa, a Carmelite and a Poor Clare. They invited the 847 participants, gathered at some ninety round tables and aided by simultaneous translations into six languages, to begin the adventure of immersing themselves in the themes articulated in the working paper. Dolores Aleixandre, of Spain, a Religious of the Sacred Heart of Jesus and a theologian, brought scriptural exegesis to the congress's theme, religious life as passion for Christ and for humanity. She saw in the icons of the Samaritan Woman and the Good Samaritan "a call to center ourselves on the essential, to a different way of relating to each other, of supporting each other intercongregationally, of making room for the laity" (cited from her paper as published in Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity, Pauline Books and Media, 2005, pp. 91-125)--insights that were to be echoed frequently by congress participants in the days to come The Brazilian Jesuit Jo~o Batista Lib~nio brought a sociological and liberation-theology perspective to religious life at the beginning of the third millennium. He spoke of the vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience as having significance today only in relation to three elements: an experience of God, community life, and mission. He challenged us to rethink consecrated life from the bottom up in the light of contemporary reality with all its "ambiguity, perplexity, and paradox" (PCPH, pp. 127-171). The British Dominican Timothy Radcliffe asked "what signs religious life offers" in the wake of the World Trade Towers' destruction on 11 September 2001, an event he views as symbolic of the world in which religious life exists today, paradoxically bound ever more tightly together by instant communication and ever more deeply divided by violence (PCPH, pp. 173-189). How, he asked, Review for Religious can religious be a "sign of humanity's common home in God" in a world suffering a crisis of homelessness? What future awaits religious life in a world seemingly offering only a future of violence? What has religious life to offer as the culture of control and the struggle for hegemony intensify? A North American voice was heard in the person of an Immaculate Heart of Mary sister, Sandra M. Schneiders. She picked up on a topic Radcliffe had noted as fundamental but had not explored, namely, the culture of consumerism and our -:~ witness to poverty. Her reflections involved a discussion of how religious incarnate renunciation of the "world" and go about creating "the alternate world generated by the profession of the vows" (PCPH, pp. ' i '~ " ~ ' ' 191-218). Characterizing the . ~ . "' -' ~ . . religious lifestyle as one rooted in the "public, lifelong commitment of the members, as individuals and as communities, to a characteristic approach to material goods, power, and sexuality," she caught the assembly's imagination early in her talk with her arresting statement that she would discuss, not "the future Of religious life," but rather "religious life of the future." Schneiders's imaginative and theologically profound exploration of evangelical poverty as the "economy of the reign of God," and of prophetic obedience as the "politics of the reign of God," gave us much to think about as Vincentian Franc Rod6, prefect of the Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (CICLSAL), brought the series of formal presentations to a close with a recapitulation of major .¢":t~lig!oU~ life,'in a world ~seemingly offering only ~a~tu~e ff v~ole~ce? 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 234 themes in recent papal documents such as Hta consecrata and Novo millennio ineunte (PCPH, pp. 219-2 3 6). Participants next divided into continental groups to look at sociological factors touching upon consecrated life in their own continents, noting both positive and negative effects these factors were thought to have on the capacity of religious to be passionate for Christ and for humanity. Some of the most acute observations expressed in the congress--whether from the floor during open-microphone time or in the hastily written reports-- flowed from these gatherings. As Listeners striving to perceive the essence of group contributions, we constandy had to make allowances for the great diversity within the somewhat artificial continental categories. The Europeans prefaced their report by describing it as a "communion of intentions" and "truly an exercise in European communion," given the different languages and situations in which Europe finds itself. Asians noted the vastness of their continent and its diversity of languages, cultures, religions, and political and economic systems before commenting on their many shared concerns. The Africans' preface included this in bold type: "Note: in Africa it is not possible to generalize. There is great diversity in the situations." Those from Oceania, the smallest segment of the congress, nevertheless noted the extremes they represented: countries with predominantly Western European lifestyles and countries where the lifestyles are indigenous to Melanesia and the Pacific. Only the North American and Latin American groups dispensed with such cautions and addressed directly their shared task of identifying the impact of sociological factors on religious life as they experienced it. Themes from the continental groups that seem worthy of special attention, whether for their singularity Review for Religious or their commonality, include gender issues; war, violence, and disease; globalization; aging, institution-alization, and rigid structures; and clear signs of new life among religious. Religious from every continent saw gender issues as adversely affecting contemporary religious life. Europeans referred to "the open question of gender" and felt that, "because of the sexual abuse and the impact on the mass media, consecrated life is reduced in energy and its ability to witness: a sense of desolation pervades and passion is suppressed." Asians underscored "male North Americans were succinct in ~their assertion that "the ~ ~,!sociology' within the church is-an obstacle to the passion for Christ and for humanity." domination in society and church" and "machismo and male domination" as sociological factors adversely affecting them. The African report alluded to the problem in rather oblique fashion by noting that "the idea of relations between men and women continues to be very much determined by the culture." North Americans were succinct in their assertion that "the sociology within the church is an obstacle to the passion for Christ and for humanity. The lack of inclusivity . . . results in feelings of displacement in the church, a sense of being marginalized by many, particularly in women's communities." Those from the Latin American (and Caribbean) continental group cited as important values "awareness of the processes of exclusion and the greater involvement of women." They felt they were being called to "generate a feminine 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress religious life with more involvement and responsibility for the building of a new history and a feminine consciousness-raising that challenges the machismo in society and in the church." The Oceania report minced no words in seeing as a problem the "public face of the church: powerful, antiwomen, and hypocritical." It came as no surprise that Europeans were the most forceful in pointing out the "aging of the population, the generation gap in religious life," and "rigidity in structures, even of consecrated life" as sociological factors with negative effects on religious life. In other words, they asserted that the passion of religious for humanity is blocked by the "way in which our structures are closed and in which we are closed towards the world of the laity." Less predictable was the echoing of this view by other groups. The Asians, for example, felt that institutionalization in their region had created a gap between them and the people, "especially the poor, who identify us with the rich," and that "religious structures have stifled the spirit and dynamism of religious life. The young feel restricted and their freedom hindered by structures the old always lean on." A similar concern shows up in the African report; it lists as negative aspects "the weight of tradition" and "a way of seeing authority at the level of leaders, a traditional conception which still dominates both society and religious life." This report speaks urgently of a need for reflection on consecrated life that is distinctly African, a need to find an African way of following Christ. Such thoughts question the worth of structures inherited from a colonial past. These concerns surfaced also in the Asian group, which considered it deplorable that "Asian religious have been uprooted from their rich culture." The report from Oceania, too, alluded to rigid structures when it asserted that "restorationism" in the church, Review for Religious while attracting people looking for security, has caused consecrated life to lose credibility as a radical commit-ment to justice. The Latin Americans saw sociological factors to be causes or occasions of religious being "tamed by the institution [of religious life], tired, with little hope, disenchanted, adapting, living in indifference, [possessing] little consciousness of [consecrated life's] own identity, of its own ability to search, [experiencing] great difficulty in having deep interpersonal relationships with others and with God." They offered the intriguing possibility of countering this loss of the prophetic and mystic elements of religious life by working with the "small utopias which act in favor of humanity and in collaboration with other ecclesial, intercongregational, and extraecclesial groups that search for the same reality/values/things." The impact had on contemporary religious life by war, other forms of violence, and disease was noted by every group but particularly by the Africans, who noted the prevalence of AIDS, malaria, and other diseases and the instability resulting from wars and ethnic and religious conflicts in that continent. "Violence is growing: it questions us," said the Europeans. Asians expressed serious concern over effects of war and violence, especially in the Middle East, and over the "rise of religious fundamentalism, resulting in communal violence." North Americans deplored the "normalization of violence" and what they perceived as its causes. All groups saw globalization as exerting a great influence on society and on consecrated life today. The Africans saw it--along with urbanization, unem-ployment, and migration--as contributing to poverty at various levels. They blamed it for "hindering a deep form 237 ,i 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 238 of communication" and for contributing to a lack of reflection specifically on African consecrated life. Asians saw "elitist globalization" as having destructive effects on the poor and marginalized, on families, and especially on youth. Latin Americans described "neoliberal globalization" as destroying "what is particular to/in our countries," as especially damaging to young people, and as a spur to migration, with its multiple social dislocations. Oceania observed globalization as affecting the entire region-- countries indigenous in character and countries predominantly Western European--by widening the gap between rich and poor and "elevating greed to the status of a virtue." This summary of.the continental group reports, brief though it is, suggests a major accomplishment and a major flaw of the congress. Those present heard the voices of religious from every corner of the world with a wonderful immediacy and force. On the other hand, we simply did not have time for much dialogue of a more personal kind. Each of the continental reports, however, concluded with a very provocative section on signs of hope and of new life. Groups cited a growing sense of communion among congregations and between laypersons and religious, of the importance of personal relationships, of commitment, of community and of belonging, of greater interiority along with a lessened grip of institutionalism. Europeans made the arresting statement that secularization, despite its negative consequences, is also "causing us to love the world as it is with hope." Asians remarked that our times are ripe with opportunity: "As Asians in Asia, we have our own experience of God. By this, perhaps, we can contribute to the vitality, of religious life. It is time for rebirthing our institutes with our Asian Revie~ for Religious identity." Africans saw themselves as bringing to religious life the gifts of a deep sense of God and of the family which leads to sharing and attentiveness to one another. One young African, during the all-too-brief open microphone time in a plenary session, good-naturedly scolded his European elders for perceiving death for religious life in the future, whereas their "children" from other parts of the world, hoisted on the shoulders of their European parents, can see farther ahead to future life! North Americans ventured the opinion that aging could be looked upon as "saging," an opportunity to draw new life from the wisdom of the elderly. Diminishment, they thought, provides "a freedom to reshape religious life." Participants barely had the continental group reports in hand before moving on to topical discussions in groups ranging in size from six to over a hundred, depending on people's interests: ¯ Justice, peace, and the suffering of humanity. ¯ Inculturation--the embodiment of consecrated life in a culturally pluralistic world. ¯ Interreligious dialogue. ¯ The arts: imaging and expressing a new song. ¯ Mass media and the communication of values. ¯ Liberating the prophetic: solidarity in a world of exclusion. ¯ Liberating the prophetic: celibacy and life-giving relationships. ¯ Tilling the soil of Sacred Scripture. ¯ Thirst for God and the search for meaning. ¯ Ongoing formation for personal conversion and corporate transformation. ¯ Congregational culture. ¯ Community as mission. ¯ Partnership with the laity. ¯ Leadership and authority. ¯ The ecclesial dimensions of consecrated life. Although the time allocated for these discussions was brief, each topic was based on material in the working paper 65.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress 24:0 distributed well in advance of the meeting. Participants came prepared and were assigned their first choice among the three topics in which they had indicated interest before coming. As a result, they shared many thoughtful insights with one another; a summary appears in Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity (pp. 237-241). Those of us present for the congress received the somewhat longer reports composed by group reporters on site. Some Conclusions For me, the challenge posed by the congress was at the time and remains today one of assimilation and communication. The rich papers presented by speakers, along with participants' voices as reflected in reports by the continental and topical groups, left our table of Listeners with the nearly impossible task of assimilating content and shaping it into a synthesis at the final session. Our summary, "What the Spirit Says Today to Consecrated Life," compressed into an hour's oral delivery the reflection and discernment that had absorbed us during the entire congress. Rather than repeat that synthesis (see PCPH, pp. 243- 255), I want to share what stand out for me a year later as the two most significant messages conveyed by this unique gathering. The first is that the Spirit is at work among us today, regardless of how old or young we are as religious, no matter how old or young our congregations, and no matter whether we come from north, south, east, or west. The second is that a contemplative approach is required of the members of our congregations if we are to discern what the Spirit is saying to us at this critical moment of our history, some forty years since Vatican Council II invited religious to renew their lives in the light of the gospel, their foundational charisms, and the signs of the times. Review for Religious The Spirit calls us to revive the enchantment, the passion, we had when we first responded, as congregations and as individuals, to Jesus' call to love God and our neighbor with all our heart. The Spirit calls us to personal and institutional renewal, to inculturation and to interreligious dialogue. The Spirit calls us to an inclusive attitude toward the laity, .and this, in turn, calls for new structures and a new language expressive of the inner reality Of our consecrated life. The Spirit calls us to esteem personal relations over structure, and to develop ourselves as religious capable of loving human relationships. We are called by Jesus to be passionate and to exercise ",~ and alfenation,of any kind. compassion toward others, particularly toward all who suffer the indignities of poverty, discrimination, and alienation of any kind. The congress experience brought home to me anew that we are living through, a period of vast and deep change in consecrated life--a sort of gestation period heavy with the promise of new birth. The seeds have been planted in good ground and are being warmed and watered by the life-bearing winds of the Spirit. We have only to tend the garden and pay attention with a discerning eye to the sprouts of new life lest we uproot them as noxious weeds.before they have a chance to flower and bear fruit. 6Y.3 2006 Kennelly ¯ The 2004 Consecrated-Life Congress Our congregations are being called to collaborate with the Spirit in bringing to birth the consecrated life of the future. It was apparent at the congress---its participants a cross section of more than six hundred congregations of women and men from all over the world--that the vision, the hopes, and the sense of urgency are widely shared. The modes of discernment and dialogue will necessarily differ from country to country, depending on culture and opportunity, but the desire for intra- and inter-congregational reflection and collaboration is present among religious in every continent. As a practical matter, I would urge congregations to take advantage of their forthcoming chapters to follow up on major themes explored at the congress. Chapters are periodically convened by every congregation; agendas and processes can readily be shaped to facilitate the kind of individual and corporate reflection we need and desire. Although successful use of this option is not without difficulties, it would seem to offer .the best chance for congregations to address the congress message in a timely way, and to seek the implications of that message for themselves. Clearly there are a few obstacles to surmount if we are to facilitate contemplative chapters that make good use of the theological and sociological perspectives offered at the congress. International congregations, whose members often constitute a microcosm of the multicultural 2004 gathering in Rome, in many cases still experience subtle Western attitudes that prevent the kind of dialogue modeled by the congress. Smaller local congregations may need to push beyond parochial concerns to help members achieve a broader vision and seek greater goals. But all must beware of a tendency toward activism, the preoccupation with doing rather than being that marks our contemporary world. Review for Religious Whether we come from large or small congregations, from apostolic, monastic, or contemplative "families" of religious; whether we can trace our history back for centuries or only a few years; and whether we are Americans, Europeans, Asians, Africans, or Oceanians, we are all called by the Spirit to use the congress and our own experience as a springboard to dive into the deep pool of Holy Mystery in which we religious live and move and have our being. It is for us at this crucial point in our history to delve deeper, to listen, to reflect, to dialogue, and to discern the spiritual realities of the life and mission we share as religious, to ask ourselves how we need to be if we are to do the works of persons passionate for Christ and passionate for humanity. Suggested Reading Passion for Christ, Passion for Humanity, Pauline Books and Media, 2005. Reflection/Discussion Questions 1. As I/we read the responses from the different continental groups regarding the future of religious life, which response gave me/us new insight and which response would I/we want to discuss further? 2. How can we take advantage of the "aging" of religious life members in our country to draw upon their wisdom ("saging') for our apostolic life and direction? 3. What practical steps do I/we need to take in order to adopt a more contemplative approach to listen to and follow the movements of the Spirit within our religious life context? 6Y.3 2006 RACHEL M. HARRINGTON A New Way of Meeting 244 Dissatisfaction with the timeworn chapter for-mula for the meetings of our congregation, the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur, as an international congregation of pontifical right resulted in a mandate from the 2002 chapter for us, the newly elected congre-gational leadership team, to explore new ways of assem-bling that took account of our multicultural identity. The dissatisfaction focused on the number and variety of pro-posals submitted for chapter discussion, the abundance of paper generated before, during, and after each chapter, and the dominance of the Western cultural model for meeting and discussion. Canon law offers little help. In accordance with the principle of subsidiarity, it provides for each institute the right to establish its own legislation for chapters pro-vided this falls within certain norms. Our constitutions, approved in 1989, contain several articles and directives for conducting chapters, no more restrictive, we think, Rachel M. Harrington SNDdeN is a member of the generalate lead-ership team of the Sisters of Notre Dame de Namur. Their address is Via Raffaello Sardiello, 20; 00165 Roma, Italy. Review for Religio~s than many, and certainly tried and tested and not lightly to be discarded. One suggestion, superficially attractive, was to separate the chapter of affairs from the chapter of elections. Our general treasurer pointed out a major flaw in this proposal: chapters are expensive meetings. So we continued to talk and dream. Our directives, or rather the traditional interpretation of them, provide for a "midchapter" meeting,, an inter-national gathering at the midpoint between chapters. Beyond prescribifig that at this time the congregational leadership and the provinces evaluate their implemen-tation of the constitutions, there are no further direc-tives. So, with some trepidation, we determined on this midchapter meeting as our chance to experiment. We decided to offer two sisters from each province the opportunity to experience a different type of gathering. We hoped to stimulate creative thinking to improve the next chapter in 2008. We began in May 2003 by writing a letter to each sister in the congregation, inviting her to respond to three questions. We based the questions on one of the constitutions from the section on chas.tity: Our celibacy, deepened and enriched by God's love and that of our sisters, bears fruit in a love which reaches beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation. It enables us to be free to go wherever we may be called in the ser-vice of God's kingdom of justice, peacei and love. We asked each sister how she felt that this constitu-tion had been realized in her life and what helps or hin-drances our community had ,given her in reaching "beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation." We encouraged sisters to respond alone or after group dis-cussion. To avoid burdening province leadership, we sug-gested that all responses be posted uncollated to the congregational leadership in Rome. We assembled an 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting We wondered how many sisters would take, the troublet~, respond to our lettel~/ and we were overwhelmed by the number Who dld).~ 246 international planning group to help us review the responses. Membership of such groups is often pre-dictable, so we made a point of inviting sisters without previous experience of working on international groups, and, instead of looking for organizational skills, we looked rather for a different order of talents. To our delight, all of the sisters whom we approached accepted our invitation. In October 2004 we met in Rome: an economist teaching in a Kenyan university, a patristic theologian from a British univer-sity, a psychologist from Peru, a theolo-gian from Congo, an artist-liturgist from Britain, a photogra-pher with poetic writ-ing skills from the United States, and a musical-artist-liturgist from Zimbabwe. On our own team we had two cultural anthropologists, from the U.S.A. and Congo, a biblical theologian from the U.S.A., an educationist from the U.S.A., and a canon lawyer from Britain. We needed to give very little thought to the selection of facilitators; we knew whom we wanted. Sister Gabrielle Stuart RSM and Sister Mary Harrington SUSC had run facilitation workshops for leadership in Rome, and we had benefited from their expertise. That they were free and willing to be with us in this experiment was a huge encouragement.1 Traditionally our chapters are held in the U.S.A. or Europe and our midchapters in Africa or Latin America. In 1998 the midchapter took place in Peru, and so we Review for Religious selected Kenya for 31 July to August 2005. We invited a British sister serving there to be the on-site coordina-tor and to attend the Rome planning meeting. We wondered how many sisters would take the trou-ble to respond to our letter, and we were overwhelmed by the number who did, almost half the congregation. Considering the many who were too old or sick, this was way beyond our expectations. We spent the first day of the meeting reading these responses, with a checHist of questions: How do I feel? What do I think? What sur-prised me? What delighted me? What became clearer? What shocked me? What insights did I gain? What ques-tions remain? Reading the responses moved us all deeply. Our sis-ters had responded sincerely, from the depths of their experiences as celibate women working for the poor in a variety of situations. Most acknowledged a deepening of their understanding of the call to religious life as they took risks and endured suffering, separations, rejections, and misunderstanding. All expressed gratitude for the years spent in the congregation and for the richness of life offered by membership in an international group. We compiled our reactions and, after much discus-sion guided by the facilitators, agreed upon a goal for the midchapter meeting: to enable participants to explore, express, celebrate, and live the goodness of God in a love which reaches beyond the limits of family, tribe, or nation. Our foundress, St. Julie Billiart, bequeathed to us the charism of striving to discover and become the very goodness of God in the world, and, as we read the responses of our sisters, we realized how much this was integrated into their lives. A statement made about Julie by a contemporary cardinal in Belgium, "A spark from out the heart of Christ fell upon the heart of a woman who knew how to believe and how to love," somehow 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting 248!I captivated our thoughts as we read, and we decided to use "Sparks from the Heart of Christ" as the theme of the midchapter meeting. With the facilitators' help, we sorted ourselves into four groups: theologians, social scientists, the "fire department" (the liturgists), and the planners. We drew up questions which, as a result of our reading, we felt needed to be answered, and then we allocated tasks to each group. Everyone with a relevarit area of expertise agreed to present a paper in Nairobi on that topic to stimulate discussion. From April 2003 we spent some time at leadership meetings--held once a year on the Continent and twice a year in the U.S.A.--talking about our hopes for the meeting and encouraging the provincial leaders to choose as representatives one sister from each province who had no previous international experience and was willing to "go with the process." We also wanted one member of each leadership team to attend, so that any implementa-tion or follow-up would proceed smoothly. Although we never used the word '~delegate," and although we stressed repeatedly that this was not a chapter and not a deci-sion- making meeting, not everyone heard this. Shortly after our October 2004 planning meeting, the congress "Passioh for Christ, Passion for Humanity" took place in Rome within walking distance of our gen-eralate. As well as welcoming many of the participants to our home, we were able to access the papers on the Internet in four languages and encouraged our sisters to do likewise. Unfortunately, Internet access across the globe varies considerably, and so not all were able to take advantage of this resource. Attempting to compen-sate for this, we excerpted a couple of passages from the working paper and suggested that sisters meet in groups to discuss how they experienced the charism of our con- Review for Religious gregation in the light of their reflections on these pas-sages. We encouraged those chosen as representatives to bring the fruits of these discussions to the meeting in Nairobi. We hoped that this task would keep interest alive in the proposed meeting and enable the represen-tatives to feel that they were coming prepared. The planning group assembled in Nairobi with the facilitators on 30 July 2005, the day before the others were due to arrive. By this time we had added our gen-eral secretary and the director of our mission office to the group. We held the meeting in the Dimesse Sisters' Centre in Karen-Nairobi. Contrary to our hopes, we were unable to move in until after noon on the day we had hoped to begin. One of our biggest problems, shared by all interna-tional congregations, is that of language. We had arranged local translators for . French and Spanish, but Flemish, Italian, Portuguese, and Japanese are more difficult to provide for, especially as only relatively few sisters speak only these lan-guages. People skilled in simul-taneous translation are expensive, and we also need others who can provide necessary written trans-lations fairly rapidly. We are con-stantly learning in this area and are extremely grateful to those sisters who, proficient in two languages, generously help in translating. We mar-vel at the patient endurance of those who spend days on end listening through earphones. In social situations, as well as during the sessions, many struggled heroically to communicate across the language barriers using gestures and the few words they could manage. We provided play- 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ ~l New ~Va~ of Meeting ing cards, jigsaw puzzles, and games without words to encourage this interaction. We had invited sisters from Japan, Nigeria, the U.S.A., and Congo to help with translation and secre-tarial tasks, so altogether we numbered sixty. Every day a brief account of the meeting, composed by one of these, was sent out on our congregational Intranet in English, French, and Spanish. Access to computers was limited, but whenever they could most participants sent home enthusiastic accounts of their experiences. As we began the meeting, each province brought some "report" on their reflections about our charism; several of these were poetic or beautifully presented in visual form. During our sixteen days together we had an enormous variety of experiences, most of which involved sharing our thoughts and feelings about specific ques-tions with a sister from another culture. The facilitators guided us into these moments, which were often deep and moving, with rituals involving simple gestures, gen-tle dances, and repetitive chants celebrated around ever-changing focal points in the meeting room. As the days went on, art work created in the course of the meeting was displayed on the walls of our meeting room--pic-tures, words, designs, charts--all reflecting our moods, our perceptions of our province realities, problems we faced, questions that we raised. Over the course of the two weeks, one of our cul-tural anthropologists gave us an illuminating presentation on "unpacking culture"; the other spoke of how African myths speak of God's goodness. The theologians pre-sented talks on the goodness of God from their varied perspectives, as revealed in the Bible, in African forma-tion programs, in living religious life in Congo, and as expressed in community life in the 4th-century church. The psychologist talked on "Chastity: A Love Which Review for Religious Goes beyond the Limits." All were translated later and made available to the whole congregation. Our economist assembled three university lecturers who made brief presentations on Kenya's progress (or lack of it) towards the United Nations' millennium devel-opment goals in regard to health, education, and the environment. A fourth panelist, representing an organi-zation that works with nongovernmental organizations, spoke about the frustrations he faces in his work, where the ideal partnership between aid organizations and gov-ernments falls far short of being realized. The four stayed on for the whole morning to lead group discussions and answer questions. The sisters from each province also spoke about their ministries and tried to communicate the realities of their daily lives. Most moving were the testimonies from the war-torn Democratic Republic of Congo and from Zimbabwe. When we had afternoons off, those who wished were taken in small groups to visit various pro-jects in housing and employment, schools (including the famous Starehe boys' school and its newborn sister school for girls), and the homes of people from Saint Mary and Joseph's, the parish where some of our sisters live and work. Other optional outings were to a safari park or to see Karen Blixen's (Isak Dinesen's) home, famous from the film Out of Africa. Two of the most memorable excursions were for Mass. On the first Sunday we went to Saint Mary and Joseph's, where we were welcomed in truly memorable fashion by the parish priest and by the "mother of the parish," who told us we were all their daughters. The dancing was led by small girls all attired in snowy white tee shirts advertising U.S. baseball teams. The choir was amazing and untiring, and the packed church sang along and swayed and clapped throughout the three-hour cel- 6Y.3 2006 Harrington * A New Way of Meeting ebration. The ladies of the parish had prepared dinner, so we moved the benches around to form tables and sat down to a lavish feast of beef stew, rice, and beans. On the second occasion we were hostesses to those who came to celebrate with us the opening of our novi-tiate in Langata, Nairobi, our fourth in Africa, and a real benchmark in the history of the province. We sat outside under awnings during the Mass celebrated by the bishop; afterwards the house was blessed and a flame tree planted. The meal, prepared outside in huge pots over open fires, was enjoyed by all. In the last days of our meetings, we focused on ques-tions that had arisen during our sharings, and we brain-stormed about how to prepare for the next chapter. During the closing In the. last~ days,(~our'tneet.in~s;~rz-~ we focused on"questio~.~ ~ . h.'afl:~[ ["~ arisen duringour shariftgs, ' and we brainstormed about how, to prepare for the°ne~.t:chapt~e~(.i~ to women after any meeting. We reverently and ceremoniously placed these artifacts on the floor around the centerpiece a mock fire, built around a candle, with sparkles scattered about. Then we were all invited to collect a prayer card and some sparkles and to light a candle from the cen-tral flame. To do this we had to walk toward the center and then away, through the spread-out paintings, pic-tures, charts, designs, and pre.sentations~a sort of sym-bolic acceptance of all that had taken place and been ritual we thanked all planners and participants. We removed the vari-ous artifacts we had displayed on the walls, per-forming the clear-ing- up ritual that is traditionally left Review for Religious shared over the previous two weeks and a commitment to carry the experience home. At the beginning of the meeting we had been reminded that in this meeting no decisions would be taken: we were there to experience what it means to belong to an international, multicultural, multilingual congregation. Nonetheless, some few in their evalua-tions expressed wonderings about the apparent lack of an agenda. We knew this was a risk. There was general dissatisfaction with the three celebrations of Mass which we had together during the meeting days--not the Sundays. Bringing in clergy, out of touch with what we were experiencing together, was felt to be artificial and awkward. Communion services led by ourselves might have proved more meaningful. Some found the days long and tiring. Most wrote that this had been a life-changing experience, creating bonds across cultures and languages, inspiring hope, and providing memories to last a life-time. The deep exchanges about cultural differences gave all of us new perspectives. Throughout we had been dependent on our two facil-itators, whose style pleased all but three of those pre-sent. Every day began with a review of the purpose of the meeting, of our hopes and concerns, and of the val-ues and behaviors we intended to live by during the meeting. After the morning ritual, there was a report on the questions raised, the previous day. At day's end we gathered in our "home groups" (the same multicultural group for the entire meeting), shared our day's experi-ences, and arrived at issues or questions for the coordi-nating committee to resolve. This committee, five members of the original planning group, met with the facilitators each day for forty-five minutes after the evening ritual, discussed the matters arising from the home groups, and planned the next day. When we eval- 65.3 2006 Harrington ¯ A New Way of Meeting uated our work, we realized thatthere were things we could have done differently and better. We had learned from our experience and from the feedback---another purpose of the meeting realized. The big anxiety of all present was how to communi-cate the fruits of the meeting to the sisters at home. We had papers and photographs, but these were two-dimen-sional, having meaning mainly for the participants. Carrying home fragile "sparks from the heart of Christ" challenges each of us to a new way of being, of believing, and of loving so that the sparks will ignite others and kindle new flames to spread the awareness of God's good-ness in all the events and circumstances of our lives. Note ' They can be contacted at GLOIR; 27 Catherine Street; Newry, Co. Down; BT35 6JG, Northern Ireland. E-mail: gloirinstitute@btopenworld.com Glass It's as if Benedict's single ray of light is scattered across the tables like loose jewels or a broken mirror. We sweep and pick through trays of glass, sharp bits of orange and yellow with a blue that's almost black until I hold it to the light, and I am full of a temporary completeness. Even the thunder seems gentle. Alicia Kleiman OSB Review for Religious ERNEST E. LARKIN Aspiratory Prayer, a Welcome Addition to Contemplative Prayer Aspirations (aspiratory prayer) were a treasure in' European Christianity in the late Middle Ages and one of the great legacies of the Touraine Reform in 17th-century France. This reform took place in "les Grands Carmes," the popu-lar name in France for the Carmelites of the Ancient Observance (OCarm). The style of prayer that goes by the name of aspirative or aspiratory prayer, or simply aspiration, is almost unknown in contemporary spirituality. The pre-sent article is a move to fill this lacuna and to suggest how the prayer of aspirations can con-tribute to the contemplative renewal of our times. I will first give an overview of the prayer in tradition and highlight its three outstanding proponents: the 13th-century Carthusian Hugh of Balma, the Franciscan Henry Herp (+1477), and the Carmelite John of St. Samson (1571- Ernest E. Larkin OCarm last wrote in our 64.4 issue (2005). His address remains St. Agnes Catholic Church; 1954 North 24th Street; Phoenix, Arizona 85008. 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspirator)/Prayer 1636). Finally I shall make some suggestions on how to revive the practice. What Is Aspiratory Prayer? Aspiratory prayer is a warm, human approach to God that is inexorably affective. It proceeds by way of fer-vent desires of the heart. It was considered a shortcut, a direct route, to intimacy and oneness with God. Its struc-ture is simple: frequent and intense desires breathed out to God. It has only one goal, union with God, so it ceases to have a role when mystical union is achieved. Aspirations are not the same as ejaculations, though they are like each other. E aculatory prayer.describes any to this prayer? ,.:Those and all brief prayers sent like darts to heaven for help, thanksgiving, adora-tion, or any other good motive. "My Jesus, mercy" is an ejaculation. Aspira-tions are only and always passionate desires or fer-vent acts of love of God. They are expressed in words or sighs or silence. "My God, I love you" is an aspiration. To aspire means to breathe out, with the con-notation of breathing hard after something. In aspira-tory prayer one breathes out heartfelt desires for God. It is yearning for God, like gasping for God. Aspiratory prayer is simple and focused, though in the beginning it may cover a wide sweep of emotions and feelings. Practice simplifies and unifies the faculties to give them a single thrust, much as the prayer of sim-plicity consolidates the multiple affections of affective prayer into a single attitude of loving presence. Aspiratory prayer sets the heart on one goal, divine Review for Reli~io~ union, and is a positive step in that direction. Not every-body can use it. It is not for beginners, but for those who have come to know God and themselves through Bible reading, reflection, and loving conversations with God. When a person has put her house in order and has come to love God in truth, she is ready for this prayer. For those who love God, it will become as natural as breathing. Catholic teachers in the past were sticklers in assign-ing different prayer forms to different stages of growth. The prayer of beginners was discursive meditation and affective prayer, that is, first much thinking and ~hen many affections. The next stage was contemplative, and it featured forms like simply looking at the tabernacle as in the Cur6 d'Ars' "I look at him and he looks at me," or today's resting in God in centering prayer, or saying the mantra as in Christian Meditation. Today we prob-ably pay less attention to the degrees of prayer, though we still honor them. Centering prayer and Christian Meditation have democratized contemplative prayer. Certainly some knowledge and love of the Lord is pre-supposed for contemplative prayer, but a little knowl-edge and love go a long way. Those who are comfortable with centering prayer and Christian Meditation will be at home with aspirations. Who, then, are called, to this prayer? Those who are fervent and serious about their relationship with God and have a great desire for intimacy with God. They are look-ing for the "more." The classical teaching placed the prayer in the illuminative way as part of the contempla-tive life. Two categories are involved here, and both are second stages: the illuminative comes between the purga-tive and the unitive way, and the contemplative life between the active and the mystical life. The three divi-sions correspond to beginners, the proficient, and the 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer perfect. Active life has to do with external behavior, con-templative with inner prayer, and the mystical life with high sanctity. The purgative way is concerned with con-version and purification, the illuminative way with enlightenment, and the unitive with union with God. The three ways and their content are criticized today for being too dependent on Neoplatonic philosophy, the system that canonized the immaterial and denigrated the bodily.' Aspirative prayer rises above this controversy and in fact is a corrective against exaggerated spiritual-ism and minimizing the physical and bodily in the spir-itual life. Aspirations welcome and embrace the emotional and the sensible; these human qualities lead to the highest realms of the spirit. They move the experi-ence of God away from the intellectual and into the realm of affection and love.2 Aspiratory prayer comes out of the same tradition as centering prayer and Christian Meditation. The latter two are contemporary constructions from that contem-plative tradition, a development that aspiratory prayer has yet to find. But all three systems appeal to the same sources, the same authors, and even the same texts for their grounding and justification.3 This fact and their constant location in the middle stage of spiritual devel-opment argue to their commonality. Centering prayer and Christian Meditation seek silent presence and quiet resting in God. At the same time they are active prayer, rightly called meditation of a nondiscursive or contemplative type. They are not clas-sical contemplation in the sense of infused prayer, but are products of human effort and ordinary grace. Aspiratory prayer is obviously active in the same sense. It uses the language of intense, passionate love and expresses the yearning of the heart and delights to rest in the Lord. Review for Religious Aspiratory prayer is more than loving conversation with God. It expresses a strong act of the will that desires to experience God. So it is more than a t&e-a-t&e, even in the loving language of affective colloquy. The differ-ence is intensity. Affective prayer engages the feelings but in a diffuse way, whereas a strong will and urgent longings for intimacy dominate aspiratory prayer. Aspirations fit nicely into the perspectives and prac-tice of "love mysticism," which is a form of relating to God in spousal love. The language of spousal love is very human, amorous, and passionate. Its biblical source is the Song of Songs or St. John's Gospel, and it is a fre-quent feature in medieval women mystics and also in writers like St. Bernard or St. John of the Cross. Janet K. Ruffing has written a guide for the spiritual direction of those called to this way. She gives many examples of its language, one of which is the following conversation in Mechthild of Magdeburg, who says to God: "God, you are my lover, / my longing, / my flowing stream, / my sun, / and I am your reflection." And God replies: "It is my nature that makes me love you often, / for I am love itself. / It is my longing that makes me love you intensely, / for I yearn to be loved from the heart. / It is my eter-nity that makes me love you long, / for I have no end.''4 Aspirative prayer is not limited to spousal love. It is at home with a nonspousal love of God, which Janet Ruffing calls simply apophatic. The mysticism of the more matter-of-fact Cloud of Unknowing features whole-hearted love, often without obvious passion. In this lat-ter case the love is sublimated into disinterested love in a style of relationship that is reserved and controlled. Mystics in this pattern will practice their own brand of aspirations. Aspiratory prayer is thus a technical term, but it is not "one size fits all." Its normal form is sensible-spiri- 6~ .3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratorg/Prayer 260[ tual love. For Henry Herp only this love qualifies as aspi-ration. For him its follow-up, which is pure spiritual love, is not aspiration, but unitive love. John of St. Samson, however, treats pure spiritual love as a form of aspiration, and for him this higher aspiration leads one into the furnace of God's love in transforming union. For both authors the will is the driving force for aspira-tions and for unitive love. In sensible-spiritual love the sensibility is the carrier, but the momentum comes from the will, which makes the love truly spiritual. Do not think that the practitioner lives on a perpet-ual high. The expression Of loving desires for God con-tinues in down days and dryness as much as in times of sweetness and sensible consolation. The feeling element is still there. It must be genuine, not faked or pretended or forced. Th~r~se of Lisieux is a perfect example of the expression of passionate desires of love for God in the darkest moments of life.5 There are degrees of the practice corresponding to the person's habitual love of God and the grace of the moment. John of St. Samson sees it as leading directly into a mystical expression, in which the Holy Spirit breathes out enflamed desires for God. His conditions for practicing this prayer are demanding. Persons who take up the practice must be mortified, humble, and self-effac-ing as well as robust in health. In his view aspirations go beyond the enthusiasm of a newly baptized Pentecostal or charismatic and belong to persons advanced in the love of God and on fire for the summit. The History and Theology of Aspiratory Prayer Aspiratory prayer flourished in the late Middle Ages in northern Europe, especially the Rhineland and France, from the 13th to the 17th century. At the time of the Touraine Reform, the practice was common in popular Review for Religious religious culture. Aspirative prayer appealed to the archi-tects of Touraine because they saw the practice as dove-tailing with their view of the goal of the Carmelite order, which was to live continuously in the loving presence of God.6 Intimations of aspiratory prayer are found in the New Testament, in St. Augustine and John Cassian, who were contemporaries, in St. Benedict and Guigo II, and in other early authors. The first to give aspirative prayer a central place in the spiritual life was Hugh of Balma, whose Tbeologia Mystica exerted wide influence, partly because it was thought to be the work of St. Bonaventure. Hugh of Balina taught the way of the heart, and aspira-tory prayer was its chief expression. First one must know one's weak self and the goodness of God, since anyone filled with self is unable to yearn for God. This knowl-edge prepares one to rise up to God in "anagogic con-templation." Anagogic contemplation means moving from crea-ture to Creator, from the text of Scripture to the living God, enflamed with desire and love. Such is aspiratory prayer. The love is both natural-spiritual and purely spir-itual, and God is the direct object. The love increases with the simplification and unification of the faculties until ultimately there is mystical union with the Trinity in the high point of the soul called the apex mentis. Henry Herp and John of St. Samson will pick up on these per-spectives and expand them with the help of Jan van Ruusbroec's theology (1293-1381). Hugh had many imitators, especially among the Carthusians, who promoted and developed this teach-ing so effectively that Everard Mercurian, an early gen-eral of the Jesuits, warned the Society about "the Carthusian method of prayer" for fear that its popular-ity would marginalize Ignatian prayer in Spain.7 The 6Y.3 2006 Larkin * Aspiratory Prayer 14th-century anonymous English text The Cloud of Unknowing is likely a Carthusian document, both because it can easily be interpreted as a full exposition of aspira-tory prayer and because its anonymous author may well be .a Carthusian.8 A number of familiar quotations from the book are obviously formulas of aspiratory prayer. Henry Herp OFM (+1447) Henry Herp wrote the first synthesis of the whole spiritual journey around the topic of aspirative prayer. His map is the structure of the soul as delineated by the great Flemish mystical writer Henry Herp wrote the first synthesis'of the~ around the topici of ~aspirativ~ prayer. : ~ o o Jan van Ruusbroec. The soul is three concentric circles, each of them representing a different level of human activity. Herp offers a detailed plan for moving through the outer two levels and arriving at the inner circle of highest union with the Holy Trinity. He lays down instructions for each of the phases of the journey, but his chief contri-bution is to show how aspirative prayer moves one through the middle circle. Ruusbroec calls the three circles "spheres" or "uni-ties," whereas Herp names them mansions or dwelling places like Teresa of Avila. The first is the region of the senses, the second that of the spirit, and the third the "fond" or ground, the dwelling place of the Holy Trinity. One must traverse each level to get to the center, and the way is introversion, a concept that goes back to St. Augustine. Herp calls it "ascension." Persons "ascend," that is, they are lifted up by a sweeping action that carries them through the given circle and toward Review for Religious the center; the searcher for God leaves behind the lesser level or part of it in favor of the higher one. This process of introversion means making the powers on each level converge toward the center. The activity of each level is collapsed into the next step. In this imagery the outer circle of exterior behavior is introverted into the mid-dle circle, and in the middle the lower faculties of the irascible and concupiscible appetites, and of reason and free will, are introverted into the spiritual faculties of intellect, memory, and will. These latter will finish the task and bring the soul into mystical union in the center. The introversion or ascension starts with the outer or exterior circle, which represents the active life. The means set down by Herp for this first introversion are "truth and compassion." Truth means understanding the goodness of God and the bankruptcy of the human, and compas-sion is appreciating God's love and attractiveness. The middle level is the field for aspiratory prayer and unitive love. Aspirations address the "interior infe-rior powers," especially the concupiscible appetite, which in Herp's view has a spiritual quality about it. Unitive love is exercised by the spiritual faculties. Understanding guides the process: hence the importance of regular med-itation and of the use of prepared ejaculations that recall the supreme attraction of God and serve to inflame the soul with love. The awakened will moves the sensory faculties to yearn for God, progressively spiritualizing the person for the work of unitive love, For Herp, uni-tive love takes over the task begun in the lower interior faculties. The acts of pure, unitive love finish the task of the introversion of the spirit level and open the way to the center. In the center the love is fruitive love. The contemplative way is left behind, and the soul now lives the "super-essential life" of oneness with the Trinity, a union that is not ontological but psychological. ¯ ,263 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer Herp offers some good pastoral advice. The stages are to be addressed in order and none can be skipped. Basic conversion is presupposed for undertaking aspira-tory prayer, and that means an adult knowledge of God and one's self and the acquisition of the moral virtues. Aspiratory prayer begins with rote expressions of love and fervor. According to Herp, these feelings crescendo into what he calls an explosion of love, which has its own danger of entrapping the person in the delightful, sen-sible sweetness. The love is gradually purified and becomes the unitive love that will lead the soul into the center. Unitive love too undergoes its own purifications, and the follow-up experiences may be as dark and dry as the initial entry was exalted. The challenge at this point, as at every point in the spiritual life, is marginal-izing the self, that is, letting go of everything that is not God. The holy soul practicing spiritual love will con-tinue to work at the total gift of self to God, and its tasks are listed by Herp as self-offering, searching for God's will, letting God's love destroy all defects, and being united with God. John of St. Samson (1571-1636) John of St. Samson is an immensely important figure in the Carmel of the Ancient Observance. He was a mys-tic of profound experience, and, in spite of the blindness that afflicted him from the age of three, he was well edu-cated and well read, keeping in touch with currents of spirituality in the very rich 17th century. He has been called the French John of the Cross and is highly esteemed by religious historians like Henri Bremond and Louis Cognet. John of St. Samson lived a century and a half after Herp, but Herp's work was well known to him in the numerous Latin and French translations and in the Review for Religious plethora of spiritual writings that popularized aspiratory prayer. John of St. Samson became expert in the teach-ing of this way, building on Herp but adding his own points of view. There had been a lot of writing, but lit-tle development since Herp. After a careful comparison of the two authors, Canisius Janssen concludes that John's doctrine is Herp in a new packaging. "Certain things have been left out," he writes, "others developed; in short the whole has acquired a new face.''9 John belongs to the same Dutch school of mys-ticism as Herp, both of them appropriating the worldview of Ruusbroec. We come from God as created images in the Uncreated Word, and our life goal is to return to our place in the Word in full consciousness of our unity in God. The goal is put I ," bY engaging oi r feetings t " : and iemo.tions. I as well as'our spiriL rather abstractly as "the state of consummation of the subject in the Object" in a "union without difference or distinction." Such is the transforming union, in which the soul is caught up in the fire of the divine life. The way to the goal is introversion according to the same divisions as in Henry Herp, but with the adaptations in nomenclature. John is particularly eloquent is explaining how spir-itual love guides the whole process of introversion once aspirations become the way. Spiritual love is at the heart of sensible-spiritual aspirations, and it constitutes the spiritual aspirations that lead one into the center itself. Aspirations have the genius of putting our full humanity to work by engaging our feelings and emotions as well as 6~.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspirator)/Prayer 266 our spirit. Sensible love is the starter, and it houses the spiritual love in sensible-spiritual aspirations. When the aspirations become "more vigorous, more on fire, and more detached from sense," they are pure spiritual love. This spiritual love, with or without a sensible compo-nent, is the engine that drives the introversion process into the furnace that is God. Aspiration thus has a mystical quality in John, as is clear from the following quotation: Aspiration is not only an affectionate colloquy. ; that is what aspiration is born of and comes forth from. Aspiration, then, is an outpouring of the whole heart and spirit on fire with love. By it the soul quickly tran-scends itself and all of creation, becoming intimately united with God in the intensity of its loving expres-sion. Expressing itself quintessentially in this way, the soul transcends all tender, sensible, cerebral, and com-prehensible love, reaching by the vehemence of God's spirit and its own effort, not just any divine union, but a sudden transformation of its spirit into God. In the abounding and ineffable sweemess of God him-self lovingly embracing one's spirit, it transcends, I say, all familiar and intelligible love. This is the essence of aspiration, in itself, in its cause, and in its effect.1° Heart (that is, the sensibility) and spirit (that is, the loving will) are the framers of aspirations, and heart even-tually recedes in favor of pure spirit. In the beginning there will be multiplicity of thought and feelings, but with growth this richness will give way to ever increas-ing simplicity and a state of pure elevation in God. Intensity is of the essence, since only strong love can break the attachments of the faculties to their natural objects. Frequency is a necessary quality, since the goal is to make aspirations like second nature, as natural as breathing. Humility too is the essential underpinning of all true love. But in all these efforts balance and moder-for Religious ation must prevent any violence or excessive force. John of St. Samson, experienced spiritual director, has good advice on how to begin and how to grow in this beauti-ful practice, and his reflections will help us put our topic in perspective. Who are candidates for this prayer? The prayer is not for everybody. It is not for intellectuals or for shal-low people who live on the surface of things and whose fire burns up quickly like straw. It is for generous souls of strong will who are concerned about their interior life. When to begin? Brother John sees aspirations as a higher form of prayer; hence he is hesitant to promote it indiscriminately. Aware of the dangers of too much emo-tionality as well as its necessary predispositions, he coun-sels against beginning the prayer prematurely. Strain and force must be resisted lest there be physical or psycho-logical harm. It is necessary to guard against a too san-guine assessment of one's love of God. The apostle Peter felt a great love for Jesus that led to presumption and his denial of Jesus in the courtyard. John's basic condition for the practice is a mortified life. He fears the unguarded attraction of the sweetness of this love. So he writes: "To begin this exercise it is absolutely necessary to die to ourselves, to humble ourselves, and to be self-effacing (mepriser)."llJohn is probably thinking of his own novices and their year of novitiate whenhe writes that candi-dates for this prayer should have spent "a good year" in discursive meditation and affective prayer before taking up aspirations. He also warns newcomers that begin-nings will be troublesome, even painful, but practice makes perfect and easy. The process of introversion follows Herp detail for detail. Like Herp, John of St. Samson is lyrical in his descriptions of the outcome of introversion, which is 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer entrance into "the marvelous effects and the spiritual inebriation" of touching the fond or ground of one's being, where the Holy Trinity dwells and the essential union with God takes place. This mystical state is trans-formation in the fire that is God. Aspiratory Prayer in Contemplative Life Today It remains to suggest ways in which this body of teaching can be put into practice in today's contempla-tive setting. A first step, and one that is often presented in the literature, is to connect aspirations with the practice of the presence of God. This means to murmur aspirations frequently during the course of the day to remind one-self of the presence of God and to offer up the present task. This is one application in The Carmelite Directory of the Spiritual Life by John Breninger OCarm and in the works of his student Kilian J. Healy OCarm.~2 A second application is to introduce aspirations into one's daily meditation in whatever form that takes. This will be an affective addition in the nondiscursive medi-tation of Christian Meditation, which features the mantra "Maranatha." The mantra itself could be the vehicle expressing love and desire. Bringing aspiration into cen-tering prayer may be a bit more difficult, since this prayer eschews thinking and emoting. Aspirative prayer may be disruptive of the silence of centering prayer. Perhaps aspirations that are expressed without words and in silence can be a friendly addition and add warmth and fervor to centering prayer. A third way to practice aspirations in one's daily prayer is to structure it much like the two disciplines of contemplative prayer. Periods of aspiratory prayer could be cultivated each day, twenty minutes to a half hour in length, with the whole time given over to aspirations. Review for Religious The aspiration could be a mantra, one phrase repeated over and over again, or it could be spontaneous expres-sions of love and desire. The single mantra may be more compatible with the contemplative nature of the prayer than multiple expressions. Whatever the exact structure aspiratory prayer will take, it will usually be prefabricated and perfunctory in the beginning. But it soon becomes part of one's approach to God in mental prayer. Hopefully it will bring the rich rewards promised by the tradition. Notes ~ Philip Sheldrake, Spirituality and History (New York: Orbis Books, 1995), pp.186-189. 2 Aspiratory prayer is more at home with the language of love than with the Greek categories of contemplation. The literature of the Touraine Reform seems to prefer the evangelical language. One of my esteemed Carmelite teachers and mentors over a lifetime, whose life and studies were dominated by Touraine, frequently showed annoyance at the ambiguities of the vocabulary of contemplation. He preferred to speak of "love" and "loving" as the true measure of prayer rather than dif-ferent forms of "contemplation" or "contemplative." Instead of describ-ing Carmelite life as "contemplative," he preferred the simple word ,prayerful." I interpreted his attitude as a reflection of the viewpoint of Touraine. 3 Canisius Janssen OCarm surveys the sources of aspiratory prayer in the first of two excellent articles on the history and theology of aspira-tory prayer, "Oraison aspirative chez Herp et chez ses pr~d~cesseurs," Carmelus 3 (1956): 19-48. It lists the sources of this prayer in earlier times before its first major exponent, Henry Herp. These sources turn out to be the same texts cited in studies on the roots of centering prayer and Christian Meditation. An example of the latter is Robert W. Ginn's defense against critics, "Centering Prayer: Reviving the Ancient Christian Tradition in Modern Times," a manuscript dated 5/26/05 and circulated by Contemplative Outreach. Janssen's second article is titled "L'oraison aspirative chez Jean de Saint Samson," Carmelus 3 (1956): 185-216. I wish to express my gratitude for these two studies and my indebtedness to them in the formation of the present paper. 4 Spiritual Direction: Beyond the Beginnings (New York: Paulist, 2000), pp. 9-10. Christian mystics from Origen on applied the imagery of the Song of Songs to their relationship with God. St. Th~r~se of Lisieux 65.3 2006 Larkin ¯ Aspiratory Prayer belongs to this group, and a dominant feature of her prayer was aspira-tion. See Romero de Lima Gouvea OCarm, "Vivre d'amour: la pri~re aspirative chez Th~r~se de l'Enfant Jesus (1873-1897)," Carmelus 47 (2000): 19-40. s See Ernest E. Larkin OCarm, "The Little Way of St. Th~r~se of Lisieux," Review for Religious 59 (September-October 2000): 507-517, at 514-515. 6 The Touraine Reform is not as well known as its counterpart, the Discalced Reform begun by St. Teresa of Avila and St. John of the Cross in 16th-century Spain. Touraine began in Brittany in northwest France in the next century. Like the Discalced Reform, it was a radical return to the primitive spirit of the order. Unlike the Discalced Reform, Touraine did not become juridically separated from the old order, but remained in the trunk and spread to every province as the "strictior observantia." See Kilian J. Healy OCarm, Methods of Prayer in the Directory of the Carmelite Reform of Touraine (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 1956), pp. 15-2 i. 7Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 27. s This is the conclusion of James Walsh SJ in his introduction to the Classics of Western Spirituality edition of Tbe Cloud of Unknowing (New York: Paulist, 1981). 9 Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 210. ~°Jean de St. Samson, L'dguillon, les flammes, les fl~cbes, et le miroir de l'amour de Dieu, in Oeuvres completes I, edition critique par Hein Blommestijn (Rome: Institutum Carmelitanum, 1992), p. 98. Aspiration donc n'est pas seulement un colloque affectueux. ; c'est d'icelui que nait et procede l'aspiration. Aspiration donc est un poussement amoureux, enflamm~ de tout le coeur et l'esprit; par lequel l'ame surpasse pronte-ment elle mesme et toute chose cre~e, s'unissant ~troitement ~ Dieu en la vivacit~ de son expression amoureuse; laquelle ainsi .Essentiellement exprim6e, surpasse tout amour sensible, raisonnable, intellectuel et con-prehensible; arrivant par l'impetuosit6 de l'esprit de Dieu et de son effort, ~ l'union de Dieu, non tellement quellement, mais par une soudaine transformation de l'esprit en Dieu. L'esprit, dis-ie, surpasse en lui m~me tout l'amour connessable et intelligible en l'abondante et ineffable suavitd de Dieu mesme, auquel il est amoureusement englouti. Voila que c'est que l'aspiration Essentielle en elle m~me, sa cause et son effet. (The passage is cited by Janssen in the article on John of St. Samson, p. 195. The translation has been made from the text in the c.ritical edition cited above.) li Janssen, Carmelus 3, p. 204. 12 The translation of the Directorium Carmelitanum was made from the Latin by Leo J. Walter OCarm (Chicago: Carmelite Press, 1951). See Review for Religious also Kilian J. Healy, Walking with God (New York: Declan X. McMullen, 1948), reprinted as Awakening Your Soul to the Presence of God (Manchester, New Hampshire: Sophia Institute Press, 1999); see also his chapter in Methods of Prayer, pp. 60-75. Reflection Questions 1. What have I learned about aspiratory prayer as I have read Larkin's article? 2. How might I begin to make aspiratory prayer a daily part of my prayer life? Growing Old The new hearing aid magnifies sounds I've not heard for years and discover I haven't missed. It is not my ears that hear the call to live the soul's desire. I can see tiny print with trifocals but not the messages in everything. I can no longer storm heaven's gates, have lost the need to do so. I am learning to wait gracefully with gratitude for them to open from inside. I am preparing to accept the invitation to eternity. "Growing old" begins with growing. Bonnie Thurston 6~.3 2006 PHILIP SHAN0 "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises A few words by St. Ignatius Loyola in the Contemplation of the Kingdom of Jesus Christ (§§91-98) have been .understood to refer to "repose days." 1 Ignatius says, "This exercise [the kingdom] should be gone through twice during the day, that is, in the morning on rising and an hour before dinner, or before supper" (§99).2 George E. Ganss SJ describes this day as "a transitional day of relative repose with only two peri-ods prescribed." 3 It is Ignatius's introduction to the rest of the retreat. In a note Louis Puhl SJ says Ignatius's words show that the "kingdom" day is a "day intervening between the First and Second Weeks.''4 In this study we will look at the historical roots of the contemporary notion of repose days in the hope of raising some ques-tions for spiritual directors to discuss in their planning of Twentieth Annotation (thirty-day) versions of the Spiritual Exercises. Philip Shano SJ is novice director and superior at the Jesuit Novitiate of the North American Martyrs; 1035 Summit Avenue; St. Paul, Minnesota 55105. Review for Religious An early historical reference to a repose day comes from the directory of Father Juan Alfonso de Polanco, Ignatius's secretary. Polanco's directory, completed years after Ignatius's death, is generally considered the finest of those which preceded the official Directory in 1599, pre-sumably because of his closeness to Ignatius. Polanco says of this day during the retreat: "When it is time for the exercitant to move on, he should be allowed to catch his breath by giving him the meditation on the kingdom of Christ to be made twice, once in the morning and once in the evening. On that day nothing else should be given. Then, toward evening, he should be given the exercise on the incarnation to be made the next day at daybreak.''5 Note, the retreatant "should be allowed to catch his breath." Similar words are used in later directories--"as he catches his breath for a bit.''6 An anonymous direc-tory dating from the 1580s speaks of the retreatant tak-ing "a rest from his exertions until evening.''7 The directory of Father Gil Gonzfilez Dfivila, from about 1587, says the retreatant "should rest., without being given the usual load of exercises. He may, however, occupy himself with some easy meditation suited to'this time.''8 Finally, the "Official Directory of 1599" brings together some of the earlier directories: "After their gen-eral confession and Communion, those planning to con-tinue the Exercises beyond the First Week should take at least a day's rest from the intense labor of meditation. However, in the meantime they can think over and apply to themselves the parable of the Prodigal Son or some-thing similar. Moreover, they should be given a prepa-ration for their Communion so that they will approach it with reverence, faith, and spiritual relish. They should be given some suitable meditation for this.''9 A present-day handbook for directors of the Spiritual Exercises suggests that, in order to deepen the grace of 65.3 2006 Sbano ¯ "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises the First Week, it is important to have a day of easier presence to the Lord. "The desirable thing is simply to enjoy the day with the Lord, rejoicing in his love and praising him. This time precedes the meditation on the Call of the King, and it is not a break day. Some directors refer to the day that separates any two major sections of the Exercises as a ¯ - break day. Others call it a day of repose. Whatever the words used, this day provides time for transition from one empha-sis to another. It usually includes . some relaxation ~ ~- from the intensity of the retreat . Relaxing after the First Week and preparing to enter the Second Week, the retreatant con-siders the material in one prayer period before taking the break and another at its conclusion.''1° It is clear from early directories that the idea was to give the exercitant a pause and then, later that same day, to resume the usual rhythms of the retreat. Considering that Ignatius is known for attentiveness to every detail of a retreatant's life, it is my assumption that he did not see any problem with having repose days. Considering that the Exercises were generally given to individuals, it is furthermore my assumption that repose days were dis-cerned together by the director and the retreatant with a view to the retreatant's particular needs at that juncture. That is, director and reteatant were not ruled by a cal-endar date set for the convenience of someone or some Repose days becom important intensity relievers during anyone's Twentieth Annotation experie de of the Spiritual Exercises. group. Review for Religious Repose days become important intensity relievers dur-ing anyone's Twentieth Annotation experience of the Spiritual Exercises, an experience where "the exercitant withdraws from all friends and acquaintances, and from all worldly cares" (~20). These days fit into the Exercises as helpful pauses. They are not a move away from the retreat, but an approach to it from a different angle. In his look at the kingdom, William Peters sJ observes a number of stylistic differences (this "strangely structured exercise") from the other exercises. He sees "Ignatius's rather exceptional way of proceeding" here as a part of Ignatius's intention that "the retreatant is given a day of rest, of repose, a day to recuperate after the strenuous efforts of the First Week." 11 Peters's view on the place of the "rather gentle consideration" of the kingdom exercise within the entire retreat downplays the kingdom.12 He sees the "transition" day as revealing Ignatius's real pur-pose, namely, "the relationship between the unfaithful courtier and his king." 13 For Peters, the exercise is a low-key consideration, destined for a day of repose. Most directors of the Spiritual Exercises include one, two, or three repose days in the structure of the retreat. Days of repose are an integral part of the Twentieth Annotation retreat. On these days, being with the Lord interiorly and yet dealing with some ordinary aspects of life has an intensity that affects retreatants. The repose "day" is a period of the retreat (several hours ideally) when one steps back from the four or five periods of prayer that are normally recommended to retreatants. On a day of repose, individuals take a break or a "pause" from their normal retreat activity. When the retreat involves a group, the day might involve a common out-ing, a picnic or something similar. It does not mean that retreatants do not pray that day. The repose day is a break from the intense prayer of the retreat mode--noth- 65.3 2006 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises 276 ing more. That break from intensity is important. The retreatant may not feel the need for a break, but spiritual directors can perceive from their vantage point that a break is essential for the person, especially if they have prayed with matters of great importance in their lives. In a few cases, individuals make the Spiritual Exercises on their own, meeting daily with their spiritual director. More commonly, individuals make their indi-vidual retreats in a group (at a spirituality center, as a class of Jesuit novices, and so on). Exercitants experi-ence repose days differently when they are alone or in a group. Those making their retreat on their own take a break from the usual prayer pattern, but they may or may not interact with others (such as the host commu-nity, their family, or their religious community). What is crucial is the pause from the intensity of the retreat. On the other hand, those making individual retreats within a group are ipso facto doing more than taking a pause. They are interacting with other retreatants, per-sons who are experiencing diverse spiritual movements. Whether intended or not, such repose days contribute to the good of community-building. Before the repose day, savvy directors ask retreatants not to compare retreat experiences during the repose day, but to restrict their communal conversation to "safe" topics: comical moments they had together, favorite or least favorite meals, the weather, and so forth. Inevitably, however, many make comparisons during that day. "Why is that young man so enthused and gung ho about his experi-ence? Why is that woman so serious and intense about hers? What's wrong with that man who seems so dour and sad? Why does that older man seem so self-assured and so clearly ahead of me?" Regardless of how many times the directors point out that there is no "ahead" or "behind" in the spiritual life (it operates on God's time!), Review for Religious retreatants, especially those in the midst of many interior movements, tend to quantify and measure their spiritual life. Competition in life is not always explicit; often it is beneath the surface. Hardly realizing it, retreatants may ask themselves, "Why am I so blas~ compared with that person's energy and zeal? Why am I so slow compared with that person's apparent pace? Thank God I'm not as disengaged as that person seems to be!" Competition readily occurs whether we recognize it, acknowledge it, give words to it, or not. A common date for a repose day for an entire group of retreatants results from the pace and structure of life today: the calendars of all the spirituality-center workers, all the directors, and all the retreatants and the desire to "make sure it all works out neatly." Whether the directors feel that their retreatants are ready for the repose day or not, the general pattern 6 n n[date or la repqye daY for an entire group of retre tants i r"esuits f orn pace ¯and stru tureoflife today. is to give them all a repose day together and then to work around the movements it causes or interferes with. For Ignatius, the spiritual life was marked by spiritual movements. Whether consolation or desolation or ambi-guity, there is movement. That movement requires dis-cernment. That is why he included so many rules for the discernment of spirits in his text, so many details that seem obsessive to the casual reader. Retreatants in a state of serious prayer are already shaped by movements and stirrings. On a repose day with other retreatants, they will inevitably "breathe in" other persons' movements, regard-less of their director's instructions. They have a way of being almost "allergic" to the movements of others. 65.3 2006 Stsano ¯ "Repose Days" during the I~natian Exercises 278i In twenty years of directing the Spiritual Exercises, I have rarely encountered an aware and prayerful per-son who returned from a repose day without being moved interiorly in some way. How do retreatants and their directors discern these movements? Many retreatants can acknowledge the movements and get back to the business of the retreat. Others get "hooked," whether on consolation or desolation. It may be a momentary enthusiasm or aggravation or, on the other hand, a movement that goes to the very heart of who the person is. A wise director needs to be attentive to this and find ways to deal with it head-on. One wants to ensure that the movement does not interfere with the significant movements that Ignatius is seeking in the discernment of the Second Week. Sometimes it is movement that is important to the per-son's prayer, for instance, an insight into a way of pro-ceeding in relationships. Sometimes it is an unhelpful distraction, taking the person "off course" with a con-versation about church or state politics. Many directors fail to ask enough questions about the repose day and its movements in people. They may say to themselves, "Well, both of us have had a good break and now we can move on to the Second Week," and fail to find any deeper meanings in it. Ignatius would want some probing, as he implies in the Sixth Annotation .when he urges directors to ask about the supposedly peripheral aspects of the day (§6). The day of r.epose may easily have caused the retreatant to go into a tailspin, one that could last for several days. Directors who are unsavvy may assume all kinds of reasons for the discouragement, tepidity, or lethargy. The reasons could be much closer to home. The movement could, indeed, reveal important aspects of how God is working with the person. It could also be a move-ment that distracts the person from the ways of God. Review for Religious Communal interaction is good, but, like any "good," it needs to be discerned. One can easily be deceived by its seeming goodness, but sometimes the movement on a repose day can be advantageous to a retreatant. The woman who was apathetic or tepid up till then may com-pare herself with others and realize that she has to get more serious about the spiritual life and her patterns of prayer. The man who was too intense and racing may real-ize that he needs to be more discreet, deliberate, and paced about his prayer. I refer to these movements as "the grace of the repose day." It can spur a tepid person or slow down a fast-paced person. But there can also be serious disad-vantages. What if the movement is artificial? What if the movement from the repose day interferes with movements that were already going on in a person's prayer? What, then, are some of the things that wise and cun-ning spiritual directors need to be aware of when they direct individuals of a group making a retreat, one that includes repose days that may come along at times that are inconvenient to their retreatants' natural movements? First and most essential is the need for discernment. Directors should not think that they are wasting their time, but that they are helping.the exercitant to appro-priate the repose day's meaning for their prayer. Many directors recommend, or even guide retreatants through, an examen of consciousness to discern exactly what the repose time included: life-giving or life-draining con-versations, feelings of gratitude or impatience, of hope or ennui. Quite often the fifth rule (§3 3 3) of the Rules for the Discernment of Spirits for the Second Week is men-tioned. There Ignatius has the retreatant look at the whole course of events pertaining to a spiritual move-ment-- the beginning, middle, and end. Perhaps the exercitant can be asked to read other Rules for Discernment as well. 65.3 2006 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises A second thing regarding a scheduled day of repose for the individuals of a group is that some individuals are ready for that repose day and some are not. If all make it, comparisons will be made regardless of directors' urging not to make them. Directors should ask them-selves, "Should this particular retreatant do the repose day or not? Considering where the person is, will a repose day help or hinder the movements he or she is experiencing?" We can easily be caught by "groupthink" and assume that a ~ o. ~ :' .~.'~ person should havea ,question ~ repose day simply " ~ because the calendar lists it for the conve-nient operation of the retreat center. The truly discerning question is whether or not the individual is ready for a breather. For the per-son who takes part in the repose day (or does not), what instructions should be given? I would recommend not giving the retreatant a repose day just because everyone else is doing it. Directors should ask, "Will this retreatant benefit from the repose day?" The Spiritual Exercises are for the retreatant. Retreatants should not have to bend to accommodate themselves to the schedule of the spirituality center or the team of directors. Third is the structure and length of the repose day. The early directories do not give the impression that there Was a full day of repose. Yet the increasingly common practice is to lengthen the day and perhaps forgo the daily direction period. Teams of directors need to ask carefully what they will suggest for the day. One retreat center's Web site says that a repose day is a good day for an out-ing to a local mall. The cynical mind would see this activ- The truly disce?nihg is whether ,or not the individual is ready for.a breather. 280 Review for Religious ity as giving the retreatant suitable prayer material for the Two Standards meditation coming in just a few days, as if retreatants do not have enough data already. Another director might wonder what a trip to a mall could offer someone who is praying for poverty and the Third Degree of Humility. The length of the day also requires team dis-cussion and discernment. What is the right length--for time to breathe but not go into a tailspin. The practice of repose days is often taken for granted. Directors and teams do not ask enough questions about it. The aim of this article has been to encourage ques-tioning. Notes ~ This note on "repose days" was inspired by three Jesuit novices whose retreat I directed. By their experiences, openness, and questions, Vincent Strand nSJ, Brian Rademacher nSJ, and Christopher Krall nSJ never stopped quietly calling me to move forward in faith. I offer them these words in gratitude. 2 Spiritual Exercises, §99. Unless noted, all quotations to the Exercises are from the translation by Louis J. Puhl SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1951). 3 George E. Ganss SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of Saint Ignatius: A Translation and Commentary (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1992), p. 159. 4 Puhl, p. 177. s Number 62 in "Directory of Juan.Alfonso de Polanco," in Martin E. Palmer SJ, On Giving the Spiritual Exercises: The Early Jesuit Manuscript Directories and the Official Directory of I Y99 (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1996), p. 131. The Latin text is: "Peracta confessione generali, cum ulterius progrediendum est, ut respiret qui exercetur, meditatio de regno Christi ei proponetur, quae bis fiet, mane scilicet et vesperi; et pro illo die alia non proponantur; deinde sub vesperam Exercitium incar-nationis proponetur, postridie faciendum in aurora." 6 Number 81 in "Directory of Father Antonio Cordeses," in Palmer, p. 275. 7 Number 60 in "A Short Directory for Giving the Society's Exercises Effectively," in Palmer, p. 212. ~ Number 87 in "The Directory of Father Gil Gonz~ilez Dgvila," in Palmer, p. 250. 65.3 2OO6 Sbano * "Repose Days" during the Ignatian Exercises 9 Number 140 in "The Official Directory of 1599," in Palmer, p. 318. 10 Marian Cowan CSJ and John Carroll Futrell SJ, The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius of Loyola: A Handbook for Directors (Denver, Ministry Training Services, 1981), p. 69. 11 William A.M. Peters SJ, "The Kingdom: The Text of the Exercise," Way Supplement 18 (Spring 1973): 9. ~2 Peters, pp. 16 and 11. ~3 Peters, p. 13. 282] Tinsel in August Scraps of it, in the evening grass, Left over from last Christmas's tree Dragged by its stump to its shreddedness, Casting garlands and crowns on its path, Still catch moon-sparks - like the cat With tinsel eyes, going forth into night With glitter afoot from May's prom-party Dress, and June's wedding gown, that drifted Crystal and spangles over the family pets, Over carpeting, over dancers and through cracks In the house. Overhead now, the tinsel Of summer stars slowly shreds with the sullen Advance of thunder and sheet-tinsel garlanding Horizons far to the West. Cat-tag tinseling, Lucifur comes home wet from his tryst. Nancy G. Westerfield Review for Religious CHARLES P. FARRAR Gerard Manley Hopkins's "Lantern out of Doors": A Contemplative Response to Loss Seometimes the clearest way to describe an experi-nce is metaphorically. When an experience is unique and mysterious, we link it to something more common to make it more understandable. According to its Greek roots, metaphor means "to carry across." A well-conceived metaphor carries meaning across from one plane to another, thereby elevating the reader's con-sciousness. Metaphors have always been effective in the deft hands of writers of good spiritual theology: they suggest insights about God. The English Jesuit Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-1889) was a master of the spiritual metaphor. His poems' everyday images elevate readers' minds to fresh spiritual understandings. In the follow-ing sonnet a lantern conveys the experience of loss. Charles P. Farrar works as a hospital chaplain in Detroit. His address is 1930 Piper Drive, apt. 204; Rochester Hills, Michigan 48307. 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors 284, The Lantern out of Doors Sometimes a lantern moves along the night. That interests our eyes. And who goes there? I think; where from and bound, I wonder, where, With, all down darkness wide, his wading light? Men go by me whom either beauty bright In mould or mind or what not else makes rare: They rain against our much-thick and marsh air Rich beams, till death or distance buys them quite. Death or distance soon consumes them: wind V~at most I may eye after, be in at the end I cannot, and out of sight is out of mind. Christ minds: Christ's interest, what to avow or amend There, dyes them, heart wfnts, care hfunts, foot f611ows kfnd, Their rfnsom, their rescue, find first, ffst, last frMnd.1 The metaphor here, developing gradually through the two quatrains and the first tercet, is wonderfully subversive. What we think is a lyrical reflection about an ordinary event surprisingly turns out to be much more. The speaker leads us from a concrete observation (a nighttime lantern moving through the speaker's vision), to a more abstract observation about how the lives of beautiful people "go by" him until they disappear from view. What Hopkins is "carrying across" is the striking similarity between the way nighttime travelers pass by on the road and the way peo-ple come and go in our lives. But that is not all. In the last tercet he carries us to another plane of meaning, making a beautiful Christological statement: that Christ can do something which we cannot. He can keep up loving friendships with all those people whose departure from our lives had sad-dened us. This metaphor has carried us contemplatively from an everyday observation to--presto!--the healing of that sadness of ours. Review for Rdigious The first line and a half moves smoothly enough. Then we are jarred by "who goes there?" Suddenly the speaker becomes aware that the moving lantern implies a person. In lines 3 and 4 he drifts into a reverie about the whence and whither of the person "wading" like a lantern through a sea of darkness. All he knows of the person are the few moments of light present amid o.bscurity. The second stanza reflects on the beauty of certain people in the speaker's life, whether physical or internal beauty ("in mould or mind"). Such people are "bright" and "rare," like lanterns in the dark, like "rich beams" that "rain" against the "marsh air" of our mundane life. Notice how subjective this is. He is not primarily describ-ing the beauty in these people or the brightness in the lanterns. Rather he describes how these qualities affect him. (In this way Hopkins follows the tradition of Romantic poets like Wordsworth, Keats, and Rilke.) Consequently, when in line 8 these people leave the speaker's ken by "death or distance," they, for all intents and purposes, cease to exist. The word "quite" in line 8 seems to mean "completely." They disappear com-pletelyJhow tragic! The next tercet (lines 9-11) is a bit twisty to under-stand. And appropriately enough, for the action is the speaker's vain effort to keep these people in view as they go down a winding, twisting road. The Hopkins scholar Peter Milward says: "How eagerly soever he follows the winding steps of such men as they recede into the dark-ness, he cannot 'be in at the end'--that is, follow their subsequent history to its end.''2 The speaker concludes this thought with the clich6"out of sight is out of mind"--as though he is too numb emotionally to come up with a fresh phrase. We cannot help being struck by the loneliness of all this. The poem tells us nothing about these beautiful 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors The poem tells us nothi 2,861 lantern-like people. It does not reveal any empathy toward them; there is no relationship here. All that mat-ters is how the speaker feels: he sees them as "interesting," "beautiful," "bright," and "rare," and his seeing falls short. It seems he is psychologically trapped inside his own emotions. Notice how, for emphasis, Hopkins chimes the "I" sound three times in: "I about" thkse behut l may eye after, be in at the ¯ "~"~v~,~ia'tern*liv°'~a'i~ ~,,, end / I cannot." To find any happiness, he must be rescued from this solipsistic sighing. The rescue comes quickly in the last three lines. Simply by the sound of them, the reader senses that the speaker's mood has picked up. Thanks to Hopkins's "sprung rhythm," it all bursts to life sis-boom-bah. After lamenting that the beautiful persons disappear from his own mind, the speaker quickly adds that in Christ's mind they live on. Christ, too, is "interested" in those beauti-ful people, but his interest is objective, not subjective. He is interested, not in his feelings about them, but in their welfare. He never fails to "avow" all that is good in them, and he works to "amend" whatever they fail in. The words "~yes them, heart wfints, care hfiunts, foot f611ows kind" run together breathlessly,3 demonstrating an urgency of concern. This urgency, however, comes, not from last-ditch hopes groping in the darkness, but rather from the desire of Christ's heart. It comes from Christ's unconditional interest in them, not because of some particular beauty in them, but simply because of God's unfailing love for them. Christ can succeed where the speaker of the poem fails. His omniscient vision "eyes" all people without Review for Religious interruption. The speaker gladly acknowledges that from heaven our Lord gazes on them perpetually. And his "foot" can "follow" them without interference. This phrase "foot follows kind," incidentally, is a remarkable terse statement of the mystery of the incarnation. Thanks to the Son's taking on a human nature, he can "follow" us, as of one "kind" with him.4 As Hebrews puts it, "since the one who saves and those who are being saved have a common origin, Jesus does not hesitate to treat them as a family.''5 Being divine, Christ can follow us; with a human nature, he cannot help following us. From this, the sonnet's last line flows smoothly, both in its music and its logic. Being our "rescue" (the Messiah saves us from death) and our "ransom" (his sacrifice itself saves us), he has proven himself to be our "first, fast, last friend." Friendship is what the lantern-seeker yearns for but is denied. Abiding friendship, however, is precisely the promise which Christ fulfills.6 From the speaker's existential, self-absorbed lament about his unfulfilled affection for certain beautiful people, he arrives at a place of peace. His conviction that Christ's love for these peo-ple is complete, unlike his own, consoles him. One apparent weakness in the argument of this poem is that the conclusion seems to have been reached too facilely. It seems superficial or unreal that the speaker could assuage his sadness simply by calling Christ to mind. A study of Hopkins's life, however, suggests that the bur-den of this poem was likely learned and earned through a real personal struggle. One episode in his life shows how this sonnet may be somewhat autobiographical. In the winter of 1865, when he was a twenty-year-old Oxford student, he met a young man several years his junior named Digby Dolben. Dolben's cousin Robert Bridges appears to have asked Hopkins the favor of help-ing the younger man gain admission into Oxford. Dolben 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors was unforgettably vivacious and artistic. The two young men shared a passion for religion and poetry composi-tion. According to Hopkins's celebrated biographer Robert Bernard Martin, Dolben must have made a pow-erful impression on Hopkins's soul.7 His feelings, how-ever, were ambivalent: he relished this friendship, but also struggled with his desire to deepen it. When cir-cumstances required that Dolben move away later that same year, Hopkins was left feeling empty. When he learned of his friend's tragic drowning two years after-wards, he was devastated. Although Hopkins did not elaborate on these feel-ings in his letters or journals, there is a laconic journal entry from 1873: "I received as I think a great mercy about Dolben." This line was written immediately after a ten day spiritual retreat. It is remarkable that this per-son, with whom he had enjoyed communication only for a number of months, would be on his mind all these years later. It is more remarkable that the memory would surface as a consolation after a time of intense prayer. What had been going on in Hopkins's mind all this time? I believe the "Lantern out of Doors" provides a key. The connection between this episode and the sonnet-- albeit speculative--is compelling. Dolben's passing through Hopkins's life was much like the poem's lantern. In Hopkins's quiet and introverted life, Dolben's effer-vescent personality and artistic sensibilities must have been "rich beams" glinting in Hopkins's "marsh air." Moreover, Dolben's departure, first by "distance," then by "death," probably left him feeling much as the poem's first eleven lines leave us readers feeling. We can speculate that Hopkins tried to cope with this predicament psychologically. At this time he was embarking upon an earnest spiritual journey, one which would lead him first to become Catholic and then to join Review for Religious the Society of Jesus. It was a fertile time for him, spiri-tually and artistically. His journals and letters give ample evidence of a soul immersed in wonder and contempla-tion. Hopkins's Ignatian spiritual formation inspired him to seek God's presence in all things. Doubtless, his sad-ness about Digby Dolben entered into his contem-plative exercises. That journal entry referring to the mercy he received about Dolben was most likely a fruit of these devotions. The inspiration of the last three lines of the sonnet might, then, have flowed quite naturally. In a moment of contemplating Christ, the consolation mer-cifully came to him concerning Christ's invincible friend-ship with Dolben. If we could indulge in further conjecture about this sort of contemplation, it is reasonable to suppose that a key might be found in St. Ignatius's Spiritual Exercises. For Hopkins as a Jesuit, this text could have been foun-dational; any experience of consolation could well have been understood in its light. One teaching in the Exercises stands out. The fourth point of the Contemplation to Attain Divine Love instructs the exercitant "to consider how all blessings and gifts descend from above. My lim-ited power, for example, comes from the supreme and infinite power from above. In like manner, justice, good-ness, pity, mercy, etc., descend from above just as the rays from the sun, the waters from the spring, etc.''8 Here one is being directed from a consciousness of blessings and gifts toward a contemplation of the God from whom they descend. It is plausible to imagine the 65.3 2006 Farrar * Lantern out of Doors 290 young Hopkins--still staggered by the radiant gifts that Dolben had brought into his life--in an effort to come to terms with his loss, contemplating the infinite power of Christ, who made these gifts shine through his late friend. And would this not have inspired Hopkins to trust that Christ's light will continue to shine upon and through Dolben for all eternity. Whether Hopkins can see it or not, he can still experience the healing which comes from the conviction that his friend is in very good hands. As Peter Milward elegantly puts it, "the last word 'friend' emphasizes the truth that the 'lantern out of doors' has its end in the love of Christ.''9 Perhaps many of us have had similar struggles and breakthroughs. I, for one, am constantly reminded of feelings of attraction toward the lantern-like people in my life: and also of the helpless sadness of separation. One example comes to mind, which arose out of my work as a hospital chaplain. I responded to a patient's request to visit him. Let us call him John. We enjoyed a rich conversation, about an hour long, about his spiritual his-tory, his family, his hopes for the future, and the mean-ing of life in general. It was the same the next two days. These visits were very fulfilling for me. It was no trou-ble for me to squeeze my schedule to find time for John. On the fourth day, to my surprise, the bed was empty. I discovered he had been discharged just a short time ago. A flood of questions came to mind: What did this mean? Was he feeling better? Why didn't he tell me he was leaving? This last question vexed me most. Like the sonnet's lantern-watcher, my thoughts were more on my letdown than on John's welfare. I felt guilty about that. I also felt guilty about getting so close to a patient. I remembered the hoary old adage of Clinical Pastoral Education: "Be careful about letting the ministry be a satisfaction for your personal needs." Review for Religious But why should I deny the good feelings that these visits with John had given me? They made me feel valu-able as a chaplain, and I wanted more. Like Hopkins contrasting the "much-thick and marsh air" of his mun-dane life with the "rich beams" some people's lives send forth, I wanted to feel that light. It helped me feel com-petent and useful. It gave my ministry an emphatic sense of purpose. I felt connected with this patient and wanted to connect some more. Then, like a lantern in the night, he was gone. I wish I could say that I rebounded immediately and arrived at a profound conviction akin to the insight of the last tercet in Hopkins's sonnet. But to this day I still feel some emptiness about John. As I later spoke with a friend about this, I realized how much emptiness there is in my heart about the many interesting people who have passed into and then out of my life. While I may not have "gotten over" the various sorts of grief occasioned by these losses, I often experience moments of consola-tion about them. I will find myself in the Liturgy, in prayer, in a conversation with someone, or reading, for instance, when some kind of assurance mysteriously comes. It is a consoling belief that Christ is watching over all God's children, that somehow they are all safe in his care. My attempts to analyze or describe these moments of consolation invariably, end in futility. What I can say is that they give me peace. I suppose what hap-pens is that my attention graciously moves from my own self-centered emptiness about the loss to a contemplation of where these individuals are in Christ's perspective, that is to say, watched over, loved, cared for by him. They are welcomed into friendship by their "first, fast, last friend." There are manifold ways to deal therapeutically with loss. Books teaching cognitive techniques consistently 65.3 2006 Farrar ¯ Lantern out of Doors find their place on bestseller lists. Granting the effec-tiveness of these techniques, I hope that believers will also consider the simple insight offered by this lovely poem. I hope we will forever keep our hearts open to seeing that those who have journeyed beyond our eye-sight remain within our Savior's. And there is a consol-ing corollary, that Christ watches my lantern too. Notes 1 Norman H. MacKenzie, ed., The Poetical Works of Gerard Manley Hopkins (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1992), no. 113, p. 40. 2 Peter Milward, A Commentary on the Sonnets of G.M Hopkins (Chicago: Loyola University Press, 1985), p. 62. 3 This effect is aided by the fact, as Milward (p. 63) observes, that the accents are on the verbs. 4 "Kind" has a double meaning here, nature and benevolence. These meanings are especially lovely in contrast to the rhymes (1) "mind" in the phrase "out of mind" and (2) "wind," the speaker's futile visual pursuit of the lanterns' apparent windings. The suggestion in the word "kind" is that the remedy for the speaker's sadness is that Christ is of a kind with us and is kind as well. s Hebrews 2:11, from Eugene H. Peterson, trans., The New Testament in Contemporary Language (Colorado Springs: NavPress, 2002). 6 See John 15:13-15. 7 Robert B. Martin, Gerard Manley Hopkins:/1 Very Private Life (London: Harper, 1991), pp. 80-170. 8 The Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius, trans. Anthony Mottola (New York: Doubleday, 1964), p. 104. 9 Milward, Commentary, p. 63. Review for Religious RAYMOND R. RYAN Today's Candidates: Who Are They, What Do They Expect? Occasionally, as I try to explain to interested questioners what is going on in the novitiate, their eyes glaze over and I hear them internal-izing W.C. Fields's famous comment, "There's less here than meets the eye." Actually there is much more here than meets the eye. Formation today is dynamic, not static; not only for "them," but also for "us." Otherwise it is only a game, a series of hoops to be jumped through with blithe disregard for the future. Concern for that future, however, has prompted a great deal of research on the char-acteristics of today's candidates for religious life and priesthood. Perhaps a few findings from that research will help us better understand our new-comers, our novices. The fall 2004 issue of Touchstone, the official publication of the Raymond R. Ryan OSA, a former novice director, writes from the Augustinian Provincialate; 20300 Governors Highway; Olympia Fields, Illinois 60461. being religious 65.3 2006 Ryan * Today's Candidates ConversiOff iS ctnii iuou s through: initia[ a nd formation, and.it n ver s opS.i National Federation of Priests' Councils, features an arti-cle by Dominican Andrew Carl Wisdom: "Why Every Generation Matters in Preaching." He indicates that every congregation is made up of four or five distinct commu-nities: Builders (1901.-1924), Silent Generation (1925- 1942), Baby Boomers (1943-1964), Generation X (1964-1981), and Millennials (1981-present). He chal-lenges preachers to be aware of this intergenerational phe-nomenon and address homilies to each generation. It is not uncommon for a novitiate class or a postnovitiate for-mation community to have three generations represented. One of those younger men puts it this way: "I am not simply in formation, but in a real sense in re-for-mation. I am already someone with a full life, commitments, and deeply held con-victions. I don't know that the order is all that ready for people like me." Another, reflecting on his for-mation experience, remarks: "It is understood that we all have faults and reach various levels of maturity dur-ing different stages of our li~'es. However, it is of par-ticular concern when . . . one who has a reasonable, relatively healthy sense of self is now in formation with others who are considerably younger or much older, or have not yet resolved such pressing identity issues as their own sexuality. A formation team must be equipped to recognize and address such disparities within a for-mation community, rather than treat everyone with a one-size-fits-all approach." These observations make us aware that formation today is quite a venture. The two brothers quoted had Review for Religious good insights. One looks for re-formation. For the other, one-size-fits-all formation can be deformation. Obviously, intergenerational living with various levels of maturity and immaturity not only is a challenge, but can be a heavy cross. We who are supposedly "formed" can attest to how adult immaturity adversely affects our communal life. Before mentioning some formation components as they relate to today's candidates, I quote Msgr. Dennis Sheehan, senior Catholic chaplain at Harvard University, regarding some current candidates: Today's seminarian is older and more experienced . My fear is that at times we will form a priest accord-ing to all the directives and requirements. But, if he has not tracked that with the ongoing conversion of his intellectual, moral, and religious life, we are likely to find a formed priest who is only a partial Christian. ¯ . In this generation, when so many come to us chronologically and psychologically older, it is far more difficult to change basic assumptions. They will learn the Scriptures and theology and pass examina-tions . . . but then what? Often enough they can become a canonical enforcer. The collaborative can-didate becomes a clerical Caesar. (Seminary Journal, fall 2004) While Msgr. Sheehan is concerned with priesthood can-didates, his observation can also apply to candidates for religious life. His concern is that both initial and con-tinuing formation be considered matters of unending conversion, a quite Augustinian outlook. Life is a con-tinuing call to change and grow. Conversion, then, is continuous through initial and continuing formation and it never stops. For this reason, today's formation programs have both a strong programmatic component, which presents the elements of Catholic, Christian, and Augustinian (or Benedictine, Franciscan, and so forth) spirituality, and a 65.3 2006 Ryan ¯ Today's Candidates 296 personal/communal component. The latter has four interconnected goals, asking each candidate to: ¯ know himself and his stow; ¯ commit to building and sustaining healthy intimacy in his life; ¯ learn, or continue to learn, and understand that integration is a lifelong process. The gospel calls us to work at continuing conversion and to invite others into that lifelong and life-giving call from the Lord; ¯ allow himself to live in the tensions encountered, accepting that these are a part of integration. We cannot always reconcile tensions or "fix" things. God's presence is experienced just as surely in darkness as in light. The practice of solitude brings perspective, sometimes peace, but always a centering in Jesus, self, and others in our actual circumstances. These goals are spelled out more concretely in some of the following ways. Candidates have spiritual directors at all levels of initial formation. Directors meet those in formation monthly. The history and continuing stoW of God's call is a part of these discussions. When I was in a peer supervision group while novice director, our facil-itator, a Dominican sister with age, wisdom, and grace asked us, usually at a time of conflict or self-doubt, "And what's going on in you right now as you relate your stow?" I did not like the question, even after four and a half years in the group. Why? Because it forced me to clarify what I did not want to face or did not want to integrate into my life. Indeed, sharing ourselves brings deeper self-knowledge and a deeper realization that, the more personal the problem, the more universal it is. Formation today, along with the previously men-tioned personal elements, encourages the communal dimension, in ways perhaps strange or at least fleetingly uncomfortable to some. The "climate check," which we Review for Religious in our province used, is helpful. It is a simple statement of some truth about ourselves, our families, and our lives; it helps us "tune in" to each other--or perhaps find our-selves "on the same page," discovering a commonality of experiences. When community members suffer from misunderstandings or hurts, they are encouraged to meet together. One-on-ones, especially in conflict situations, can help them work through interpersonal difficulties. Sometimes things do not work out as hoped; that can be helpful too. We can ask what this tells us about each other and ourselves: "What's going on in us right now?" Postnovitiate formation invites all of the community members to attend house chapters and community meet-ings-- our more formal community structures. These can effectively introduce newer members into our time-hon-ored ways of being together. Contemporary Augustinian formation encourages personal and communal sharing. This is done not because psychologists have invaded our mid

ERRORS OF LINGUISTICS COMPONENTS FOUND IN THE BACKGROUND OF THE STUDY OF THE S1 STUDENTS' THESES Dewi Anggraini English Education Department, Language and Arts Faculty, Surabaya State University. email: dedewanggara@ymail.com Prof. Dr. Susanto, M.Pd. English Education Department, Language and Arts Faculty, Surabaya State University. Abstrak Membuat kesalahan adalah salah satu hal yang tak dapat dihindari di dunia, terutama di pempelajaran bahasa, karena ini adalah bagian yang alami dari proces pembelajaran. Kesalahan siswa dapat diamati, dianalisis, dikelompokkan, dan dipelajari menggunakan error analysis dan hasil dari analisis tersebut dapat menunjukkan perkembangan siswa dalm penguasaan bahasa dan membantu guru dalam proses belajar dan mengajar. Penelitian ini menganalisa komponen bahasa dalam latar belakang permasalahan dalam skripsi mahasiswa jurusan Bahasa Inggris Universitas Negeri Surabaya. Peneliti menggunakan metode penelitian deskriptif kualitatif karena tujuan dari penelitian ini adalah untuk mendeskripsikan gambaran dari kesalahan morfologikal, leksikal, sintaktik, dan mekanikal yang dibuat oleh mahasiswa dalam latar belakang permasalahan skripsi mereka. Peneliti mengambil enem skripsi dari tiga kelompok. Peneliti mengambil dua skripsi dari mahasiswa yang lulus lebih cepat (kurang dari empat tahun), dua skripsi dari mahasiswa yang lulus tepat waktu (empat tahun), dan dua skripsi dari mahasiswa yang lulus lambat (lebih dari empat tahun). Kemudian, dalam menganalisa dan menafsirkan data, peneliti menggunakan Ferris's error analysis model sebagai acuan. Hasil dari penelitian menunjukkan bahwa: 1) Untuk kesalahan morfologikal, peneliti menemukan bahwa dari semua macam kesalahan morfologikal, kesalahan yang paling utama adalah subject-verb agreement dan kesalahan artikel/determiner, terutama kesalahan penggunaan artikel kosong (Ø) untuk the. 2) Untuk kesalahan leksikal, siswa hanya membuat sedikit kesalahan dalam preposisi dan sub kategori lain di kesalahan leksikal. Ini menunjukkan bahwa siswa telah menguasai kosa kata Bahasa Inggris untuk menyusun kalimat yang benar. 3) Untuk kesalahan sintaktik, peneliti menemukan bahwa siswa membuat kesalahan paling banyak di penghilangan kata dan run-on sentence. Dan 4.) untuk kesalahan mekanikal, peneliti menemukan bahwa kealahan tanda baca, terutama dalam penggunaan koma, adalah kesalahan yang paling banyak muncul diikuti kesalahan kapitalisasi. Kata Kunci: Error Analysis, Kesalahan Morfologikal, Kesalahan Leksikal, Kesalahan Sintaktik, Kesalahan Mekanikal. Abstract Making errors is one of the most inevitable things in the world, especially in language learning, since it is a natural part of learning process. Students' errors can be observed, analyzed, classified, and studied by using error analysis and the result of analysis can indicate the students' development in mastering the language and help the teachers in teaching and learning process. This study analyzes the linguistics components in the theses' background of the study of the English Department's students in Surabaya State University. The researcher used descriptive qualitative as the research design because the objectives of this study were to describe the profile of morphological, lexical, syntactic, and mechanical errors made by the university students in their theses' background of the study. The researcher took six theses from three groups randomly. She took two theses from the students who graduated earlier (less than four years), two theses from the students who graduated on time (four years) and two theses from the students who graduated late. Then, in analyzing and interpreting the data, the researcher used Ferris's error analysis model as the guidline.The findings of this study revealed that: 1) For the morphological error, the researcher found that from all kind of errors in morphological error, the most problematic errors were subject-verb agreement errors and article/determiner errors, especially for misused of zero article (Ø) for the. 2) For the lexical error, the students only made few preposition errors and other subcategories errors in lexical error. It indicated that the students had already mastered the English vocabularies to construct the appropriate sentences. 3) For the syntactic error, she found that the students made the most errors in omitted word and run-on sentence. And 4) for the mechanical error, she found that punctuation error, especially in using comma, was the most problematic error followed by capitalization error. Keywords: Error Analysis, Morphological Error, Lexical Error, Syntactic Error, Mechanical Error. introduction Making errors is one of the most inevitable things in the world, especially in language learning, since it is a natural part of learning process (Makino: 1993). In the language learning process, the students continuously explore and improve their knowledge about the rules of the target language. Consequently, when they do not complete or lack of the knowledge, they will make errors. According to Brown (2000: 217), an error occurs because the students do not know what is correct and it cannot be self-corrected. They need helps or feedbacks from the teacher to correct it. Thus, an error is no longer seen as a bad thing which has to be avoided in language learning process as in the past since it can indicate the students' development in mastering the language and help the teachers in teaching and learning process. Maicusi, T., Maicusi, P., and Lopez (2000) state that errors take place when the deviation arises as a result of lacking of knowledge. Then, Choiriyah (2007) defines errors as any deviation from a selected norm of language performances, no matter the possibility of the characteristic or causes of the deviation. In a few words, from the definitions above, it can be concluded that errors are the result of the deviation from the target language's norms and lack of knowledge about the target language itself. Brown (2000: 217) states that error and mistake are different. He states that a mistake occurs because of slip or lack of attention or carelessness in utilizing the language system and it can be self-corrected whereas an error occurs since the learner does not know what is correct, and it cannot be self-corrected. In the other hand, Ellis (2007:18) states that the difference between an error and a mistake may not be clear since the learners sometimes constantly use a feature in some contexts and constantly fail to use it in others. Error is categorized as local and global error. Heaton (1988: 149) states that local errors are errors which do not cause significant trouble and misunderstanding for the readers in comprehending the sentences (e.g. misuse of articles, omission of preposition, etc.), whereas global errors are errors which influence the overall structure of the sentences and make the readers get difficulty to understand the sentence (misuse of connective, omission of relative pronoun). According to Brown (2000: 223-227), there are four sources of errors. They are interlingual transfer, intralingual transfer, context of learning, and communication strategies. 1. Interlingual transfer is caused by the interference of the mother-tongue; it makes students have a tendency to copy every word or grammar rules of their native language into the target language. 2. Intralingual transfer is the negative transfer of items within the target language or the incorrect generalization of the target language's rule. 3. Context of learning can be called as false concept, the learner makes faulty hypothesis because of misleading explanation from the teacher or faulty presentation of the structure of word in textbook. 4. Communication strategy is the learning style of the learners; they use wrong strategies when getting their massages, so it causes the errors. Then, according to Touchie (1986: 77-79), there are two main sources of errors in second language learning. The first source is interference from the native language/ mother-tongue. Errors due to the influence of the native language are called interlingual errors. Interlingual errors are also called transfer or interference errors. The second source is intralingual and developmental factors. Intralingual and developmental errors are due to the difficulty of the second/target language. Intralingual and developmental factors include the following: Simplification: Learners often choose simple forms and constructions instead of more complex ones. An example of simplification might involve the use of simple present instead of the present perfect continuous. 2. Overgeneralization: This is the use of one form or construction in one context and extending its application to other contexts where it should not apply. Examples of overgeneralization include the use of buyed and goed as the past tense forms of buy and go. It should be noted that simplification and overgeneralization are used by learners in order to reduce their linguistic burden. 3. Hypercorrection: Sometimes the keen efforts of teachers in correcting their students' errors induce the students to make errors in otherwise correct forms. 4. Faulty teaching: Sometimes it happens that learners' errors are teacher-induced ones, i.e., caused by the teacher, teaching materials, or the order of presentation. This factor is closely related to hypercorrection above. Also, it is interesting to note that some teachers are even influenced by their pupils' errors in the course of long teaching. 5. Fossilization: Some errors, especially errors in pronunciation, persist for long periods and become quite difficult to get rid of. Examples of fossilized errors are the lack of distinction between /p/ and /b/ in English produced by these learners. 6. Avoidance: Some syntactic structures are difficult to produce by some learners. Consequently, these learners avoid these structures and use instead simpler structures. 7. Inadequate learning: This is mainly caused by ignorance of rule restrictions or under differentiation and incomplete learning. An example is omission of the third person singular s as in: He want. 8. False concepts hypothesized: Many learners' errors can be attributed to wrong hypotheses formed by these learners about the target language. For example, some learners think that is is the marker of the present tense. So, they produce: He is talk to the teacher. Similarly, they think that was is the past tense marker. Hence they say: It was happened last night. Brown (2000: 218) states that errors can be observed, analyzed, classified, and studied by using error analysis. James (1998) as cited in Gustilo and Magno (2012) defines error analysis as the analyses of the errors made by L2 learners by comparing and explaining the learners' norms with the target language norms. Then, Yang (2010) states that "error analysis is the process of determining the incidence, nature, causes and consequences of unsuccessful language". Furthermore, Hariri (2012) defines error analysis as a systematic procedure which includes collecting, identifying, describing, explaining, and evaluating errors from a collection of language learner data by analyzing and comparing it to the target language. Hence, it can be concluded that error analysis can discover the students' weakness in the process of language learning through studying the students' errors. By conducting it, the teachers can be sensitive to their students' errors and notice what kind of errors which the students often make. Then, they can modify their teaching materials in order to adapt to the students' needs. According to Ellis (2007: 15-20), there are four steps in analyzing students' errors. They are identifying, describing, explaining, and evaluating errors. 1. Identifying Errors In identifying errors, the researcher compares the sentences which are produces by learners with the correct sentences in the target language. If the sentences are judged incorrect for the target language or inappropriate for a particular context, they are categorized as errors. 2. Describing Errors In this step, all errors are described and classified into types. The researcher may categorize errors into types, such as grammatical, phonological, lexical, or morphological categories. 3. Explaining Errors In this step, the researcher tries to explain why errors occur. It enables the teachers to identify the process in the students' mind which have caused errors to occur. 4. Evaluating Errors In evaluating step, the researcher measures the comprehensibility of students' writing. Here, he/she can know whether the students' errors are included to global or local error. According to Touchie (1986:76), language learning errors involve all linguistics components. The linguistics components include phonology, morphology, lexicon, syntax and orthography. Then, errors in these linguistics components are called as phonological, morphological, lexical, syntactic, and orthography errors. When the teachers or the researchers want to analyze the students' composition, they can focus on analyzing the morphological, the lexical, the syntactic, and the orthography errors. Here, the phonological error is excluded since it does not deal with the students' composition. It is only analyzed when they want to investigate the students' speaking ability. Analyzing linguistics components of students' compositions is very important because linguistics components have an important role in a composition. Heaton (1988: 146) states that linguistics components contribute around 50% in scoring a composition. In scoring a composition, content takes 30% for the scoring, organization takes 20% for the scoring, vocabulary takes 20% for the scoring, language use takes 25% for the scoring, and mechanical takes 5% for the scoring. It can be concluded that in writing a good composition, we need not only good content and organization but also good vocabulary, language use, and mechanical (linguistics components). Some studies about error analysis on the students' compositions have been conducted. Most of them have shown that many students still make errors on their compositions. Gustilo and Magno (2012) investigated the sentence level errors in one hundred fifty essays written by freshmen college students in five private schools in Metro Manila, Philippine. They found that the top five errors which occur in the essays were comma (unnecessary or missing comma, missing comma after an introductory clause or phrase, and missing comma before a non-restrictive clause), word choice (wrong word form/word choice), verbs (s-v agreement, verb tense, and verb form), capitalization and punctuation, and sentence structure (fragment and run on sentences). Then, AbiSamra (2003) analyzed ten written works of Arabian students which were collected in their mid-term examination. The result showed that there were some errors which found in the ten students' essays. They were grammatical, 35 syntactic, lexical, semantic, and substance (mechanics & spelling) errors. In addition, Abushihab, El-Omari, and Tobat (2011) conducted a study to investigate and classify the grammatical errors in the writings of sixty two students of the Department of English Literature and Translation in one of private universities in Jordan. The students enrolled in a paragraph writing course in the first semester of the academic year 2009/2010. These errors were classified into six major categories: tenses, prepositions, articles, active and passive voice, verbs, and morphological errors. They found 345 grammatical errors in the students' paragraphs. It was observed that the largest number of errors was the errors of preposition. The next problematic areas were morphological errors, articles, verbs, active and passive voice, and tenses. From the previous studies above, it can be concluded that error analysis can indicate the students' competence in writing since it shows the area of students' problems in writing. After discovering these areas, the teachers can take some better treatments and more reinforcements, so it can be a feedback for the students and they can use it to develop their writing competence. Gustilo and Magno (2012) states that errors can be viewed as valuable information for the teachers, the researchers, and the students. For the teachers, it provides information about the students' errors which helps them to correct the students' errors and improves the effectiveness of their teaching. For the researchers, it gives them valuable data and information about how language is acquired or learned. Then, for the students, it enables them to reflect on their learning, so they can get feedback and develop their competence. In addition, Erdogan (2005) concludes that error analysis can identify the strategies that language learners use, find out the reason of the students' errors, determine the common difficulties in learning, and help teachers to develop materials for remedial teaching. Looking at the huge benefits of error analysis, the researcher is interested in conducting a study about analyzing errors in the students' compositions. Besides, the researcher had ever visited a library and read one of the English Department student's theses submitted there. She found that there were still any errors found in that thesis. That is why; she wants to analyze the theses of the English Department's students in one of state universities in Surabaya, Indonesia. She does not analyze all of the parts of the thesis, but only the background of the study of the thesis. She chooses to analyze the background of the study because it becomes the foundation, reason, and explanation why they conduct the study. In this case, the students in the English Department have taken Writing I, Writing II, Writing III, Academic Writing I, Academic Writing II, and Thesis Proposal before composing the thesis. Besides, they also had been taught how to write when they were in junior and senior high school. Therefore, it can be said that they have had enough knowledge about writing to compose their thesis. Looking at this fact, she is more curious whether there are errors found in the other students' theses, especially in the background of the study, or not. At least, the present study is intended to investigate the following problem: How are the profile of errors made by the university students in their theses' background of the study? In line with Touchie, Ferris (2005) as cited in Kato (2006) also includes all linguistics components in analyzing the students' compositions. She divides the common writing errors which occur in the students' compositions into four categories: 1) morphological, 2) lexical, 3) syntactic, and 4) mechanical errors. Morphological errors are errors which include the lack of grammatical processes of inflection and derivation, e.g. My brother is fattest than my sister (My brother is fatter than my sister). Lexical errors are errors which involve inappropriate direct translation from the learner's native language or the use of wrong lexical items in the second language, e.g. I will wait you when the clock is five (I will wait you at five o'clock). Syntactic errors are errors in sentence/clause boundaries (run-ons, fragments, and comma splices), word order, and other ungrammatical sentence constructions, e.g. Rini very beautiful (Rini is very beautiful). Then, Mechanical errors are errors in using punctuation, spelling, and capitalization, e.g. i will go to jakarta next week buying a refrigenerator (I will go to Jakarta next week to buy a refrigerator.) Based on these categories, the researcher formulates the research questions of this study as follows: (1) How are the profiles of morphological errors made by the university students in their theses' background of the study? (2) How are the profiles of lexical errors made by the university students in their theses' background of the study? (3) How are the profiles of syntactic errors made by the university students in their theses' background of the study? (4) How are the profiles of mechanical errors made by the university students in their theses' background of the study? METHOD This study was qualitative, especially descriptive qualitative. This design was used because the data of the study were in the form of words in written language rather than numbers, taken in natural setting, and explained descriptively. In this study, the researcher analyzed the English Department students' theses background of the study, which were submitted in the Language and Art Faculty library, to know the profile of morphological, lexical, syntactic, and mechanical errors. The data were analyzed and interpreted based on Ferris's error analysis model which categorized common writing errors into four categories: morphological, lexical, syntactic, and mechanical errors. The subject of this research is the English Department students of Surabaya State University who have graduated from the English Department and submitted their theses in the Language and Art Faculty library. In this case, the subjects had taken Writing I, Writing II, Writing III, Academic Writing I, Academic Writing II, and Thesis Proposal before composing the thesis. Besides, they also had been taught how to write when they were in junior and senior high school. Therefore, it can be said that they have had enough knowledge about writing to compose their thesis. Besides, their theses had been approved as their graduation requirement. In this study, the researcher chose six theses from thousands theses submitted in Language and Art Faculty library randomly. She took the theses from three groups. She took two theses from the students who graduated earlier (less than four years), two theses from the students who graduated on time (four years), and two theses from the students who graduated late (more than four years). She chose theses from the students who had different time of graduation since she wanted to know the differences between the errors they committed and for heterogeneity of the subject. The sources of data in this study were the theses' background of the study made by the English Department students which were taken from the Language and Art Faculty library. The data of the study were the sentences which contained of morphological, lexical, syntactic, and mechanical errors found in the students' background of the study. In this study, the researcher was the key instrument in collecting data. She went to the library to choose six theses which would be analyzed. After getting the theses, she copied all of the theses' background of the study, read, and identified the errors found in the students' background of the study. In analyzing the data, the researcher analyzed theses' background of the study using several steps. After identifying the errors, she classified them based on Ferris's error analysis model which categorized common writing errors into four categories: morphological, lexical, syntactic, and mechanical errors. After classifying the errors, in order to answer the research questions about the profile of morphological, lexical, syntactic, and mechanical errors made by the university students in their theses background of the study, she did the second classification. She classified the errors into some subcategories. For the morphological errors, the classification is done in the verb errors and noun errors. Verb errors consist of verb tense, verb form, and subject - verb agreement. Then, noun errors consist of articles/determiners and noun ending (plural and possessive). For the lexical errors, the classification is done in the word choice, word form, preposition errors, pronoun errors, and spelling errors. For the syntactic errors, the classification is done in the word order, omitted word/phrase, unnecessary word/phrase, run-on sentence, and fragments/incomplete sentence. For the mechanical errors, the classification is done in capitalization, spelling, and punctuation. After classifying the errors into some subcategories, the researcher described and evaluated the errors found to make conclusion from the result of the analysis. RESULT AND DISCUSSION The Profiles of Morphological Errors Made by the University Students in Their Theses' Background of the Study In this study, the classification of the morphological errors is done on the verb error and noun error. Verb error consists of verb tense, verb form, and subject - verb agreement. Then, noun error consists of articles/determiners and noun ending (plural and possessive). The further descriptions are explained below: Verb Error Subcategory Based on the Ferris's error analysis model, verb error subcategory consists of errors in verb tense, verb form (infinitive, gerund and other forms), and relevant subject-verb agreement. The following description explains the students' errors in verb errors subcategory from each group. A. Verb Tenses Error According to Ehrlich and Murphy (1991:49), verb tense can be the indicator of time when an action takes place. Therefore, we can indicate whether somebody writes or speaks about past, present, or future events from the tenses that he/she uses. There are some tenses in English, such as present, past, past perfect, present perfect, future, future perfect, etc. On the contrary, in the other languages, include the students' native language, there is no different tenses when somebody writes or speaks about past, present, or future events; the verbs that he/she uses are always in the same form. Therefore, most of the verb tense errors in this study were interlingual errors. Touchie (1986: 77-79) states that interlingual errors are errors due to the influence of the native language. In this study, because in the students' native language the verbs that the students use are always in the same form, they confused in using it since it's different to their native language. From the verb tenses errors which were found, most of the students from each group failed to identify the correct pattern of simple present tense. Here were some examples of verb tenses errors : [1] .without realizing that they have master several vocabulary and expressions in English. [2] The presented material was made by the students, the teacher only prepare some examples for them, and then they have to make their text as they want with the guidance from the teacher and their friends. (Student 1) In sentence [1], the student failed to identify the correct pattern of present perfect tense since he used simple present instead of the present perfect continuous. The verb in the present perfect tense should be in past participle (V3), but in this case he used simple form (V1). Therefore, the sentence should be: ".without realizing that they have mastered several vocabularies and expressions in English." Then, in sentence [2], he failed to identify the correct pattern of present tense; he should use to be for simple present tense (is) instead of to be for past tense (was). Besides, the second subject (the teacher) was singular. In simple present tense, the students should add verb ending –s or –es if the subject is singular. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: "The presented material is made by the students, the teacher only prepares some examples for them, and then they have to make their texts as they want with the guidance from the teacher and their friends." [3] Nowadays, the curriculum that we used is the 2006 English standard competence. (Student 3) [4] Realia are things that given an explanation about real life. (Student 4) In sentence [3], the student failed to identify the correct pattern of present tense. The verb in the present tense should be in the simple present form (V1), but in this case she used verb in the form of simple past (V2). Therefore, the sentence should be: "Nowadays, the curriculum that we use is the 2006 English Standard Competence." In sentence [4], the student also failed to identify the correct pattern of present tense. He used verb in the form of past participle (V3) instead of simple form (V1). Thus, the sentence should be: "Realia are things that give an explanation about real life." [5] A teacher could make the end goals of language learning seem nearer and more motivating. (Student 5) [6] Lado (1957:2) says that the students who came in contact with a foreign language will face some features. [7] Dulay (1989:138) stated that making error is an inevitable part of learning. (Student 6) In sentence [5], [6], and [7], the students also failed to identify the correct pattern of present tense. The verb in the present tense should be in the simple present form (V1), but in these cases they used verb in the form of simple past (V2). Therefore, the sentence should be: [6] A teacher can make the end goals of language learning seem nearer and more motivating. [7] Lado (1957:2) says that the students who come in contact with a foreign language will face some features.and [8] Dulay (1989:138) states that making error is an inevitable part of learning." B. Verb Form Error Verb form errors occur when the students cannot apply the rule of gerund, infinitive, and past voice well. Azar (1992:150) states that a gerund is an "ing" verb form used as a noun whereas an infinitive is a verb form which is preceded by "to" and its function is as noun, adjective or adverb. Then, in passive voice, the object of an active verb becomes the subject of the passive verb. Most of the students made errors in verb form errors because of overgeneralization. Overgeneralization is the use of one form or construction in one context and extending its application to other contexts where it should not apply (Touchie, 1986: 77-79). Here were some examples of verb form errors: [8] .the students are expected to be mastered in four skills listening, speaking, reading and writing. [9] . in speaking people put idea into words, talking about perception, feeling and intension. (Student 4) In sentence [8], the students failed to apply the rule in passive voice and infinitive. He should omit be and verb ending –ed. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: ".the students are expected to master the four skills: listening, speaking, reading and writing." In sentence [9], the first verb (put) is in the simple form (V1), so in the parallel structure, the second verb should in simple form (talk), not in gerund (talking). Therefore, the correct sentence should be: ". in speaking people put idea into words, talk about perception, feeling and intension." [10] They require choosing the proper method. (Student 5) [11] Oshima and Hogue (1991:2) defined that academic writing is a kind of students writing that require doing in school, college or university. (Student 6) In sentence [10] and [11], require is one of verbs that is followed by a noun + an infinitive. But in these cases, the students applied the rule of gerund in it. This cause of error was called overgeneralization. Besides, these sentences also should be in passive voice not in active voice. Therefore, the sentences should be: [10] They are required to choose the proper method. And [11] Oshima and Hogue (1991:2) define that academic writing is a kind of students' writing that is required to do by the students in school, college or university. C. Subject-Verb Agreement Error The subject–verb agreement occurs when the verb of a sentence does not match with the subject in number and in person. The students in every group made subject-verb agreement errors in their composition. It took place because in the students' native language, there was no subject-verb agreement. They use same verb for singular or plural subject. Some examples of error in subject-verb agreement from each group were: [12] So improving participation is an obvious goal in courses that include frequent discussions and small-group work. (Student 1) [13] The key feature of successful teaching receptive skills such as reading is the teacher concern on the comprehension. (Student 2) In sentence [12] and [13], the subjects were singular (improving participation, and the teacher), but the students tended to omit the verbal ending –s or –es in those sentences. Therefore, the correct sentences should be: "So improving participation is an obvious goal in courses that includes frequent discussions and small-group work." and "The key feature of successful teaching receptive skills such as reading is the teacher concerns on the comprehension." [14] It means that reading ability is very important and teaching reading need much time in the school environment. [15] The government need to seek the most appropriate curriculum. (Student 3) [16] The second, Student are usually bored with the classroom, because sometimes the teacher manage the the classroom monotonously. [17] Baker and Westrup (2003:5) states "students find it difficult to have conversation on a topic that they know little about." (Student 4) In sentence [14], [15], and [16], the subjects were also singular (teaching reading, government, and the teacher) but the students tended to omit the verbal ending –s or –es in those sentences. Therefore, the correct sentences should be: [14] It means that reading ability is very important and teaching reading needs much time in the school environment. [15] The government needs to seek the most appropriate curriculum. [16] The second, the students are usually bored with the classroom because sometimes the teacher manages the classroom monotonously. In contrary, in sentence [17], the subject was plural (Baker and Westrup), but the student added the verbal ending –s. He should omit it in order the subject matched with the verb. Therefore, the correct sentences should be: "Baker and Westrup (2003:5) state that "students find it difficult to have conversation on a topic that they know little about." [18] The teacher needs to find the exact approach, methods, and technique which is suitable for the junior high school students. (Student 5) [19] Students tends to make errors when they are studying a language. (Student 6) In sentence [18], the student misused of to be. The adjective clause "which is suitable for the junior high school student" was modified the noun "the exact approach, methods, and technique". Here, the noun was plural, so the correct sentence should be: "The teacher needs to find the exact approach, methods, and technique which are suitable for the junior high school students." In sentence [19], the subject were plural (students), but the student added the verbal ending –s. He should omit it in order the subject matched with the verb. Therefore, the correct sentences should be:" Students tend to make errors when they are studying a language." Noun Error Subcategory In the morphological errors category, noun errors consist of article/determine errors and ending noun errors. A. Article/Determiner Errors According to Bryant (1984), article/determiner errors are frequently encountered by Asian students since definite and indefinite articles do not exist in their languages. In these languages, the noun stands alone, often being modified only by descriptive and/or limiting adjectives (possessive adjectives, relative adjectives, interrogative adjectives, demonstrative adjectives, and indefinite adjectives). This statement was proven in this study, the students from all group made article/determiner errors, especially for misused of zero article (Ø) for the since in their native language (Indonesia) definite and indefinite articles do not exist. In this study the article/determiner errors were one of the most problematic errors faced by the students. It was in line with Han et al (2006:115) in Apriyanti (2013) who state that, "one of the most difficult challenges faced by non-native speakers of English is mastering the system of English articles. Here were some examples of article/determiner errors made by the students: [20] .the teacher could not maximize students' participation in learning and practicing the competence. [21] Although it is not easy to make students speak as the teacher wants. (Student 1) [22] Nowadays, English is taught formally in fourth graders of elementary school. [23] Moreover, to be a good reader, students need to be strategic readers first. (Student 2) In sentence [20] and [21], the words student' participation and students had been identified before by the writers. Then, in sentence [22], the word fourth graders was involving an ordinal form to show order/level. Therefore, according to its characteristics and the rules of using article the, these nouns needed the article the before those words. In sentence [23], the student should not use article a since the subject is plural (students). Therefore, the correct sentence should be: "Moreover, to be good readers, students need to be strategic readers first." [24] It is an important component because it can be used as resource for teachers in teaching and learning process. (Student 3) [25] So, in the end of study, students are expected to have competence to communicate fluently. (Student 4) In sentence [24] and [25], the words teachers and students had been identified before by the writers. Then, according to its characteristics and the rules of using article the proposed by Azar (1999:115), these nouns needed the article the before those words. [26] For example, the invention of internet, mobile phone, etc. [27] In functional level, students use language to fulfill the daily life, for example reading the newspaper, manual or direction. (Student 5) [28] The main function of teaching English as stated in 1994 curriculum is to enable students to acquire science. (Student 6) In sentence [26], internet and mobile phone are kinds of invention. In sentence [27], the words functional level had been identified before by the writers. Then, in sentence [28], the word 1994 curriculum is a specific thing. Therefore, according to its characteristics and the rules on using article the, these nouns needed the article the. B. Noun Ending Error Noun ending errors are divided into noun ending error in plural and possessive. In this case, the students made noun ending errors since in their native language, the rule of pluralization is different from the rule of pluralization in English. In Indonesian, when the noun is plural, it is indicated by the amount of the noun, whereas in English they should add –s or –es after the noun to show the pluralization. Then, in Indonesian, there are some words that show about possessive, such as –nya, -ku, mu, etc, whereas in English they must use appostrophe and noun ending –s or –es to show possessive. Here were some examples of noun ending errors : [29] Therefore it is important for the teacher to be able to manage active student participation. [30] Teacher and students activities are clearly mentioned, but it is quite difficult to understand and follow. (Student 1) In sentence [29], the student omitted the apostrophe and noun ending -s after the word student to show possession. Therefore, this sentence should be: "Therefore, it is important for the teacher to be able to manage active student's participation." In sentence [30], he also omitted the apostrophe after the word students to show possession. Therefore, this sentence should be: "The teacher and the students' activities are clearly mentioned, but they are quite difficult to understand and follow." [31] Celce-Murcia at al in Agustien (2004:2) explains five component of communicative communication. [32] .most of the student will be interested if the students are in condition that make students comfort in the class. (Student 4) In sentence [31], the noun was plural but the students omitted noun ending –s after the word component. Thus, the correct sentence should be: "Celce-Murcia et al in Agustien (2004:2) explain five components of communicative communication." In sentence [32], most of was an expression of quantity. It preceded specific plural count noun or noun count noun. Since the student was count noun, it should be in plural form. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: ".most of the students will be interested if the students are in condition that makes students comfort in the class." [33] As a foreign language it is taught and learned, either formally or informally in many part of our country. (Student 6) In sentence [33], the word many showed the expressions of quantity. A noun which is preceded by some and many should be in plural form. Therefore, the correct sentences should be: "As a foreign language, it is taught and learned either formally or informally in many parts of our country." The Profiles of Lexical Errors Made by the University Students in Their Theses' Background of the Study In this study, lexical errors consist of all errors in word choice, word form, preposition errors, pronoun errors and spelling errors. Spelling errors are included if only in misspelling resulted in an actual English word. Word Choice Errors Students usually encounter some difficulties when they write a composition. One of problems is lack of vocabulary. It makes the students unable to choose appropriate word for their sentences. Consequently, they make errors in word choice. In this study, most of the students made word choice errors in their theses' background of the study. Some examples of those errors were: [34] There are 32 students with most of them are female students. [35] .the students who did not get the change to present their narrative on the previous meeting must present on the second meeting. (Student 1) [36] Besides that, the extension of scientific books in English language makes students have to master reading skill. (Student 2) In sentence [34], the student should not use preposition with. He should use adjective clause to modify the noun students. In sentence [35], the word change that was used by the student was not appropriate. He should use the word chance in this sentence. In sentence [36], besides that is usually used in spoken language, but the student overgeneralize it and apply it in written language. The student should use besides in formal written language. Therefore, the correct sentences should be: [34] There are 32 students which most of them are female students. [35].the students who did not get the chance to present their narrative on the previous meeting must present on the second meeting. [36] Besides, the extension of scientific books in English language makes students have to master reading skill. [37] An English text book, in which the ninth graders students used, has to fulfill the 2006 English Standard Competence of BSNP [38] The researcher is concerned on analyzing the reading material in "English In Focus" for the ninth of Junior High School. (Student 3) [39] Schunke (1988:295) states that realia are tangible objects things that can be seen touch held and smelled that gives students a real life experience with the topic they have been studying. (Student 4) In sentence [37] and [38], the student should use the ninth graders instead of the ninth graders students or the ninth to show the students' grade at school. In sentence [39], the word objects and things are synonymous, so the students should choose between objects or things that can be used in that sentence. [40] In addition, English has been taught in elementary, junior, senior and university. (Student 5) In sentence [40], the bolded words elementary, junior, senior are ambiguous. The student should make it clear by changing the words into elementary school, junior high school, and senior high school. Word Form Errors In this study, there were two word form errors made by the student. It was committed by the student who graduated on time. [41] "the goal of classroom management is to creat classroom atmosphare conducive to interact in English meaningful." [42] So, the teacher can use realia as an alternative technique in teaching speaking and narrative oral production skill about fable can help student more interest to speak. (Student 4) In sentence [41], the student overgeneralized the use of part of speech, he should use adverb instead of adjective in this sentence. In sentence [42], he should use adjective instead of noun. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: "the goal of classroom management is to create conducive classroom atmosphere to interact in English meaningfully." And "So the teacher can use realia as an alternative technique in teaching speaking, and narrative oral production skill about fable can help the student more interested to speak." Preposition Error In English, there are so many prepositions and it has different uses and rules. Therefore, when the students misused, omitted, misplaced or added preposition in their sentence wrongly, preposition errors occur. Some examples of preposition errors in the students' compositions were: [43] .then let them to answer the question related with the text. (Student 2) In sentence [43], the student misused preposition after adjective related. It should be combined using preposition to instead of with. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: ".then let them to answer the question related to the text." [44] .this skill is very important to be practiced for student in the classroom. [45] However, the student will interest make the realia in attractive situation with story and narrative text is one of text types that provide attractive and experience situation (Student 4) In sentence [44], the student misused of preposition for. He should use preposition by since this sentence was passive form. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: ".this skill is very important to be practiced by student in the classroom." In sentence [45], the student failed to apply the correct pattern of passive voice. Besides, he omitted preposition in after the word interest. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: "However, the student will be interested in making the realia in attractive situation with story and narrative text is one of text types that provides attractive and experience situation." [46] .the students are able to communicate fluently oral and written form. (Student 6) In sentence [46], the students omitted preposition in. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: ".the students are able to communicate fluently in oral and written form. Pronoun Errors Pronoun errors took place when the students misused, misplaced, or omitted pronoun in their sentences. Some examples of pronoun errors in the students' compositions were: [47] Teacher and students activities are clearly mentioned, but it is quite difficult to understand and follow. (Student 1) In sentence [47], the subject was plural (teacher and students' activities), so the student should use personal pronoun they instead of it. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: "Teacher and students' activities are clearly mentioned, but it is quite difficult to understand and follow." [48] When the learner learns the target language, he will face more problems than they learn his own mother tongue [49] Errors made by the students can be identified as evidences that he is in the process of learning. (Student 6) In sentence [48], the subject is singular (learner), so the student should use personal pronoun he instead of they. In sentence [49], the subject is plural (the students), so the student should use they as the personal pronoun. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: "When the learner learns the target language, he will face more problems than when he learns his own mother tongue." and "Errors made by the students can be identified as evidences that they are in the process of learning." Spelling Errors In lexical error, spelling errors are included when they produce an actual English word or the combination of two actual English words. [50] Therefore, a good textbook should fullfill the standard competence and relevant to the curriculum. [51] But the teacher should be carefull and review the text book when choosing a book. (Student 3) [52] Therefor a teacher has to make variation in the ways of his or her teaching. (Student 4) In sentence [50] and [51], the word fullfill and carefull were spelling errors since the student added the letter l in the actual words. It was caused by overgeneralization since she thought that the word full in English always had double l , so she added letter l in words fulfill and careful. Therefore, the correct words were fulfill and careful. In sentence [52], the student omitted the letter e in the actual words. The correct word should be therefore. Those spelling errors are categorized as lexical error since they are combination of two actual English words. [53] It can be seen trough the science and technology development. (Student 5) In sentence [53], the word trough was a spelling error since the student omitted the letter h in the word through. This spelling error produced an actual English word trough .Therefore, it categorized as lexical error. The Profiles of Syntactic Errors Made by the University Students in Their Theses' Background of the Study The classification of syntactic error is done in the word order, omitted word/phrase, unnecessary word/phrase, run-on sentence, and fragments/incomplete sentence. Unidiomatic sentence constructions were not included in this study since they were not found in all students' compositions. Error in Word Order Word order refers to the order in which elements occur in a clause or sentence (Leech, 2006:126). Word order in English sometimes makes the students confused since it is different from their native language. The ordering of words in English is in reverse order to their native language (Indonesian). The following description explained the students' errors in word order from each group. [54] The result is at best highly imperfect translation, at worst frustation and incomprehension. (Student 3) [55] ."the goal of classroom management is to creat classroom atmosphare conducive to interact in English meaningful." (Student 4) In sentence [54] and [55], the students could not order the words very well. The correct sentences should be: "The best result is highly imperfect translation and the worst are frustration and incomprehension." And ".the goal of classroom management is to create conducive classroom atmosphere to interact in English meaningfully." Error in Omitted Word/Phrase Error in omitted word/phrase took place since the students omitted a word/phrase or some word/phrase in their sentences. The examples of error in omitted word/phrase found in the students' composition were: [56] English is an international language plays an important role to all aspects of human life. (Student 3) [57] Depdiknas (2004:30) states the English learning in senior high school is targeted to the learners in order to gain the functional level. [58] They have to communicate through speaking to gain much more information with their teacher friends in order to practice and improve their speaking skill. (Student 4) In sentence [56], the student omitted the subject pronoun which. This word modified the noun English. In sentence [57], the word states should be followed by that, but in this sentence the student omitted it. In sentence [58], He also omitted conjunction and to connect the words teacher and friends. Therefore, the correct sentences should be: "English is an international language which plays an important role to all aspects of human life", "Depdiknas (2004:30) states that the English learning in senior high school is targeted to the learners in order to gain the functional level." and "They have to communicate through speaking to gain much more information with their teacher and friends in order to practice and improve their speaking skill." [59] While the fact shows most of the teachers might not implement it in depth study. (Student 5) [60] According Brown (1980:41), the learning of foreign language (English) often meets a lot of difficulties. (Student 6) In sentence [59], the word shows should be followed by that and in sentence [60], the word according should be followed by to but in these sentences the students omitted those words. Therefore the correct sentence should be: "While the fact shows that most of the teachers might not implement it in depth study." and "According to Brown (1980:41), the learning of foreign language (English) often meets a lot of difficulties." Error in Unnecessary Word/Phrase Error in unnecessary word/phrase took place since the students added a word/phrase or some word/phrase which were unnecessary in their sentences. The examples of error in omitted word/phrase found in the students' composition were: [61] Speaking, one of skills that is very important thing in daily communication. [62] According to Chastain (1976:340) states that "Vocabulary is needed for the students to talk about some aspect of their lives." (Student 4) In sentence [61], there was an unnecessary word. The students should omit the noun thing since the word important had modified the word skills. In sentence [62], the student should choose between according to or states that since those words could not be used together. Therefore, the sentences should be: [61] Speaking is one of skills that is very important in daily communication. And [62] Chastain (1976:340) states that "vocabulary is needed for the students to talk about some aspect of their lives." [63] Writing is very important in the academic level, in as much as the students works are mostly in the written form. (Student 6) In sentence [63], the student should omit in much as since it was unnecessary and make the reader confused. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: Writing is very important in the academic level as the students' works are mostly in the written form. Run-On Sentence A run-on sentence is two or more independent clauses improperly strung together. It omits the connectors, for examples semicolon or a coordinate conjunction, and often uses comma (comma slice) or a conjunctive adverb by mistake. In this study, run-on sentences were still found. It showed that the students could not join two or more independent clauses using conjunction or punctuation correctly. It could be caused by inadequate learning. Inadequate learning is caused by ignorance of rule restrictions or under differentiation and incomplete learning (Touchie, 1986: 77-79). Students in Indonesia seldom have enough knowledge about run-on sentences since most of the teachers in Indonesia seldom warn their students about it, so they have no sufficient knowledge about it. Here were some examples of run-on sentences made by each group: [64] The class is clear enough, with clear sunlight from the windows, there is no fan or AC, but the air is not too hot, the chairs and tables are arranged perfectly by the students. [65] The activity to practice the speaking skill which was conducted by the teacher and students was storytelling, the students did monologue of narrative text individually. (Student 1) In sentence [64], there were three independent clauses and in sentence [65] there were two independent clauses. In these sentences, the student only joined those independent clauses using comma, so run-on sentence take placed. He should use a period or a semicolon between the independent clauses. Therefore, the sentences should be: [64] The class is clear enough with clear sunlight from the windows. There is no fan or AC, but the air is not too hot. The chairs and tables are arranged perfectly by the students. And [65] The activity to practice the speaking skill which was conducted by the teacher and students was storytelling; the students did monologue of narrative text individually. [66] The purpose of the teaching of English for Senior High School is to master informational competency, this purpose should be taken into account in order to make the students be able to access the knowledge in the academic purpose. [67] Realia that be used to teach speaking of narrative text can raise the students' interest, they can be used to break up the routine class activity and they can provide fun for student in different interpretation. (Student 4) In sentence [66] and [67], there were two independent clauses. In these sentences, the student also joined those independent clauses using comma, so run-on sentence take placed. He should use a period or a semicolon between the independent clauses. Therefore, the sentences should be: [66] The purpose of the teaching of English for Senior High School is to master informational competency. This purpose should be taken into account in order to make the students be able to access the knowledge in the academic purpose. And [67] Realia that are used to teach speaking of narrative text can raise the students' interest. They can be used to break up the routine class activity and provide fun for the student in different interpretation. [68] An academic writing has special audience that is the academic circle, the advisors and the students, it is formal and serious in tone, and its purpose is to explain. (Student 6) In sentence [68], run-on sentence occurred since the student joined two independent clauses using comma. He should use a period or a semicolon between the independent clauses. Therefore, the sentences should be: "An academic writing has special audiences that are the academic circle, the advisors and the students. It is formal and serious in tone, and its purpose is to explain." Fragments Sentence fragment is a group of words without a subject or predicate in an independent clause. It is usually called as incomplete sentence since a complete sentence in English must has at least a subject and a predicate. [69] .and the recent Level of Educational Unit Curriculum (2006-present) [70] .the objective of the reading skill on the ninth graders are expected to be able to understand the meaning of short functional text and short simple essay text, in the form of procedure, narrative and report in daily life context. (Student 3) [71] Speaking, one of skills that is very important thing in daily communication. (Student 4) Sentence [69] and [71] were fragments since there was no verb in these sentences. Therefore, the students should add to be in these sentences and the correct sentences should be: ".and the recent is Level of Educational Unit Curriculum (2006-present)" and "Speaking is one of skills that is very important in daily communication. Sentence [70] was fragment since it had no object. The object should be placed after the word expecting. Therefore, the correct sentence should be: ".the objective of the reading skill on the ninth graders are expecting the students to be able to understand the meaning

Alexander Dugin on
Eurasianism, the Geopolitics of Land and Sea, and a Russian Theory of
Multipolarity







IR has long been regarded as an
Anglo-American social science. Recently, the discipline has started to look
beyond America and England, to China (Theory Talk
#51, Theory Talk
#45), India (Theory Talk
#63, Theory Talk
#42), Africa (Theory Talk #57, Theory Talk
#10) and elsewhere for non-Western
perspectives on international affairs and IR theory. However, IR theorists have
paid little attention to Russian perspectives on the discipline and practice of
international relations. We offer an exciting peek into Russian geopolitical
theory through an interview with the controversial Russian geopolitical thinker
Alexander Dugin, founder of the International
Eurasian Movement and allegedly an important
influence on Putin's foreign policy. In this Talk, Dugin—among others—discusses his Theory of a Multipolar
World, offers a staunch critique of western and liberal IR, and lays out
Russia's unique contribution to the landscape of IR theory.




Print version of this Talk (pdf) Russian version




What, according to you, is
the central challenge or principle debate within IR and what would be your
position within this debate or towards that challenge?



The field of IR is extremely interesting and multidimensional.
In general, the discipline is much more promising than many think. I think that
there is a stereometry today in IR, in which we can distinguish a few axes
right away.



The first, most traditional axis is realism – the English school
– liberalism.



If the debates here are exhausted on an academic level, then on
the level of politicians, the media, and journalists, all the arguments and
methods appear new and unprecedented each time. Today, liberalism in IR
dominates mass consciousness, and realist arguments, already partially
forgotten on the level of mass discourse, could seem rather novel. On the other
hand, the nuanced English school, researched thoroughly in academic circles,
might look like a "revelation" to the general public. But for this to happen, a
broad illumination of the symmetry between liberals and realists is needed for
the English school to acquire significance and disclose its full potential.
This is impossible under the radical domination of liberalism in IR. For that
reason, I predict a new wave of realists and neorealists in this sphere, who,
being pretty much forgotten and almost marginalized, can full well make
themselves and their agenda known. This would, it seems to me, produce a
vitalizing effect and diversify the palette of mass and social debates, which
are today becoming monotone and auto-referential.



The second axis is bourgeois versions of IR (realism, the
English school, and liberalism all together) vs. Marxism in IR. In popular and
even academic discourse, this theme is entirely discarded, although the
popularity of Wallerstein (Theory
Talk #13) and other
versions of world-systems theory shows a degree of interest in this critical
version of classical, positivistic IR theories.



The third axis is post-positivism in all its varieties vs.
positivism in all its varieties (including Marxism). IR scholars might have
gotten the impression that postmodern attacks came to an end, having been
successfully repelled by 'critical realism', but in my opinion it is not at all
so. From moderate constructivism and normativism to extreme post-structuralism,
post-positivistic theories carry a colossal deconstructive and correspondingly
scientific potential, which has not yet even begun to be understood. It seemed
to some that postmodernism is a cheerful game. It isn't. It is a new
post-ontology, and it fundamentally affects the entire epistemological
structure of IR. In my opinion, this axis remains very important and
fundamental.



The fourth axis is the challenge of the sociology of international
relations, which we can call 'Hobson's challenge'. In my opinion, in his
critique of euro-centrism in IR, John M. Hobson laid the foundation for an
entirely new approach to the whole problematic by proposing to consider the
structural significance of the "euro-centric" factor as dominant and clarifying
its racist element. Once we make euro-centrism a variable and move away from
the universalistic racism of the West, on which all systems of IR are built,
including the majority of post-positivistic systems (after all, postmodernity
is an exclusively Western phenomenon!), we get, theoretically for now, an
entirely different discipline—and not just one, it seems. If we take into
account differences among cultures, there can be as many systems of IR as there
are cultures. I consider this axis extremely important.



The fifth axis, outlined in less detail than the previous one,
is the Theory of a Multipolar World vs. everything else. The Theory of a
Multipolar World was developed in Russia,
a country that no one ever took seriously during the entire establishment of IR
as a discipline—hence the fully explainable skepticism toward the Theory of a
Multipolar World.



The sixth axis is IR vs. geopolitics. Geopolitics is usually
regarded as secondary in the context of IR. But gradually, the epistemological
potential of geopolitics is becoming more and more obvious, despite or perhaps
partially because of the criticism against it. We have only to ask ourselves
about the structure of any geopolitical concept to discover the huge potential
contained in its methodology, which takes us to the very complex and
semantically saturated theme of the philosophy and ontology of space.



If we now superimpose these axes onto one another, we get an
extremely complex and highly interesting theoretical field. At the same time,
only one axis, the first one, is considered normative among the public, and
that with the almost total and uni-dimensional dominance of IR liberalism. All
the wealth, 'scientific democracy', and gnoseological pluralism of
the other axes are inaccessible to the broad public, robbing and partly
deceiving it. I call this domination of liberalism among the public the 'third
totalitarianism', but that is a separate issue.





How did you arrive at where
you currently are in your thinking about IR?    




I began with Eurasianism, from which I
came to geopolitics (the Eurasianist Petr Savitskii quoted the
British geopolitician Halford Mackinder) and remained for a long
time in that framework, developing the theme of the dualism of Land and Sea and
applying it to the actual situation That is how the Eurasian school of
geopolitics arose, which became not simply the dominant, but the only school in
contemporary Russia. As a professor at Moscow State University, for six years I
was head of the department of the Sociology of International Relations, which
forced me to become professionally familiar with the classical theories of IR,
the main authors, approaches, and schools. Because I have long been interested
in postmodernism in philosophy (I wrote the book Post-philosophy on the subject), I paid special attention to
post-positivism in IR. That is how I came to IR critical theory,
neo-Gramscianism, and the sociology of IR (John Hobson, Steve Hobden, etc.). I came
to the Theory of a Multipolar World, which I eventually developed myself,
precisely through superimposing geopolitical dualism, Carl Schmitt's theory of the Grossraum, and John Hobson's critique of
Western racism and the euro-centrism of IR.





In your opinion, what would
a student need in order to become a specialist in IR?



In
our interdisciplinary time, I think that what is most important is familiarity
with philosophy and sociology, led by a paradigmatic method: the analysis of
the types of societies, cultures, and structures of thought along the line
Pre-Modernity – Modernity – Post-Modernity. If one learns to trace semantic
shifts in these three epistemological and ontological domains, it will help one
to become familiar with any popular theories of IR today. Barry Buzan's (Theory
Talk #35)
theory of international systems is an example of such a generalizing and very
useful schematization. Today an IR specialist must certainly be familiar with
deconstruction and use it at least in its elementary form. Otherwise, there is
a great danger of overlooking what is most important.



Another very important competence is
history and political science. Political science provides generalizing,
simplifying material, and history puts schemas in their context. I would only
put competence in the domain of economics and political economy in third place,
although today no problem in IR can be considered without reference to the
economic significance of processes and interactions. Finally, I would earnestly
recommend to students of IR to become familiar, as a priority, with geopolitics
and its methods. These methods are much simpler than theories of IR, but their
significance is much deeper. At first, geopolitical simplifications produce an
instantaneous effect: complex and entangled processes of world politics are
rendered transparent and comprehensible in the blink of an eye. But to sort out
how this effect is achieved, a long and serious study of geopolitics is
required, exceeding by far the superficiality that limits critical geopolitics
(Ó Tuathail et. al.): they stand at the beginning of
the decipherment of geopolitics and its full-fledged deconstruction, but they
regard themselves as its champions. They do so prematurely.





What
does it entail to think of global power relations through a spatial lens ('Myslit prostranstvom')?  



This is the most important thing. The
entire philosophical theme of Modernity is built on the dominance of time. Kant
already puts time on the side of the subject (and space on the side of the
body, continuing the ideas of Descartes and even Plato), while Husserl and Heidegger
identify the subject with time altogether. Modernity thinks with time, with
becoming. But since the past and future are rejected as ontological entities,
thought of time is transformed into thought of the instant, of that which is
here and now. This is the basis for the ephemeral understanding of being. To
think spatially means to locate Being outside the present, to arrange it in
space, to give space an ontological status. Whatever was impressed in space is
preserved in it. Whatever will ripen in space is already contained in it. This
is the basis for the political geography of Friedrich Ratzel and subsequent geopoliticians. Wagner's Parsifal ends with the words of
Gurnemanz: 'now time has become space'. This is a proclamation of the triumph
of geopolitics. To think spatially means to think in an entirely different way
[topika]. I think that postmodernity has already partly arrived at this
perspective, but has stopped at the threshold, whereas to cross the line it is
necessary to break radically with the entire axiomatic of Modernity, to really
step over Modernity, and not to imitate this passage while remaining in
Modernity and its tempolatry. Russian people are spaces [Russkie lyudi prostranstva],
which is why we have so much of it. The secret of Russian identity is concealed
in space. To think spatially means to think 'Russian-ly', in Russian.





Geopolitics
is argued to be very popular in Russia nowadays. Is geopolitics a new thing,
from the post-Cold War period, or not? And if not, how does current
geopolitical thinking differ from earlier Soviet (or even pre-soviet)
geopolitics?



It is an entirely new form
of political thought. I introduced geopolitics to Russia at the end of the 80s,
and since then it has become extremely popular. I tried to find some traces of
geopolitics in Russian history, but besides Vandam, Semyonov-Tyan-Shansky, and a few
short articles by Savitskii, there was nothing. In the USSR, any allusion to
geopolitics was punished in the harshest way (see the 'affair of the
geopoliticians' of the economic geographer Vladimir Eduardovich Den and his group).
At the start of the 90s, my efforts and the efforts of my followers and
associates in geopolitics (=Eurasianism) filled the worldview vacuum that
formed after the end of Soviet ideology. At first, this was adopted without
reserve by the military (The Military Academy of the General Staff
of the Armed Forces of Russia), especially under Igor Rodionov. Then,
geopolitics began to penetrate into all social strata. Today, this discipline
is taught in the majority of Russian universities. So, there was no Soviet or
pre-Soviet geopolitics. There is only the contemporary Eurasian school, which
took shape at the end of the 80s. Foundations
of Geopolitics was the first programmatic text of this school, although I had
published most of texts in that book earlier, and some of them were circulated
as texts in government circles. Recently, in 2012, I released two new
textbooks: Geopolitics and The Geopolitics of Russia, which
together with The War of Continents
are the results of work in this field, along four axes. 





In
your book International Relations, not
yet published in English, you set out your Theory of a Multipolar World as a
distinct IR theory. What are the basic components of the Theory of a Multipolar
World—and how is it different from classical realism?



In order to be understood
and not get into the details, I can say that the Theory of a Multipolar World
seriously and axiomatically adopts Samuel Huntington's thesis about the
plurality of civilizations. Russia has its own author, who claimed the same
thing more than a hundred years ago: Nikolay Danilevsky, and then the Eurasianists.
However, everything starts from precisely this point: civilization is not one,
but many. Western civilization's pretension to universalism is a form of the
will to domination and an authoritarian discourse. It can be taken into account
but not believed. It is nothing other than a strategy of suppression and
hegemony. The following point follows: we must move from thinking in terms of
one civilization (the racism of euro-centric versions of IR) to a pluralism of
subjects. However, unlike realists, who take as the subject of their theory
nation-states, which are themselves products of the European, bourgeois, modern
understanding of the Political, the Theory of a Multipolar World proposes to
take civilizations as subjects. Not states, but civilizations. I call them
'large politeiai', or civilizations, corresponding to Carl Schmitt's 'large
spaces'. As soon as we take these civilizations—'large politeiai'—as subjects,
we can then apply to them the full system of premises of realism: anarchy in
the international system, sovereignty, the rationality of egoistic behavior,
etc. But within these 'politeiai', by contrast, a principle more resembling
liberalism, with its pacifism and integration, operates, only with the
difference that here we are not talking about a 'planetary' or 'global' world,
but about an intra-civilizational one; not about global integration, but about
regional integration, strictly within the context of civilizational borders.
Post-positivism, in turn, helps here for the deconstruction of the
authoritarian discourse of the West, which masks its private interests by
'universal values', and also for the reconstruction of civilizational identity,
including with the help of technological means: civilizational elites,
civilizational media, civilizational economic algorithms and corporations, etc.
That is the general picture.





Your
theory of multipolarity is directed against the intellectual, political, and
social hegemony of the West. At the same time, while drawing on the tools of
neo-Marxist analysis and critical theory, it does not oppose Western hegemony
'from the left', as those approaches do, but on the basis of traditionalism (Rene
Guenon, Julius
Evola), cultural
anthropology, and Heideggerian phenomenology, or 'from the right'. Do you think
that such an approach can appeal to Anglo-American IR practitioners, or is it
designed to appeal mainly to non-Western theorists and practitioners? In short,
what can IR theorists in the West learn from the theory of multipolarity?



According to Hobson's
entirely correct analysis, the West is based on a fundamental sort of racism.
There is no difference between Lewis Morgan's evolutionistic racism
(with his model of savagery, barbarism, civilization) and Hitler's biological
racism. Today the same racism is asserted without a link to race, but on the
basis of the technological modes and degrees of modernization and progress of
societies (as always, the criterion "like in the West" is the general measure).
Western man is a complete racist down to his bones, generalizing his
ethnocentrism to megalomaniacal proportions. Something tells me that he is
impossible to change. Even radical critiques of Western hegemony are themselves
deeply infected by the racist virus of universalism, as Edward Said showed with the
example of 'orientalism', proving that the anticolonial struggle is a form of
that very colonialism and euro-centrism. So the Theory of a Multipolar World
will hardly find adherents in the Western world, unless perhaps among those
scholars who are seriously able to carry out a deconstruction of Western
identity, and such deconstruction assumes the rejection of both Right
(nationalistic) and Left (universalistic and progressivist) clichés. The racism
of the West always acquires diverse forms. Today its main form is liberalism,
and anti-liberal theories (most on the Left) are plagued by the same
universalism, while Right anti-liberalisms have been discredited. That is why I
appeal not to the first political theory (liberalism), nor the second
(communism, socialism), nor to the third (fascism, Nazism), but to something I
call the Fourth Political Theory (or 4PT), based on a
radical deconstruction of the subject of Modernity and the application of
Martin Heidegger's existential analytic method.



Traditionalists are brought
in for the profound critique of Western Modernity, for establishing the
plurality of civilizations, and for rehabilitating non-Western (pre-modern)
cultures. In Russia and Asian countries, the Theory of a Multipolar World is
grasped easily and naturally; in the West, it encounters a fully understandable
and fully expected hostility, an unwillingness to study it carefully, and
coarse slander. But there are always exceptions.





What
is the Fourth Political Theory (4PT) and how is it related to the Theory of a
Multipolar World and to your criticism of the prevailing theoretical approaches
in the field of IR?



I spoke a little about this in the
response to the previous question. The Fourth Political Theory is important for
getting away from the strict dominance of modernity in the sphere of the
Political, for the relativization of the West and its re-regionalization. The
West measures the entire history of Modernity in terms of the struggle of three
political ideologies for supremacy (liberalism, socialism, and nationalism).
But since the West does not even for a moment call into question the fact that
it thinks for all humanity, it evaluates other cultures and civilizations in
the same way, without considering that in the best case the parallels to these
three ideologies are pure simulacra, while most often there simply are no
parallels. If liberalism won the competition of the three ideologies in the
West at the end of the 20th century, that does not yet mean that
this ideology is really universal on a world scale. It isn't at all. This
episode of the Western political history of modernity may be the fate of the
West, but not the fate of the world. So other principles of the political are
needed, beyond liberalism, which claims global domination (=the third
totalitarianism), and its failed alternatives (communism and fascism), which
are historically just as Western and modern as liberalism. This explains the
necessity of introducing a Fourth Political Theory as a political frame for the
correct basis of a Theory of a Multipolar World. The Fourth Political Theory is
the direct and necessary correlate of the Theory of a Multipolar World in the
domain of political theory.





Is
IR an American social science? Is Russian IR as an academic field a
reproduction of IR as an American academic field? If not, how is IR in Russia
specifically Russian?



IR is a Western scientific discipline,
and as such it has a prescriptive, normative vector. It not only studies the
West's dominance, it also produces, secures, defends, and propagandizes it. IR
is undoubtedly an imperious authoritarian discourse of Western civilization, in
relation to itself and all other areas of the planet. Today the US is the core
of the West, so naturally in the 20th century IR became more and
more American as the US moved toward that status (it began as an English
science). It is the same with geopolitics, which migrated from London to
Washington and New York together with the function of a global naval Empire. As
with all other sciences, IR is a form of imperious violence, embodying the will
to power in the will to knowledge (as Michel Foucault explained). IR in Russia remains purely
Western, with one detail: in the USSR, IR as such was not studied. Marxism in
IR did not correspond to Soviet reality, where after Stalin a practical form of
realism (not grounded theoretically and never acknowledged) played a big
role—only external observers, like the classical realist E.H. Carr, understood
the realist essence of Stalinism in IR. So IR was altogether blocked. The first
textbooks started to appear only in the 90s and in the fashion of the day they
were all liberal. That is how it has remained until now. The peculiarity of IR
in Russia today lies in the fact that there is no longer anything Russian
there; liberalism dominates entirely, a correct account of realism is lacking,
and post-positivism is almost entirely disregarded. The result is a truncated,
aggressively liberal and extremely antiquated version of IR as a discipline. I
try to fight that. I recently released an IR textbook with balanced (I hope)
proportions, but it is too early to judge the result.





Stephen
Walt argued in a September
article in Foreign Policy that Russia 'is nowhere near as threatening as the old Soviet
Union', in part because Russia 'no longer boasts an ideology that can rally
supporters worldwide'. Do you agree with Walt's assessment?



There is something to that. Today, Russia
thinks of itself as a nation-state. Putin is a realist; nothing more. Walt is
right about that. But the Theory of a Multipolar World and the Fourth Political
Theory, as well as Eurasianism, are outlines of a much broader and large-scale
ideology, directed against Western hegemony and challenging liberalism,
globalization, and American strategic dominance. Of course, Russia as a
nation-state is no competition for the West. But as the bridgehead of the
Theory of a Multipolar World and the Fourth Political Theory, it changes its
significance. Russian policies in the post-Soviet space and Russia's courage in
forming non-Western alliances are indicators. For now, Putin is testing this
conceptual potential very gingerly. But the toughening of relations with the
West and most likely the internal crises of globalization will at some point
force a more careful and serious turn toward the creation of global alternative
alliances. Nevertheless, we already observe such unions: The Shanghai Cooperation Organization, BRICS, the Eurasian Union—and they require a new
ideology. Not one like Marxism, any universalism is excluded, but also not
simple realist maneuvers of regional hegemons. Liberalism is a global
challenge. The response to it should also be global. Does Putin understand
this? Honestly, I don't know. Sometimes it seems he does, and sometimes it
seems he doesn't.





Vladimir
Putin recently characterized the contemporary world order as follows: 'We have entered a period of differing interpretations and
deliberate silences in world politics. International law has been forced to
retreat over and over by the onslaught of legal nihilism. Objectivity and
justice have been sacrificed on the altar of political expediency. Arbitrary
interpretations and biased assessments have replaced legal norms. At the same
time, total control of the global mass media has made it possible when desired
to portray white as black and black as white'. Do you agree with this
assessment? If so, what is required as a response to this international
situation?



These are true, but rather
naïve words. Putin is just indignant that the West establishes rules in its own
interests, changes them when necessary, and interprets allegedly 'universal
norms' in its own favor. But the issue is that this is the structure of the
will to power and the very organization of logo-phallo-phono-centric discourse.
Objectivity and justice are not possible so long as speech is a monologue. The
West does not know and does not recognize the other. But this means that
everything will continue until this other wins back the right to recognition.
And that is a long road. The point of the Theory of a Multipolar World is that
there are no rules established by some one player. Rules must be established by
centers of real power. The state today is too small for that; hence the
conclusion that civilizations should be these centers. Let there be an Atlantic
objectivity and Western justice. A Eurasian objectivity and Russian justice
will counter them. And the Chinese world or Pax Sinica [world/peace: same word
in Russian] will look different than the Islamic one. Black and white are not
objective evaluations. They depend on the structure of the world order: what is
black and what is white is determined by one who has enough power to determine
it.





How
does your approach help us understand Russia's actions on the world stage
better than other IR approaches do? What are IR analyses of Russia missing that
do not operate with the conceptual apparatus of multipolarity?



Interesting question. Russia's behavior
internationally is determined today by the following factors:



First,
historical inertia, accumulating the power of precedents (the Theory of a
Multipolar World thinks that the past exists as a structure; consequently, this
factor is taken into account from many sides and in detail, while the
'tempocentrism' (Steve Hobden, John Hobson) of classical IR theories drops this
from sight. We have to pay attention to this especially taking into
consideration the fact that Russia is in many ways still a traditional society
and belongs to the 'imperial system' of IR.) There are, besides, Soviet inertia
and stable motives ('Stalinism in IR');



Second,
the projective logic of opposition to the West, stemming from the most practical,
pragmatic, and realist motivations (in the spirit of Caesarism, analyzed by
neo-Gramscians) will necessarily lead Russia (even despite the will of its
leaders) to a systemic confrontation with American hegemony and globalization,
and then the Theory of a Multipolar World will really be needed (classical IR
models, paying no attention to the Theory of a Multipolar World, drop from
sight the possible future; i.e., they rob themselves of predictive potential
because of purely ideological prejudices and self-imposed fears).



But if an opponent underestimates you,
you have more chances to land an unexpected blow. So I am not too disturbed by
the underestimation of the Theory of a Multipolar World among IR theorists.





In
the western world, the divide between academia and policy is often either
lamented ('ivory tower') or, in light of the ideal of academic independence,
deemed absent. This concerns a broader debate regarding the relations between
power, knowledge and geopolitics. How are academic-policy relations in Russia
with regards to IR and is this the ideal picture according to you?



I think that in our case both positions
have been taken to their extreme. On one hand, today's authorities in Russia do
not pay the slightest attention to scholars, dispatching them to an airless and
sterile space. On the other hand, Soviet habits became the basis for servility
and conformism, preserved in a situation when the authorities for the first
time demand nothing from intellectuals, except for one thing: that they not
meddle in socio-political processes. So the situation with science is both
comical and sorrowful. Conformist scholars follow the authorities, but the
authorities don't need this, since they do not so much go anywhere in
particular as react to facts that carry themselves out.





If
your IR theory isn't based on politically and philosophically liberal
principles, and if it criticizes those principles not from the left but from
the right, using the language of large spaces or Grossraum, is it a fascist theory of international relations? Are scholars who characterize your thought as 'neo-fascism',
like Andreas Umland and Anton Shekhovstov, partially correct? If not, why is that characterization
misleading?



Accusations of fascism are simply a
figure of speech in the coarse political propaganda peculiar to contemporary
liberalism as the third totalitarianism. Karl Popper laid the basis for this in
his book The
Open Society and its Enemies, where he reduced the critique of
liberalism from the right to fascism, Hitler, and Auschwitz, and the criticism
of liberalism from the left to Stalin and the GULAG. The reality is somewhat
more complex, but George
Soros,
who finances Umland and Shekhovstov and is an ardent follower of Popper, is
content with reduced versions of politics. If I were a fascist, I would say so.
But I am a representative of Eurasianism and the author of the Fourth Political
Theory. At the same time, I am a consistent and radical anti-racist and
opponent of the nation-state project (i.e. an anti-nationalist). Eurasianism has
no relation to fascism. And the Fourth Political Theory emphasizes that while
it is anti-liberal, it is simultaneously anti-communist and anti-fascist. I
think it isn't possible to be clearer, but the propaganda army of the 'third
totalitarianism' disagrees and no arguments will convince it. 1984 should be
sought today not where many think: not in the USSR, not in the Third Reich, but
in the Soros Fund and the 'Brave New World'. Incidentally, Huxley proved to be
more correct than Orwell. I cannot forbid others from calling me a fascist,
although I am not one, though ultimately this reflects badly not so much on me
as on the accusers themselves: fighting an imaginary threat, the accuser misses
a real one. The more stupid, mendacious, and straightforward a liberal is, the
simpler it is to fight with him.





Does
technological change in warfare and in civil government challenge the
geopolitical premises of classical divisions between spaces (Mackinder's view
or Spykman's) heartland-rimland-offshore continents)? And, more broadly
perhaps, does history have a linear or a cyclical pattern, according to you?



Technological development does not at all
abolish the principles of classical geopolitics, simply because Land and Sea
are not substances, but concepts. Land is a centripetal model of order, with a
clearly expressed and constant axis. Sea is a field, without a hard center, of
processuality, atomism, and the possibility of numerous bifurcations. In a
certain sense, air (and hence also aviation) is aeronautics. And even the word
astronaut contains in itself the root 'nautos', from the Greek word for ship.
Water, air, outer space—these are all versions of increasingly diffused Sea.
Land in this situation remains unchanged. Sea strategy is diversified; land
strategy remains on the whole constant. It is possible that this is the reason
for the victory of Land over Sea in the last decade; after all, capitalism and
technical progress are typical attributes of Sea. But taking into consideration
the fundamental character of the balance between Leviathan and Behemoth, the
proportions can switch at any moment; the soaring Titan can be thrown down into
the abyss, like Atlantis, while the reason for the victory of thalassocracy becomes the source of its
downfall. Land remains unchanged as the geographic axis of history. There is
Land and Sea even on the internet and in the virtual world: they are axes and
algorithms of thematization, association and separation, groupings of resources
and protocols. The Chinese internet is terrestrial; the Western one, nautical.





You
have translated a great number of foreign philosophical and geopolitical works
into Russian. How important is knowledge transaction for the formation of your ideas?



I recently completed the
first release of my book Noomachy,
which is entirely devoted precisely to the Logoi of various civilizations, and
hence to the circulation of ideas. I am convinced that each civilization has
its own particular Logos. To grasp it and to find parallels, analogies, and
dissonances in one's own Logos is utterly fascinating and interesting. That is
why I am sincerely interested in the most varied cultures, from North American
to Australian, Arabic to Latin American, Polynesian to Scandinavian. All the
Logoi are different and it is not possible to establish a hierarchy among them.
So it remains for us only to become familiar with them. Henry Corbin, the French
philosopher and Protestant who studied Iranian Shiism his entire life, said of
himself 'We are Shiites'. He wasn't a Shiite in the religious sense, but
without feeling himself a Shiite, he would not be able to penetrate into the
depths of the Iranian Logos. That is how I felt, working on Noomachy or translating philosophical
texts or poetry from other languages: in particular, while learning Pierce and
James, Emerson and Thoreau, Poe and Pound I experienced myself as 'we are
Americans'. And in the volume devoted to China and Japan, as 'we are
Buddhists'. That is the greatest wealth of the Logos of various cultures: both
those like ours and those entirely unlike ours. And these Logoi are at war;
hence, Noomachy, the war of the
intellect. It is not linear and not primitive. It is a great war. It creates
that which we call the 'human', the entire depth and complexity of which we
most often underestimate.





Final
question. You call yourself the 'last philosopher of empire'. What is
Eurasanism and how does it relate to the global pivot of power distributions?



Eurasianism is a developed worldview, to
which I dedicated a few books and a countless number of articles and
interviews. In principle, it lies at the basis of the Theory of a Multipolar
World and the Fourth Political Theory, combined with geopolitics, and it
resonates with Traditionalism. Eurasianism's main thought is plural
anthropology, the rejection of universalism. The meaning of Empire for me is
that there exists not one Empire, but at minimum two, and even more. In the
same way, civilization is never singular; there is always some other
civilization that determines its borders. Schmitt called this the Pluriverse
and considered it the main characteristic of the Political. The Eurasian Empire
is the political and strategic unification of Turan, a geographic axis of history
in opposition to the civilization of the Sea or the Atlanticist Empire. Today,
the USA is this Atlanticist Empire. Kenneth Waltz, in the context of neorealism
in IR, conceptualized the balance of two poles. The analysis is very accurate,
although he erred about the stability of a bipolar world and the duration of
the USSR. But on the whole he is right: there is a global balance of Empires in
the world, not nation-States, the majority of which cannot claim sovereignty,
which remains nominal (Stephen Krasner's (Theory
Talk #21) 'global hypocrisy'). For
precisely that reason, I am a philosopher of Empire, as is almost every
American intellectual, whether he knows it or not. The difference is only that
he thinks of himself as a philosopher of the only Empire, while I think of
myself as the philosopher of one of the Empires, the Eurasian one. I am more
humble and more democratic. That is the whole difference.





Alexander Dugin is a Russian philosopher,
the author of over thirty books on topics including the sociology of the
imagination, structural sociology, ethnosociology, geopolitical theory,
international relations theory, and political theory, including four books on
the German philosopher Martin Heidegger. His most recent books, only available
in Russian at the moment, are Ukraine: My
War and the multi-volume Noomachia:
Wars of the Intellect. Books translated into English include The Fourth Political Theory,
Putin vs. Putin: Vladimir Putin Viewed
From the Right, and Martin Heidegger: The Philosophy of
Another Beginning.






Related links





Who is Alexander Dugin? Interview with Theory Talks editor Michael Millerman (YouTube)
TheFourth Political Theory website (English): 
Evrazia.tv
(Russian) 
Evrazia.tv
(English) 
Geopolitics.ru
(English version)
InternationalEurasian Movement (English version)
Centerfor Conservative Studies (Russian)

Print version of this Talk (pdf) Russian version

Issue 39.3 of the Review for Religious, May 1980. ; REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS (ISSN 0034-639X), published bi-monthly (every two months), is edited in collaboration wilh faculty members of the Dbpartment 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 Missouri Province Educational Institute; St. Louis, MissQuri, © 1980. By REVIEW FOR REL~O~Ot~S. 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 RF.L~CaOt~S: P.O. Box 6070: Duluth, Minnesota 55802. 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 A nswers Editor Assistant Editor May, 1980 Volume 39 Number 3 Correspondence with the editor and the associate editors, manuscripts and books for review should be sent to REVlF.W FOrt RELIGIOUS; Room 428; 3601 Lindell 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. A Check on Our Availability: The Examen George A. Aschenbrenner, S.J. Father Aschenbrenner is engaged in campus ministry, and at the same time, working nationally with priests and religious. He resides at Scranton University, Scranton, PA 18510. [n an earlier issue (January, 1972, "Consciousness Examen") I had written about a renewed understanding of the traditional lgnatian exercise of the daily examen. In that article I preferred to talk of an "examen of con-sciousness," because most of us had come to understand "conscience" in a narrowly moralistic sense. This had turned the examen into a fairly negative practice, soon discarded when we got into the typically busy apostolic life. To set aside specific time each day to see what we did wrong was not very much help. Nor did the practice enrich our apostolate much, because it gradually turned God into Someone always catching us .doing something wrong--and thus we wrought havoc on our self-esteem. A good sense of self-value, an ef-fective apostolate, and our image of God are always intimately connected. A Positive~ Understanding of the Examen .~: The formal examen should rather be a time of prayer about how much God has loved me in the yery existential details of my day, and how he could have loved me more in certain situations if my inner spiritual decisiveness and external presence had been a bit different. This is not just a different articula-tion of the meaning of the examen. Rather, it leads to an enormous difference attitudinally and effectively. A healthy self-esteem has to be ultimately and ir-revocably rooted in our Father's love, climaxed in his victory in Jesus. This neither excessively highlights, nor denies, my daily sinful weakness. Rather it leads to a consoling humiliation, found in a Father's forgiveness that is con- 321 :322 / Review for Religious, V~olume 39, 1980/3 stantly available in Jesus as my personal savior. In this way, the daily effect of my sinful condition is not to tear down self-worth, but to build up true apostolic humility, which itself is the source of genuine self-esteem. This positive understanding of the examen helps avoid another fallacy. Many times the full, rich prayer of the consciousness examen shrinks into a quick, superficial reflection over the day, and the five traditional elements of the examen thus collapse into the third element by itself--a general survey of the day's activities. The formal examen, however, was never intended to be just a quick thinking-over of the day. It is supposed to be prayer--and that within a fairly specific form, one related to the daily contemplation but not identical with it. And if the examen is to be chiefly about God's love for me, then gratitude should play a major affective role. Of course, it is the gratitude of a sinner who is at peace with the nothing he can do on his own, because he is still wonderfully learning how our Father's love turns everything to good--even his own sinfulness. The Examen Is Essential to Availability In the conclusion of his letter to the Society. of Jesus on "apostolic availabi_lity," Father General Pedro Arrupe made thi~ statement: To become partly immobile through lack of availability on the part of individuals and the consequent fear of superiors to give them the missions called for by our apostolate today, would constitute a most serious threat to the very existence of our vocation . lgnatian availability is the guarantee and the conditio sine qua non of our practice, which leads to salvation, and alone is of interest to the Society and the Church. A strong claim! My central point here is that the daily examen is the primary means to maintain this disposition of Ignatian and, indeed, of all apostolic availability. Even so, why should a brief period of prayer assume such great impor-tance? This leads us to another insight often neglected in the past. The formal examen-prayer, with its five elements, (usually) lasting about a quarter-hour, is always a means to the informal examen, which is a special faith-sensitivity that is with one all through the day. Often in our early years, we have turned the formal examen-prayer into an end-in-itself, giving to it a rigid fidelity that corrupted its significance. Of course it would be illusory to imagine that we can grow into living the informal examen=sensitivity without the early development of habitual practice of the formal examen and a con-tinuing adaptation of our involvement with this type of daily prayer. Through the informal examen, a person acquires a special ability for discerning (or examining) "presence" in everything. For Ignatius, this quality-presence was more important and extensive than the formal examen-prayer, inasmuch as this presence helps the person to recognize ,the grace of apostolic availability and flexibility that is being'offered in every situation. Apostolic availability is a profound faith-experience that roots one's iden-tity and security in God's love. When a person's security is too rooted in a job The Check on Our A vailability: The Examen / 323 or a place, or even a certain reputation, there results a stubborn rigidity that undermines his availability, just as availability canequally be undermined by a disordered need for change and variety--as when a person is so superficially committed that he really doesn't care whether he's changed or where he's assigned. In that same letter, Father Arrupe pointed up some of the challenges for what we have termed apostolic availability that are especially present in the new directions, institutional involvements and types of service that are re-quired in the modern world. What is fundamental; though, is that availability ¯ is primarilya readiness and sensitivity of heart, not simply a changing of job and/or place. In the heart of a person serving for many years.in the same mis-sion there can be an availability that is very apostolic and invigorating~--and often more difficult than the "availability" that leads to a new assignment. Apostolic availability and genuine perseverance in the same task orplace can never be opposed. In the formal examen, we hold up our day to be seen against the light of God's love. Sometimes this will be more instructive for us than was the experience itself., We may appreciate what we didn't even see in the actual experien.ce. At other times, we can savor the depths implicit in our sensitivity in the actual experience of the day. The continuing informal examen makes us sen-sitive in every situation to a Father's love that is always available, makes us ready to respond in filial 10ve to the Father's desire, as Jesus was--especially on Calvary. At such a point of insight, we see how often our cowardice or disordered desires reveal us to be persons of the "Second Class" (Spiritual Exercises, 154), who seek to make God come to what we desire. This is precisely backwards: consolation and greater apostolic service are to be found in our coming to what God desires. The sensitivity of apostolic availability distinguishes the heart ofa person of the "Third Class" from one of the "Second Class." The difference can become very subtle in one's interior af-fective life, but what~is always at issue is nothing less than better service for the justice of God's kingdom. Availability and Discernment In our sinful human condition, apostolic availability does not at all come naturally to us, but often is born of our decisive dealing with desolation in ac-cordance with the principles of Ignatian discernment. The seven capit.al sins, as inner affective experiences (.before we intentionally act on them), are each a type of desolate violence endemic to our sinful condition. They infringe on, and restrict the freedom of our availability. In decisively going against this desolate violence (see Exercises319), we become interiorly available to God's loving and consoling attractiveness, which a!ways frees us for whatever his Heart desires of us now. In this way, Jesus' own decisive availability to his 324 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Father, in service to our world, is gradually born in our affectivity through our careful living, with all the subtlety of discernment, in the face of our inner, desolate violence. The daily examen is the most practical and regularmeans to practice, this discernment for availability. Our particular examen could then focus on the flaw or weakness that now is most keeping us from this fuller apostolic availability. What is that flaw or weakness? It is not so much something that we decide on, but rather what God will reveal: to us in his loving concern that all of us should belong to him ~ver more totally. By responding to his call through the particular examen, and directing our attention and effort primarily against that flaw or weakness, we are allowing ourselves to be drawn more into the apostolic availability of Jesus where he and we best find the Father. The Examen: An Action-Reflection Model Apostolic renewal is not simply being able to get more done. Apostolic ac-tivity is not measured simply in quantity, but must respond to the dictates of a wise sensitivity in the zealous lover of God. A certain degree of.reflectivity is essential to the growth of this sensitivity. Although in the beginning this reflectivity may seem labored and artificial, as one matures in the Spirit it becomes more integrated, less obvious, and part of the "presence" one has everywhere. There is much talk about various action-reflection models to help renew our apostolic presence, and, indeed, some such model can be an essential instrument and method for apostoli~ religious formation from the novitiate onward. I suggest that the examen is precisely such an action-reflection instru-ment, one that is built right into our daily life, and capable of fostering apostolic availability as a whole way of life open to service to the needs of our world for God's greater glory. In these models, we reflect on our experience, hoping that the reflection will lead us to better quality in our apostolic efforts. Hence the reflection is never for itself, nor directed to a self-centered sanctification, Often in the past, the examen did not have an hpostolic orientation, ~but tended to a suf-focating introspection. As we mature in outpractice Of the examen, the separate steps of action-reflection-action integrate into a sensitivity of presence in the activity that makes us available in everything for the call of our Father's love, in whatever way he desires for his greater glory in our world. Just as the routine and regularity of the daily order help to keep the con-templative monk attuned to God, so the examen can keep the apostolic religious, who is both active and contemplative, a~ttuned to God's love, and allow us, mortified by apostolic availability, to find in everything of this world a son's filial, loving service of his Father. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation Carl F. Stark/off,' S.J.~ Father Starkloff's last article in our pages, "Oppression, Death and Liberation: Thoughts in a Context," appeared in the issue of November, 1978. He continues as superior and director of St. Stephens Indian Mission; P.O. Box 294; St. Stephens, WY 82524. The', title of the recently published National CatecheticalDirectory--Sharing The Light of Faiths'is more provocative than one might think upon first sight, if one reads it as a missionary statement. It can be interpreted in the light of a eatechesis that is meant tO instruct Catholics in the faith handed on through baptism. But if we examine those places in the DireCtory that dis'cuss the relationship between faith and culture,' we may be sufficiently disturbed to make us probe more deeply the rfieaning of what it is to share our faith. To speak of the missionary apostolate brings to mind the turbulent history of the exegesis of the so-called "Great Commission" in Matthew 28:18-20, which is placed on the lips of the risen Christ as he sends forth his joyous (though not yet spiritually rejuvenated) disciples to teach all nations about the source of their joy. This gospel mandate began a missionary enterprise that sent preachers of the Good News throughout the known world and outward to the barbarians of northern Europe, the East and to the far-off British Isles. J. Verkuyl points out that the early reformers, probably because of their sense of urgency to establish their movement among European Christians, wanted (mistakenly) to restrict Jesus' mandate to the time of the Apostolic Age.2 The ~ Sharing the Light of Faith: National Catechetical Directory for Catholics of the I~lnited States (Washington: United States Catholic Conference, 1979). See especially pp. 7-16; 85-98; 116-119. 2 j. Verkuyl, Contemporary Missiology: An Introduction, tr. Dale Cooper (Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Pub. Co., 1978), pp. 18-19. 325 326 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 nineteenth century, however, witnessed phenomenal growth in mission activi-ty among all Christian denominations, and the confident expansionist attitudes of the period endured up to the mid-point of, our own century. Today, however, there is a widespread "malaise" among missionaries, as Walbert Buhlmann puts it, though he is careful to note that such a condition is one environment that can nurture hope.~ In any case, there is a c'risis of confidence in the Church's self-image as a "sent" community, and the crisis extends back from the mission frontiers into families and communities, and into individual souls, as Christians question their right and duty to "spread the Gospel." This is a cultural and theological crisis that offers promise of much growth in understanding of the relationship between faith-proclamation and cultural sharing, or, to view it from the dark side, between preaching the Good News and cultural imperialism. A great quantity of material is flowing, from the pens of missiologists about this prob-lem, and there are various theories dealing with the faith-culture question. I have shared in this effort elsewhere. This article, however, is an attempt at a "spirituality" that might further an experiential approach to faith and culture as it is rooted in the life of prayer. Fundamentally, prayer is at the root of this crisis that touches catechesis in the "established" Church, and ,even touches relationships between parents and children. Chesterton wrote somewhere that to deny the right of parents to teach religion to their children is to deny them the right to teach them anything. If our prayer lacks conviction, we are easy prey to dp~bts about this right and duty. In this article, I do not intend to discuss whether there should be missions; I happen to believe there should be. Nor do I intend to take up the much-debated question of a "moratorium on missions"; 1 happen to believe that missions are part and parcel of Christianity. That "mission" should be done differently, with consideration of mutual'resources and values between the missionary and the local culture is beyond iluestion.And that mission should cease to be mission and become church is a prominent New Testament value articulated by St. Paul in his dealing~ with theJocal churches. But amid all the discussion of liberation and oppression, of imperialism and colonialism, of faith and culture, there shines the Light at the center, who is Jesus Christ--the only ultimate justification for all missions. The love of God as manifested in him must be preached-- no doubt in a~.growing way much more by Africans and Asiatics and Other third world people t.o p~eople of the first and second worlds. But they, too, must heed their calling to be transparent mes~sengers. The transparency of which I speak is primarily a question of the missionary's "spiritual life, and that is the subject of this article. A recent b~ok on mission spirituality stresses the importance of the mis-" sionary's life-style for his or her witness to the Gospel. Michael Reilly writes: ~ Walbert Buhlmann, O.F.M., Cap., The Coming of the Third Church, trans. Ralph Woodhall, S.J. (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1977), p. 405. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 327 How can the life-styles of these countless men and women who did so much to spread Christianity in the early centuries be described? There is no lack of testimony and evidence on this point. It can be summarized under five categories: the transformation and moral uprightness of their personal lives, their fellowship and social concern for others, their joy, their endurance under hardship and persecution, and the power which they exercised by virtue of their faith.' This iri general speaks of the awesome demands laid upon the missioi~er. Certainly no mission labors c~in be sustained without these qualities, to which we will more explicitly add perseverance in profound daily prayer, even and especially amid the many "dark nights" that cultural conflicts can create or intensify. The growih in a person's ~n spiritual life should be a continuing conv'er-sion in the intellectual, moral and religious orders, of which Bernard Lonergan writes in the transcendental phenomenology of his theological method.~ Missionaries above all, because they confront so many new and challenging experiences, must undergo such conversion, which is fed by, and, in return, nourishes a gospel-centered awareness. The,apostle must have also that unqualified, unreserved "being in love with God" that Lonergan calls religious faith,6 and this faith should be anchored in the historical reality that is:Christianity. Lonergan writes: ""There is a personal entrance of God himself into history, a communication of God to his people, the advent of God's word into the world of religious expression.'" The missionary will have to apply this dynamic of constant growth to cultural realities and religious values, as well as to his or.her own sources of spiritual power, experiencing these with both.pas-sionate involvement and prayerful detachment. The title "missionary" is not only audacious and shocking; it is unforgivably arrogant unless one assumes in it the motive that stems from the experienCed knowledge of Jesus Christ as the embodied presence of God's love in the world. This love incarnate becomes most explicit in the various' gospel texts that order the proclamation of salvation to all peoples. To preach eternal salvation is fundamental to all missionary zeal. But because salvation is incarnate for the Christian, his preaching cannot merely" project salvation into eternity, disembodied and unattached. The Good News calls people to ex-perience God's love and kindness within temporal existence, Otherwise, why take creation with any seriousness, at all? Our reading of the various reports of the life. and work of Jesus of Nazareth has been conditioned by our catechetical upbringing. We have learned to see Jesus as laying down his life when.he wills to do so, meanwhile battling with the scribes and pharisees in their apparent hypocrisy and their intransigent insistence on external conduct. But it is to the credit of the Michael Collins Reilly, S.J., Spirituality For Mission (Maryknoll, N.Y.: Orbis Books, 1978), p. 53. Bernard J. F. Lonergan, Method in Tti'eology (New York: Herder and Herder, 1972), pp. 3-25. Ibid., p. 105, ' Ibid., p. 119. 32~1 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 "liberation theologians" that they have forced us to become aware of the pervasive and persistent struggle of Jesus to win for the poor of Yahweh a humane existence, snatching their lives from the hands of powers that oppress them with needless burdens and joyless, unwarranted submissiveness to human domination. Thus missionary zeal is summoned to examine itself about its concern for a basic humaneness of life; it should feel great pain whenever the Good News is kept from persons because they are humiliated and demeaned, when they suffer oppression or oppress one another. Indeed, our spiritual resources must be strong enough to make us believe that faith can thrive under oppression, but our contemplation of the Gospel also shows us that Jesus fought conditions that enslaved people, Jesus' mission, and that of the Church, is to work for the conditions that permit a joyous and free wor-ship of God. This is a profound social dimension of the Gospel that more and more who read it are coming to perceive. For the prayerful and devout Christian, one of the most urgent motives-- perhaps the motive--for mission.activity, at least in the year~; of Catholic and Protestant missions since the sixteenth century, has been the brooding con-templation of countless hordes of souls going to hell because they did not con-fess Jesus Christ. With the reflective work of modern theology and Vatican Council 1I (rooted incidentally in some very good and very old "natural theology"!), we may still have concern for our neighbor's salvation, but there is also the opportunity for a more enlightened appreciation of the values to be found in the religious traditions of all peoples, and for a more modest assess-ment of the spiritual condition of the non-Christian. This appreciation of the spiritual values of other religion, along with the sense of a Gospel permeated with social values, leaves mission theorists with the task of formulating new attitudes towards the mission apostolate. In fact, this qualifying of the sense of missionary urgency has led to a growing spiritual crisis for many church people, most especially those in an active mission apostolate. Toward a Missionary Spirituality The approach to prayer that I hav~ chosen to discuss here is one that might help the follower of Christ to find "seeds of the word" and a means of salva-tion in the religions of non-Christians or in elements of tribal spirituality not explicitly Christian. At the same time, however, it seems to me a nullification of the Christian vocation to deny or to bypass the person of Jesus Christ, taken both historically and in the Pauline cosmic dimension, as the fullness of divine grace intended to be the Father's greatest gift to humanity. 1 do not say this as a scriptural or dogmatic fundamentalist: the praying Christian should also be an inquirer into the more sophisticated areas of comparative religion and scripture scholarship. Still, whatever level of hermeneutics we may under-take, the New Testament constantly reminds us that courteous dialogue with non-Christians is only part of our calling. The prayerful realization of what Christ means in my life can do no less than move me to tell my dialogue Missionary Player and the Problem of Inculturation / 329 partner how utterly central Christ is for me. What the other does with his ex-perience of my witness is a matter of his personal decision, always to be respected. But that person should know that my life of prayer has shone out through my personal testimony and conduct. Juan Luis Segundo has proposed a helpful approach to the centrality of Christ and tile witness of the Church. He reminds us that the principle "no salvation outside the Church" should not be taken as a matter of church boundaries but rather that it deals with the mediatory role of the Church.8 Segundo calls the Churcha reality at once particular (pertaining to cultural realities), since it is a historical movement serving as a sacrament, and univer-sal, since it serves as a medium of salvation: "It is the expression of the mystery of Christ himself.''9 In Christ the missionary preaches God's love to people, and if he feels unable to broadcast the triumphalistic boast that no one outside the Church will be saved, he is still conscious of the unique gift of Christ. Segundo calls the Christian "one who knows"-- knows Christ as the beginning of the Father's plan that moves into the future and permeates all of time. The Christian is not the only one to enter into this plan, but he is the one who knows it through Revelation.'° This is anything but a revival of primitive gnosticism; it is rather a consciousness (grounded in prayer) of the gift of sav-ing knowledge and the acceptance of a calling found through hearing the Word of God. Such a "knowledge" given.to the Christian is the content as well as the experience of conversion, a living faith that Lonergan calls an "other-worldly falling in love."" What the Christian knows then becomes the driving force for the labor of proclamation. It is, for one thing, a deeply biblical spirituality, for our encounter with the Word of God in Scripture and preaching is our summons to mission. However, I have chosen here to offer a more particular approach or method based on resources within my own Jesuit order, hoping that these resources will serve others in developing a mission-centered prayer life. Recent documents of the Society of Jesus remind us that the Jesuit's self-knowledge is found in the sense of being a sinner who is nonetheless called to be a companion of Jesus.'2 We redeemed sinners are by vocation a "com-munity of dispersion," ready to be sent on mission." The basic dynamic of this vocation, paralleling similar resources in other communities, is the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius o( Loyola, which, made, serve to mediate the gospel-conversion-mission experience. Examining the experience of conversion and mission, we immediately con- 8 Juan Luis Segundo, S.J., Tr. John Drury, A Theology For Artisans of a New Humanity (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1973), Vol. I, p. 76. 9 Ibid., p. 78. ,o Ibid., p. 13. " Lbnergan, Op. Cit., p. 240, ,2 See Documents of The 31st and 32rid General Con.gregations of the Society o f Jesus (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1977), p. 401. ,3 Ibid., p. 405. 330 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 front the problem/mystery of Christ and culture, of the universal sway and dominion of the Risen Christ .and the particular authenticity of cultural values. Indeed, the Exercises are themselves a partictilar cultural phenomenon within which the Christian faith is rekindled and nourished, and which have proved themselves to contain certain universal values. One who truly receives the liberating love of God in the Exercises comes in touch with the sovereign God in a discovery so powerfully expressed by Karl Barth: The love of God stands where there is disclosed, beyond and above and in the twofold negation, the preeminent affirmation--Jesus Christ, the .Resurrection and the Life~ Blessed discovery! God stands in light inaccessible. Blessed discovery! All flesh is as grass and all the glory of men is as the flower of the field. When, in spirit and truth, one of these discoveries is made, the other is involved in it, for both are in fact operations of the One God, whose universal majesty is the "Yes" in the"No.'"' The gift of a knowledge0of the love of God is so moving and powerful (perhaps in a very quiet way), that it is no wonder that enemies of the lgnatian Exercises have called them a brainwashing. The radical freedom of Christian conversion, as Barth so stirringly tells it above, calls us into a permanent state of tension. This tension is made up of what, to borrow from a number of spiritual writers, we might call "moments" of the Exercises--the two moments of conversion and of mission, I call them moments in the sense that they are kairoi, transcendent of any chronological order; they are experienced in an interweaving rather than in succession, and not merely in time of retreat but in the insertion into comrhunity and ministry. In the Exercises, the first truth one comes to grips with is God's sovereign-ty over one's life and destiny. One has to wrestle with and deeply assent to the fact that we are created to praise, reverence:and serve God, and thus come to salvation. I use the word "wrestle" here because the ascesis of,the Exercises contains much wrestling (though in the end we seethe folly of all this muscle!); no human being readily surrenders his or her own sovereignty andautonomy to anyone, even to God. Nor should they readily surrender. We are persons gifted with dignity, and until we realize that this dignity can be brought to final perfection in God alone, through obedience rather than abject slavery (an important reflection in ministry to the oppressed), we should not sur-render our autonomy. Yet we finally do have to surrender to God as Chris-tians, having,wrestled with him and been so wounded that we manifest in our very steps, as Jacob did, the divine-human struggle that eventuates in our ob-taining his blessing. Then the believer, too, becomes an Israel who realizes that all this effort was part of a foolish bout with God's love. I wish to return to this matter of conversion later, for it is the genuine source of crisis (under-stand "decision") in the missionary's grasp'of problems of culture and social justice. Karl Barth, The Epistle to the Romans, tr. Edwyn Hoskyas (London: Oxford University Press, 1965), p. 321. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of lnculturation / 331 Once the Christian has yielded to divine sovereignty (or arrived at a stage of acceptance, for the faith-choice that expresses this yielding occurs many times in "becoming a Christian"), he has again accepted the reality of his own sinfulness--the disobedience, the recalcitrance, the anger at God's insistence on submission. There goes with this an even more difficult acceptance of divine love, for within our sinfulness we find an inability to let ourselves be loved, and even glory in perversely thinking about God's "No" to us and fear His "Yes." With the opening to grace we rejoice in that essential Christian ex-perience of acceptance of self as loved by God. The loving power of Christ is the "tree of life" that nourishes our circle of existence at its very center--a powerful Amerindian image that indicates a wholeness of life based on devo-tion to its source. But the moment of conversion is hardly complete with repentance, or with the return of the prodigal. The once-lost younger son will discover now the meaning of mature membership in his father's household, that it is shared life and companionship, but also involvement in the labor and the suffering. Such a call to deeper filial piety may well bethe sequel to the Prodigal Son parable, in which the erring but more attractive younger son is equalized with the dour older brother who we all quietly tend to scorn. The sin in all of us resists true belonging. Thi~ is why the SpiritualExercises lead the Christian to understand what it is for Christ to be a "King" in our lives, for him to have a loving sovereignty 'rather than by an imperious and aloof barking of orders that avoids deeper ih~,olvement. David Fleming describes the Meditation on the Kingdom of Christ as the placing of oneself into a "mythical situation, or the kind of story-truth of which fairy tales are made."'~ One seeks to know Christ in whatever fashion one may need in ~order to bring home the fact of his lord-ship. The meditation on Christ's kingdom is thus thematic forall contemplation of the life, death and. resurrection of Christ. All the while meditating on the ministry of Jesus, a retreatant prays for the grace to know him more intimately, to love him with grea~er intensity and to follow him more closely. One can begin to attempt this radical Christian prayer, having first meditated on the mystery of the Incarnation, which we shall later take as the basic model for the missionary apostolate. St. Ignatius presents the Incarnation con~ templation as a mental trylStich, representing the Godhead in heaven, humani-ty struggling on earth, and the young woman of Nazareth who assents to the mysterious calling to' archtypically stand for every Christian's response to God. This meditation enters into the second moment, or moment of mission, but first of all it reminds the Christian that the essential grace to be gained from meditating on the life of Christ is "an interior knowledge of the '~ David L. Fleming, SoJo The Spiritual Exercises: A Literal Translation and a Contemporary Reading (St. Louis: Institute of Jesuit Sources, 1978), p. 65. 332 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Lord, who for me has become man, that I may more love and follow him.'''6 This "for me" (so dear to St. Ignatius-- as well as to Martin Luther!) is the ex-pression of faith in a God who never remains for himself alone but perpetually gives of himself. It is the expression of the love of a missionary God. As the Christian enters more deeply into the mystery of the Incarnation, he realizes how much of the sinner hangs on, and how the moment of conversion is ever-present. As the Meditation on the Two Standards or Two Leaders-- Christ and Satan- shows us, the threat of fear and pride and exaltation of the false self is never far away. Within the gospel accounts one also contemplates types of persons who experience different degrees of submission to God, and so asks himself in what way this reflection applies personally to one's life. As the dread reality of St. Luke's journey to Jerusalem looms up, the Christian is made to realize, along with St. Matthew's newly appointed head of the Church, the still unconverted :Simon Peter, that each one of us shares in that journey. Somewhere within this period of meditation, St. Ignatius' Three Modes of Humility challenge the follower of Christ with the call not merely to avoid all sin, but to enter into his poverty and humiliation and suffering-~-to share fully in his mission. The Third Week of the Exercises is an entering into the fullest meaning of the passion of Christ, not merely with tears of empathy but with readiness for full association. The apostolic moment of the Exercises is mysteriously present here: one comes to sense the many possible challenges that could in the future demand a personal appropriation of the kenosis of the Son of God. Once again, the Christian may fear Christ and remain_ sitting outside the Garden of Olives, only to fall asleep, to avoid the grim strain of apprehension. Or, the disciple might insist with Peter that he will never betray Jesus, and almost in the same moment deny even being with him. We thus discover that it was a relatively simple matter to love God in a childish way as our understand-ing Father, in contrast to our acceptance of his Son as an intimate friend. Friendship can demand so much, and we fear the maturity that it requires, especially when we find that the Son of God, in his hour of greatest need, calls his disciples "friends." This is the opportunity to pass even more dramatically through the ever-deepening dying of "becoming a Christian," which, as Kierkegaard wrote, is all that we ever do in relation to Christ; we never fully "arrive" in this life. But if the Christian perseveres in prayer, there may come, finally, the gift of identification ~,ith Christ in which the cloak of sinfulness falls away and true companionship is accepted. If the Christian embraces the mystery of the cross (according to his or her own personal vocation), there comes that peace which pervades one's prayer at the. entrance to the sepu!chre. A true Christian is a child of the Resurrection, an heir to the joys of the Ibid., p. 70. Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 333 triumphant Christ, and a bearer of that joy. The Christian contemplates and absorbs the spirit of the risen life as the spirit of his own life, and, according to Ignatius, reaches holiness through sharing the joy of the Friend who has defeated death. It should be no surprise that this experience, too, is a conver-sion in the intellectual, moral and religious dimensions of life. We do not easily accept joy in our lives, or the fact that we are created for joy, as C. S. Lewis was astonished to discover. In the face of the grief in the world (and, if we are idealistic missionaries or social activists, our own tenden-cy to take too seriously our personal warfare with all this grief), we find it hard to transform our, solemn frowns into laughter of rejoicing. Perhaps we cannot but think of God as the Ruler of Olympus who becomes jealous of our hubris at thinking we might ever simply be happy. And there is that temptation to sadness in the anticipation of apostolic struggles. So conversion to Christian joy, and the mission to share that joy, are again telescoped into two moments of one experience. St. Ignatius did not leave us simply to contemplate the Resurrection with the first disciples. He has bequeathed to us the Contemplation for Obtaining Divine Love, which is summed up in God's desire to share himself with his friends. There is given here a recapitulation of all good gifts that descend from the Father of Lights in whom there is no shadow, (Jm 1:16-17). We consider all gifts received, and more, we affirm ourselv~es as gifts of God's favor. A joy-filled Christian can thus say: Take, Lord, and receive all my liberty, my memory, my intellect, and all my will--all that 1 have and possess. You gave it to me;to you, Lord, 1 return it. All is yours, dispose of it according to your will. Give me only your love and grace, for this is enough for me." This contemplation also expresses an aspect of the apostolic moment, both in the call to offer one's gifts in the divine Service, and in the vision of God dwelling in and giving life to all creatures. The consideration of the labor of God within all things helps to feel his presence as the very life of the ministry. There is here, too, a profound theodicy that enlightens the missionary about the working of the Holy Spirit in all created reality, where the Word is somehow present before his preaching even begins. It is a great blessing for an aspiring young missionary (or an older one seeking renewal) to be able to sum up his spiritual experience with the vision of all good gifts descending from above--the gifts of justice, goodness, pity and mercy--"as from the sun des-cend the rays, from the fountains the waters." This is ongoing conversion in the highest sense. The Translation of Prayer Into Mission Let us get "practical" about all of this. Where does one go missiologically Ibid., p. 140. 334 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 with the experience of conversion-mission? If I am a redeemed sinner, saved by God from my own self-oppression as well as from the,oppression of false spirits, l am under a mandate t~ p.roclaim that experience to all people. Fur-ther, as Barth has written, we have surrendered our old way of thinkingto the divine "No" and thus ~have been .renewed in a life of grace through His "Yes." To believe that one is saved is the ultimate experience of freedom, and if one has been gifted with a share in God's holiness, he may even sense a call to relinquish homeland and culture in order to announce that freedom to others. Such a state of soul is a great gift and a great mystery; it is also a great problem, and without ongoing intellectual conversion, can leave one open to many deceptions. There is hidden in this experience the danger that the con-verted Christian will interpret some of the chltural trappings of his conversion as essential to conversion itself. In fact, I woul,d venture the guess that much of the zeal to save "savages" has arisen from an uneducated state of mind in x, relation to what one sees as their "unhappy and primitive state." Metanoia in its most profound etymological sense must be part of any missionary prepara-tion and part of an ongoing learning process. Perhaps the most helpful spiritual approach to a missionary openness to foreign experiences is faith in the Incarnation as a continuing contemplation. So St. Ignatius' Meditation on the Incarnation might well serve as the fun-damental reflection of the apostolic moment of the Exercises.lncarnational theology has, of course, been thematic in the thought of theologians and in Church documents since Vatican Council II. Its frame of reference is the historical context of gospel proclamation, which stresses the service of Christ and his Church to .the temporal order, and the hope this service offers to humanity for a more truly di~,ine-human life. A healthy incarnationalism is also eschatoiogical, and in its optimism does not forget the reality of sin. It realizes that God's becoming human does not empty him of his transcendence but rather gifts humanity with a share in that transcendence. In simple w~ords, the Incarnation has its total fulfillment outside history and awaits the kingdom of God in faith even as it expresses its presence already. In. the con-rex: of missiology, incarnational theology proclaims the en-flesh-ment of God within cultures, and challenges all cultures to reach beyond themselves. Ignatius Loyola was a man of great sensitivity to the ways in which the Gospel is to be received humanly, as his instruction for the use of the senses in prayer attests. The Contemplation on the Incarnation is an experience of the divine entering history, of the Good News transforming human cultures and confronting the evils that threaten what is truly of God's creation in them. ln-culturation does pose a tension, if not even a dilemma, for the Christian, as I have already indicated. The zealous missionary who is filled with a desire to show Christ's love to the world iS a person who has acquired the gift of detach-ment from a familiar environment, though perhaps not to the degree he may think he has acquired it. Even the most dedicated Christian carries his or her native culture along as mental and affective baggage, and tends to extend that Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 335 culture, along with the Gospel, to other peoples. To offer the good things of one's own culture to others is a natural and authentic aspiration, if one is aware that these things are not coextensive with the Good News of Christ. This awareness can come only from a deep study'of the culture and from a "participation" in it to whatever degree is compatible with Christianity. Another factor of great importance is the relationship the Christian, has towards the people to whom he is missioned,. There is a danger that one will project one's own degree of commitment into these people, and thus expect of them too soon that same kind of response. Likewise, to compare one's own "surrender" or submission to God, acquired with the help of many cultural blessings and advantages, to the enslavement of oppressed peoples and its concomitant apathy or resistance, is of course a tragic confusion of entirely different experiences. Worse yet, one might even miss the signs of a people's dedication simply out of a failure to comprehend their ways of expressing it. However, meditation on the Incarnation, if we supplement it with proper cultural training, inserts us into the saving love°of the Godhead as well as into the infinite patience and empathy of Jesus Christ, who met people "where they were," living with them in their struggles and calling them to converison. Christ never destroyed or shattered a person's life, however great a shock he may have dealt, but rather uplifted and sanctified the life of every person. In the Contemplat!on on the Incarnation, St. Ignatius in. structs the retreat-ant to "see" the various persons in the eye of the imagination: "those on the surface of the earth, in such variety in dress and in actions; some white and others black; some in peace and others in war; some weeping and others laughing; some well, others ill; some being born,, and others dying . ,,,8 One is to continue by imagining how so many live in blindness, how they swear and blaspheme, how th6y kfli and go down to hell. And in the same mental exer-cise, we are shown how Father, Son and Holy Spirit conspire to work out the salvation of the suffering human race, and how the messenger Gabriel goes to speak to the Virgin of Nazareth. Whatever Ignatius had in mind as he described the misery of our race (in his own cultural terms!), and however we may have evolved in our attitudes about,how many benighted pagans are going into damnation, a sensitive response to his vision of a suffering humanity draws one deeply into a sharing of the human condition. The point here is that human beings have always injured and oppressed one another in various ways; but the much stronger aspect of this truth(See St. Paul'spollo mallon in Romans 5.) is that all types and cultures, all races and .nationalities, enter into the divine compassionate vision and its willto save and transform. Those who are to be saved will be saved as black or white or red or yellow, whether they wear three-piece-suits or loincloths or nothing at a!l, whether their music is rendered by pipe organs or jazz bands or ancient drums. We do not really know what God has in mind to Ibid., p. 72. 336 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 do with diversity in the kingdom of heaven; we do know that he has a total disregard for differences as far as the equal dispensation of his kindness is concerned. Thus a meditation on the Incarnation, if carried through with full involve-ment, takes a missionary into the midst of the culture he serves. It prods him to study anthropology and sociology and comparative religion, both in books and in lived exp~erience, as well as to do all that is necessary tomake him atten-tive, intelligeni, reasonable and responsible. It serves as the affective nourish-ment of all the intellectual and procedural efforts one may bring to work in a foreign culture. It would seem, therefore, that a missioner's own prayer life would change, to some degree, along cultural lines: An openness and sensi-tivity to the people will lead to a sharing of indigenous forms of prayer and worship. No matter how hard 1 may try, I will never become a Native American or South African black or campesino, especially if the culture I serve has a history of deep Wounds inflicted by the very society and church I represent. This should in fact be an initial experience of inculturation--to realize that onb is a foreigner or guest, or better, a pilgrim, and that one naturally resists becoming part of a new culture, especially in its startling and strange aspects. But still, we ~can take on many qualities of our environment, and should do so if they insert us better into the life of the people and help us to grow personally. Generally, the first experience of mission life for the outsider is one of conflict. This is emphatically true of all who enter into work among societies suffering from powerful structures and histories of persecution or cultural invasion. To become part of a wounded culture is to absorb inevitably the feel-ings of frustration, anger and despair; to experience the "diminishment" that occurs within as one responds again and again to expressions of these negative feelings. There may also be a deep dissatisfaction with oneself over the failure to remain tranquil and "understanding" in the face of such assaults. The mis-sionary must then turn, in a way perhaps never before experienced, but anticipated in earlier prayer, to the reality of a suffering and dying Savior, who himself knew pain and rejection and the feeling of being an outsider. When'the Word pitched his tent among us, he certainly had to live as an alien in our midst, with disciples who failed to understand, with authorities who re-jected him, with hangers-on who melted away in the face of conflict. The mis-sionary can be helped spiritually, through intellectual resources and the study of the history of injustice or persecution in the area of hi~ activity. For exam-ple," in studying the near genocide of a number of ti'ibal cultures at the hands of invaders who made these people aliens in their own lands, the missionary can learn to approprihte the sense of weakness often felt by Christ himself in the face of the burdens of history. However, even in a badly wounded culture, one can experience gifts in greater number. Among many of the more traditional, or "primal," societies Missionary Prayer and the Problem of Inculturation / 337 of Africa or Asia or the Americas, can be found spiritual attitudes remarkably resonant with the Christian experience: creative suffering, prayer, contempla-t! on, worship forms, acceptance of death, ascetical practices. One can learn to appreciate the reverence of the people, the sense of appreciation for nature, the deep respect for spiritual realities. It is possible to learn to enjoy the music, the dance, the language, the good times, as they occur in a natural cycle of tribal events. Perhaps the missioner will even find in the new culture (not because he hates his own but because he loves it too) a new"sacred space" in which to be at home. As this occurs, one finds oneself both proclaiming and experiencing conversion. Missionary prayer is then truly coming to birth according to the mystery of the Incarnation. To sum up, then, Christian conversion is not a narrowing experience. While it focuses our gaze upon Christ as the Father's unique expression of love, it also constantly opens our horizons and leads us to greater social and cultural understanding. But the conversion process must be a composite of in-tellectual, moral and religious growth. Prayer alone will not achieve this, but without prayer the missionary is merely another cultural invader. A strongly incarnational prayer reminds one constantly that in Christ the Father has reconciled the divine and the human, and that we can indeed preach a transcendent faith that finds roots in local cultures. "When Did We See You?" Donald Macdonald, ,S. M.M. Fr. Ma~cdonald, master 6f novices for the Montfort Fathers, is stationed at the house of Maria Bhavan; D.R. College P.O.; Bangalore 560029; India. ~ watched a group of sisters, out walking, slowly pass a row of hovels. Out-side one of them, a little girl was squatting, cutting wood. Seeing the sisters approach, she put down her knife, joined her hands in the Indian way of greeting, and gave them a lovely smile. The sisters (presumably) never saw her. Three other sisters were walking some five or six yards further back, and I thought that perhaps one of them would have seen what happened, and so stop for a moment to make a fuss over the child. They, too, walked past. I still see the quizzical look on the child's face. Clearly, mistakes are easily made. It is also unfair and invalid to draw a general conclusion from a particular instance. But from years spent in pastoral ministry, not least with religious, I suggest that there may be more in that incident than many of us would care to see. Such insensitivity may be the rule rather than the exception. Those sisters may be like that even with each other. They just do not see. This same lack of insight may be a consistent feature of their everyday world: They may never really live in the present moment, and so miss so much of what is happening about them. If the mature person is "one whose center of gravity is where he actually is," it may explain the immaturity of some religious lives." What is needed is the ability to be both part of, and apart from, the present moment, to give oneself wholly in the present as an expression of a mature Christian faith. So much of religious life, especially as one gets older, can be so unsatisfactory for so many, because they are never really "alive." Any one, for example, who has ever been in the company of the present Holy Father, might judge that he is in fact a great parish priest of the time when such men 338 "'When Did We See You?" really knew their people. He is always aware of what is happening. Though he may be unable to speak to everyone individually, yet he neglects no one, regardless of how many are about him. What steps, therefore, can the religious take to try to become fully alive to the present as an expression of a mature Christian faith? Listen Like a Disciple Once upon a time, most religious began the day with a "morning offering." I suggest that this once-common custom should be revived to help give a precise focus to our day. A line adapted from Is 50:4 makes an ideal morning prayer: O Lord, give me a disciple's tongue. So that 1 may know how to reply to the weary, provide me with speech. Each morning, wake me to hea~, to listen like a disciple. We should pray that we may speak only what we have learned of God--a disciple's tongue. We beg that we may never ignore the weary, and so have something to say ~to the child, the~neglect of whom began these reflections. Ideally, we want to be able to answer the questions people dare not ask. We want to offer not just sympathy but empathy,, the ability to feel for and with these persons of our world. We must have time for those that n'o one else has time for. So important is this approach to the present moment, that we should ask God to wake us each morning to hear. But, more than that, we should ~vant to listen like a disciple. In whatever circumstances we are placed, we want to be aware of all that is happening, to assimilate our experience. The whole world is sacrament. Thus we are eager to listen like a disciple, to try and catch every, nuance and inflection of the world in which we live. Most of us share a com-mon degree of hearing and vision. What separates us one from another is insight, or the ability to respond to the unspoken word or gesture. Our prayer, therefore, should be that God would give us the sensitivity to be fully alive in our global village. Our center of gravity is ~vhere we actually are. A day begun with ~suCh a reflective prayer to God can ~urely help give definition to our approach to the present. If our minds progressively assimilate the assumptions underlying the prayer, experience, in whatever form it comes, will be integrated into our lives in God. Through Love in His Presence The religious may further deepen that basic insight, by attempting to share the grasp of reality found in the superb opening prayer of the letter to the Ephesians. There Paul's present situation is prison. The future prospects, in his estimate, probably included death by execut~ion.The past, an apostolic life of mixed fortunes, was evidently drawing to a close. In such circumstances :340 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 notice the approach of a mature Christian faith, and the astonishing balance given by such a center of gravity: "Blessed be God the Fathe~ of Our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with all the spiritual blessings of heaven in Christ" (Ep 1:3). There, the first move is to God. And what a God--"the Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ," who has given us everything. This, from a man in prison, towards the end of his life; no self-pity, nor justified disappointment, nor even the pretence of whistling in the cemetery to pretend he is not scared. His perspective is anchored in "God the Father of Our Lord Jesus Christ." Whata marvelously expansive opening to a prayer from a man shut in, and about to lose his career and his life. Then his faith, grasping reality,, takes him almost beyond the limits of imagination to the point of saying: "before the world was made he chose us, chose us in Christ" (Ep 1:4). The sense of awe and wonder is evident as it dawns on him, "the very least of all the saints" (Ep 3:8), that these moments of life have been given him by God. The immediate present is received as a gift from God in Christ offered before even the world was made. How does one quantify love on a scale like that? From this perspective, the present moment is an expression of the depth of the love of God for us that is quite literally beyond computation. One just receives and adores. To the extent that I can share this outlook, I allow God to love me in the present moment. Receiving life as so charged with the love of God, 1, too, deepen my capacity to love. I do not know when I first knew God, but from "before the world was made" God knew and loved me. The present moment is the focus of such love, where I "live through love in his presence" (Ep 1:4). This, l suggest, can be the center of gravity of a mature Christian faith. His Spirit Living in You Following Saint Paul, the religious can go still deeper into the present moment. "Do you not know that you are God's temple and that God's Spirit dwells in you?" (l Co 3:16). Individually or collectively, God is present among us in the only way that is real to us--through knowledge and love. Anything else is superficial. The point is given added emphasis when we remember that the word translaied "temple" i~s no(our word for Church, b~t rather, "tabernacle." "God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit which has been given to us" (Rm 5:5). Religious, aware of God so present to them and in them, could only respond in wonder and awe. Their very personality would reflect adoration. "Your body, you .know, is the temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you since you received him from God" (l Co 6:19). If the religious truly listened like a disciple to words like that, the love of God, found in the present moment, would take them to !he heights, and give them "the strength to grasp the breadth and the length, the height and the depth, until knowing the love of Christ which is beyond all knowledge, ~you are filled with the utter fullness of God" (Ep 3:19). "When Did We See You?" / 341 For the Praise of His Glory Despite possible appearances to the contrary, the above approach to reality, stemming from an understanding of baptism, is simplicity itself. It has to be if it is to center on the present moment. Here the religious is never in the position of the harassed motorist driving at night, and trying to cope with all the signals he is receiving at a busy road junction. Nor is it an artificial con-struct pieced together from a possibly outdated literary-form. Quite simply the religious is aware that he is loved by God. He has always been present to God. Life is God's gift to him, moment by moment. In responding to life so given, all that is deepest in him echoes awe, adoration and love. Thus does he begin to sound the depths of "the unfathomablk riches of Christ" (Ep 3:8). Aware of the presence of God within him, he believes that with that gift he has received everything (see Rm 8:32). As the reality of this dawns on him, the love of Christ overwhelms him, as he begins to see that "for anyone who is in Christ, there is a new creation" (2 Co 5:14,17). His center of gravity is moving gradually from self to Christ. Inescapably, and often at a level beyond words, his faith expresses itself in love, adoration, gratitude. In time, as he continues to allow God to 10ve him,his "life is hidden with Christ in God" (Col 2:3), so that, however imperfectly, he realizes, as a baptized Christian, "I live now not with my own life but with the life of Christ who lives in me" (Ga 2:20). Thus he tries to allow God full play in his life. As many religious know, such an approach to the present moment comes to be as natural as breathing. It is the normal, prosaic everyday basis of his life. It is the common coin he uses moment by moment. Living therefore in Christ in a sacramenthl world, one lives in the presence of God, not at some degree removed from him, as though he were a spectator. The smile and greeting of the child which provoked these reflections, can be seen as an expression of the love of God. Her puzzlement as she was ignored was surely an echo of the rejection of the love of God. The insensitivity of the religious presented a glimpse of Christ handicapped, unable to express his love for the child in that instance (see Ph 3:18). Attempting to listen like a disciple to what God might be saying in an incident that was over in seconds, one realizes all too well that, in addition to the above, there may be other inferences. Lord, in the child and the religious do I see you and me? Do I see your love always expressing itself in the most unlikely situations--and my response? Again, is that how I am to the people who come into my life? This reflection does not depersonalize the child, nor take from her her integrity as a human being. She is not a cipher. But viewed from the stand-point of Christian baptism, which is the basis and point of religious life, it is surely not illegitimate for us to deepen the realiz~ation that we are loved by God, that, as a result, we must "owe no one anything, except to love one another" (Rm 13:8). We are in debt, therefore, to everyone we meet, as we can never adequately repay love. There is perhaps no more exacting test of the authenticity of one's faith. The Threat and,the Thrill of Dominion Labour# Beneviile, S.C.C. Sister Labour~ teaches at Delone Catholic High School; S. Oxford Ave.; McSherrystown, PA 17344 Let us m~ike man in our image, after our likeness. Let him have dominion over the fish of the sea, the birds of the air, and the cattle, and over all the wild animals and all the creatures that crawl on the ground (Gn 1:26). In the light of the Genesis account, we know ourselves to be the hallmark of the creative power of God who transformed the darkness over the a~yss; the God who shaped the formless waste which was the earth; the God who made light to dispel the darkness; the God whose touch brought forth vegetation and seeds of every kind. Custodians of creation, we are challenged to find joy and fulf!llment in this awesome burden of nurturing the universe. To do so, however, we must discern the subtleties of our behaviorand try to strip away any repressive thought patterns which distort our presence to reality. By un-consciously excluding that which is painful, fearful, or even sublime, repres-sion is the ego's means of scaling down life-- that is, of reducing ffc~th terror and ecstasy to something within our control. From infancy on, we have been schooled to block out that which either threatens or diminishes our own stature; thus anxiety is minimized and we are able to move through life with a kind of equilibrium. 'Capstones of God's creative power, we are marked by an ambivalence which suffers from the pain of finitude as well as from the glorious burden of mirroring Infinitude. We live simultaneously on the brink of obliyion and the brink of infinity. Because the possibility of both destruction and transcendence are threatening, we too readily settle for the protection which illusion offers. But truth and ultimate fulfillment demand that we live face to face with the realization that the universe is teeming with wonder and danger 342 The Threat and Thrill of Dominion / 343 of colossal proportion; and we cannot let our consciousness of this inure us to the utter magnificence of that which has been entrusted to us. Instead of deflecting the wondrous mysteries of the world, we must so sensitize ourselves to our task and privilege that the fullness of God's glorious creation opens up before us, and thus we can revel in the inestimable joy to which we are heirs. ". mountainsand hills shall break out in song before you, and all the trees of the countryside shall clap their hands" (Is 55:12). The innate fear by which we resist the greatness to which we are called-- a Jonah complex according to psychologists--prompts us to entrench ourselves in mediocrity, security and conformity rather than bear the risk of the superlative. In the depth of our souls we glimpse our godlike possibilities, but quiver at the thought of having our potentials actualized. Intensity hurts. Pain--albeit a "nice" pain--is the counterpart of intense living. "We are only the earthenware jars which'hold this treasure to make it clear that such an overwhelming power comes from God" (2 Co 4:7). Our spiritual and.emo-tional yearning often seems to exceed our human capacity to withstand. Repression of the sublime is the defense which enables us to maintain our balance in a universe which would sweep.us off our feet if we were totally sen-sitive to it. Ecstatic moments, for instance, are too charged to be endured for long. Because we lack the strength to bear the miraculousness and force of life at its fullest, we cut back to an idle; we moderate the degree to which we will let ourselves experience the grandeur of it all. Closing ourselves off to the possibility of unlimited greatnessthus enables us to remain intact, untouched in the face of an overwhelmingness which might otherwise be devastating. In Thornton Wilder's Our Town, Emily perceives the truth of life only after she returns from the grave: "Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you. Do any human beings ever realize while they live it--every, every minute?" The stage manager answers: "The saints and poets, maybe--they do some." Just as the fear of greatness keeps us walled up, so does the fear of little-ness. In contrast to the rest of creation, we are at best miniscule, and that's ter-rifying. Man, the self-aware capstone of creation, is, in fact, insignificant. Our fragile position in a mighty world began with our helpless condition at birth. Despite unconscious efforts of denial, none of us can ever quite forget the fact that we were once dirty-faced, cry-baby kids who needed another even to change our diapers. As a species we may have been given dominion, but as individuals our personal histories are at best embarrassing. Unlike animals, we are endowed with a self-awareness which makes the truth of our fragility even more terrifying. "It means to know that one is food for worms., to have emerged from nothing, to have a name, consciousness of self, deep inner feel-ings, an excruciating inner yearning for life and self-expression-- and with all this yet to die.''t Ernest Becker, The Denial of Death (New York, 1973), p. 87. :344 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Paradoxically, it's this very terror of our own nothingness which has generated such self-assumed authority, such egoism. The instinct for self-worth and self-preservation has sparked the fantasies and repression which delude us about our true condition. Unable to cope with the reality of our littleness, we have let our egos construct vast networks of illusions by which we assert and argue our own value. Without these lies to feed off, life would be nightmarish. The rose-colored vision which repression insures protects us from the omnipresent bogeyman whose terrors would disarm us: if we ever dropped the mask of importance. According to Kierkegaard, the lies perpetrated by the ego are: the most natural ,defense against the anxieties of life. Dread would be overwhelming without the escape hatch which repression offers. Fantasizing about one's role or place in the cosmos is a comforting ex-ercise by which the emerging person obscures the truth which lies at the root of the human condition. The egoism which dominates us doesn't ring of pride as much asit does of escapism. It's weak man's instinctual defense against his smallness; against . total negation in an apparently capricious and topsy-turvy universe. Let's face it, over and above the natural disasters which threaten us, the evils We heap on one another are staggering: the haunting memory of six million Jews exter-minated; the wake of Three Mile Island and the threat of nuclear extinction; four hundred thousand boat people drowned; incessant wars and rebellions which decimate the hopes of nations. Rather than live vis-a-vis our fragile position, we prefer, in fact, to pull the wool over our own eyes. The crux of our failure to resonate with the challenge of dominion, then, is two-edged: a fear of greatness and a fear of littleness. Repression serves to protect us from a double apprehension about the latent power which might be unleashed in us, as well as from a sense of feebleness in the face of a vast universe. By blocking out any mystery or terror which dwarfs our stature, we live comfortably with the illusion of control. Repression makes the dark so cozy that we forget our need for the light. The price of this illusion, though, seems to be a lobotomy of the soul. We have anesthetized our spirits as a means of maintaining our balance. Undoubtedly, to have been made in the image of the Creator and subsequently entrusted with undisputed authority is a fearful heritage. If we are to attain our true stature, however, we must be persons who accept their creaturehood and are brave enough to live without the facade of power or righteousness or control. We will enjoy the thrill of dominion and minimize its threats only to the degree we can live with our own vulnerability--that is, to the degree we can shed the protective armor which has shielded us from so much of life. Thus psychology and religion merge as we relinquish the security blanket of egoism, which has so falsified our percep-tions, and posit our faith in the God who created us. The formula for such faith is basically simple: "One is a creature who can do nothing, but one exists over against a living God for whom 'everything is The Threat and Thrill of Dominion / :345 possible.' -2 The Scriptures clearly delineate the nature of this call to faith: faith in a God who has told us every hair on our head is numbered; faith in a God who knows when every sparrow falls to the ground; faith in a God who feeds the birds of the air and clothes the grass of the field with splendor; faith in a God who has said,. "No one who comes to me shall ever hunger and no one who believes in me shall ever thirst" (Jn 6:35); faith in a God who himself conquered death through resurrection. Such faith is the death knell to all the claims which the ego has so jealously guarded. Instead of making our own arrogant assertions the touchstone, our fundamental identity with Ultimate Power gives us our significance. Creaturehood is no longer a liability--rather, it's a hotline to the Creator. The very One who has called us into existence and given us authority stands behind us and before us. The secret fears which once eroded our joy and op-timism are dissipated the moment we see creatureliness as our claim to the Creator. Similarly, the inner yearning to proclaim ourselves and to experience the something more of life takes on new meaning as we accept our role as capstones of God's creative power. Our identity lies in imaging the Father and in nurturing that which his loving touch has brought forth. No longer is our personal worth determined by social and cultural norms; on the contrary, our individual worth is affirmed by our link with the transcendent God who created us and gave us dominion. Love has shared Itself. We have been made in his image. "Before you were born, 1 called you by name," The mystery at the heart of each of us makes sense and finds fulfillment only in relation to the Mystery at the heart of creation. ~ Becker, p. 90. Towards Mutuality in Ministry Sally Kenel, D. W. Sister Sally serves in the pastoral ministry of St. Mary, Gate of Heaven Parish. She resides at 85-28 Forest Parkway; Woodhaven, NY 11421. Which do you identify with more? A typewriter or a piece of paper? Santa's bag or a Christmas stocking? ~ These either/or questions attempt to indicate a basic tension that exists in identifying oneself as either a "giver" or a "receiver." We religious engaged in ministry probably tend toward the giver option. It is true that mfnistry requires service, but a forced choice between giver and receiver can set up a dualistic I-as-opposed-to-you dynamic. This dynamic, in turn, can be d block to the growth of the minister. Much of our training in religious life has reinforced the notion that "it is more blessed to give than to receive.'" Evidence of our working out of this framework can be found in such everyday responses to people as, "What can 1 do for you?" Immediately, the giver/receiver dualism is established. It is my contention that it is blessed to give and to receive; that the clear cut distinction between giver and receiver does not exist in reality; that there can be, indeed must be, mutuality in ministerial relationships. Since this belief was brought home to me in my ministry with the elderly, reflection on this concrete experience is what will give shape to much of this article. However, mutuality in ministerial relationships can exist between people of different ages, backgrounds, sexes, and so forth. In fact, all our relationships offer the possibility of blurring the lines that separate us, plunging us into that unity of all things in Christ. At first cons'ideration, the elderly may seem an. unlikely group to demonstrate that mutuality in ministry is possible. Often, our culture tends to focus only on the losses and depreciation of old age. Economically, in terms of the relationship Of expenditure to production, the aged person is viewed as Acts 20:35 346 Towards Mutuality in Ministry / 347 a liability. From the viewpoint of the dominant values of medicine, the process of human aging is considered to be totally negative. Moreover, the experiences of many people attest to the losses of aging: loss of income, loss of role, loss of status, loss of affection, loss of competency, loss of power-- to name a few.2 .Certainly, the elderly seem to be a group with serious needs, and meeting these needs can become an all encompassing task. However, to look only at the negative aspects of aging and to focus solely on the needs of the aged, starts us ministers on the road to that dualistic l-as-opposed- tozyou mentality. If mutuality is to be a possibility, we must get beyond the needs to the person. As we meet the person, it is my experience that we will find that revelation continues to take place, that we can receive. "What we like best about your visits, Sally, is that they help us to remember." This comment of one of our parishioners personalized what Becker describes as the special function of the pastoral minister, that is . to "bring up to date," so to speak, the treasury of accepting relationships in the life of the older person. The personal relationships which the pastor activates in the contem-porary history of the elderly will help them to "remember" (anamnesis) the past mercies of God, the past loving, unconditional acceptance of family, friends and members of the household of faith (hopefully)? ~ Becker goes on to indicate that this remembering is biblical in nature. It takes on the import that it has in the Scriptures especially in the Old Testament where "remembering was understood not merely in the sense of recall, but in the sense of reliving, reactualizing by recollection.'" Thus, in listening to the story of a~person's life, often we hear an individualized, unique version of salvation history; a testimony tothe action of God i'n the life of that person. ~ Nouwen says that the "great vocation of the minister is to continuously make connections between the human story and the divine story.''~ Several of the elderly people with whom I have had contact have made,these connections themselves during the course of their lives. From them 1 have learned much about their individual lives, much about the mystery of life, and much about the God who informs all our lives. From them, too, I have learned much about m~own humanity and my identity as a religious. That I would learn about the htiman condition 'from the elderly did not surprise me; in fact, 1 expected to learn from those who had experienced so much more of life~ However, 1 was unprepared for the fact that the lives of the elderly would have so much to say about religious,life, Yet, aging thrusts a person into new relationships with poverty, 10helines~ and oppression, the very conditions to which the vows speak. Thus,. 1 found that the elderly stand with us religious in witnessing to 2 Evelyn E. Whitehead, "Religious Images of Aging", in Aging and the Elderly, Spicker et al., eds., p. 37. ~ ~ Arthur H. Becker, "Judgment~and Grace in the Aging Process", Pastoral Psychology, XXVII (Spring 1979), p. 188. ' Ibid., p. 188. ~ Henri J. M. Nouwen, The Living Reminder (New York: Seabury Press, 1977), p. 24. 3411 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 common values. Let us explore this a little more deeply. According to Johannes Metz: Poverty as an evangelical virtue is a protest against the tyranny of having, of possessing and of pure self-assertion. It impels those practicing it into practical solidarity with those poor whose poverty is not a matter of virtue, bui is their condition of life and the situa-tion exacted of them by society.6 Actually, many middle-class people are impelled into practical solidarity with the poor by old age. Living on a fixed income in our inflation-ridden society does not allow some elderly people even modest comforts. For these, poverty is a new experience which can either be creative or devastating. It is creative for those who, during the course of their lives, have realized that the quality of a person's life is not determined by possessions or achievements. On the other hand, if a person's life has been completely caught up in amassing more money and possessions, the poverty that old age brings will be devastating. Those who deal with their new poverty in a creative way have much to say to those of us who accept poverty willingly. These people demonstrate how poverty can open the heart to surprise, wonder and delight in the simple things of life. Consider, eighty-nine-year-old Bernie whose eyes sparkled as she showed me a jar of grape jelly, the gift of her granddaughter. The jar of jelly represented much more than a welcome addition to her diet; it told her that she was loved and remembered. To Bernie, it was a confirmation of the goodness of people, and ultimately, the goodness of God. Faced with this sincere gratitude for such a little thing, I find myself becoming more'and more aware of the many gifts I have been given. Material possessions fade in mean-ing next to such gifts as good health, friends, and joy in living. It is with people such as Bernie that we religious can grow "to recognize, even celebrate, a deeper truth-- that no one ever earns his way, that life's meaning is more a gift than a reward.'" However, while appre~:iating the qualities such as gratitude which the elderly manifest, we must not lose sight of the poverty in which' they are rooted. This poverty is real. It is the kind of poverty that makes three meals a day a luxury and has the elderly counting out their last bit of change in the supermarket. It is the kind of poverty that keeps the house cold all winter long because utility costs are skyrocketing. It is the kind of poverty that isolates because traveling is impossible and a telephone is beyond their means. In short, it is the kind of poverty that invades one's very being; If we allow ourselves to see poor people like these, to meet them and to be touched by them, 1 believe that we religious will be challenged. What the outcome will be in terms of living out poverty will be up to each of us. But the elderly will have ministered to us, repeating the words of Christ: "There is one thing more you must do. Go and sell what you have and give to the poor; yow will have 6 Johannes B. Metz, Followers of Christ (New York: Paulist Press, 1978), p. 49. ' Whitehead, op. cir., p. 45. ~ Towards Mutuality in Ministry treasure in heaven. After that, come and follow me.''8 Metz goes on to define celibacy:. . celibacy as an evangelical virtue is the expression of an insatiable longing for the day of the Lord. it impels toward solidarity with those unmarried people whosecelibacy (that is to say loneliness; that is to say not having anyone) is not a virtue but their social destiny, and towards those who are shut up in lack of expectation and in resignation.9 ~' Along with poverty, old age often brings a new form of loneliness. Distance from family and friends becomes a foe too formidable for the decreasing energy of the elderly to overcome. Opportunities for making new friends are often more severely limited than before. Ultimately, death itself provides the final separation. With the realization that much more of one's life lies in the past than in the future, loneliness can assume new proportions. Only when they are older do some ~people seem to realize how lonely their lives have been. John, a single adult of seventy-six, admits that now he is fascinated by children. He loves to be with them, to talk with them, to play with them, to watch them. He claims that in his younger days I~e never reflected on what it would mean to "live on" through children. Now, he sees this as a definite lack in his life, a choice that he drifted into rather than con-sciously made. Loneliness has made him a~are of his lack of responsibility for his life and he regrets what might have been. However, his new awareness of the fact that life is meant to be lived with and for others has led him into caring for his older sister who is handicapped. Thus, loneliness for John, has led not to resignation but to service. Our loneliness which results from our celibate way of life can lead to ser-vice also. However, this is different from using ministry to neutralize one's loneliness. Just as John has moved from the experience of loneliness to that of being with and for another, so too, must we religious come in touch with our loneliness in order that we may capture its implications for service. For some people, the lonelines~ of old age is a new experience, one which can make them more vulnerable. Consider eighty-nine year old Bill who, in the nice weather, spends most of his time enjoying the warmth of the sun in front of his house. One day he was approached by a well-dressed man who claimed to be a friend of his son. After some pleasant conversation, Bill in- ViCed him into his home where the man proceeded to rob him. Bill's hurt and outr,age stemmed not so much from the loss of mbney but from the fact that "he came as a friend, but in reality was a crook." Yet, Bill was willing to risk again. He opened his door to me, another stranger, and invited me to share a part of his life. For him, loneliness helped to keep alive the hope that relation-ships are possible. This willingness to risk is an important quality for us religious to cultivate. What is the point oi" celibacy if we surround ourselves with people who protect us from meeting strangers? Our celibacy demands that we also be open to Mark 10:21. Metz, op. cir., p, 60. ~150 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 others in ways that manifest the hope that relationships are possible. Such openness calls for risks, and the elderly who often have been separated from their life-long companions can show us how to take such risks. The loneliness of the elderly, which is accentuated by a new awareness of death, can lead them to greater depths of faith and hope. If the, lives of the elderly tell us that relationships with people are possible, so too do they announce the reality 6f ~ relationship with God. Moreover, this relation.ship with God is not merely limited to the present, but has eternal dimensions as well. The elderly 1 have come in contact with have revealed a variety of ways of relating to the Lord in prayer. For some, recitation of formal prayers like the rosary is very comforting. Others have discovered fgrms of contemplative prayer. One woman, unable to leave her home, said tl~at at first she missed attending church, but then came to the conviction that the whole worldis a cathedral and that God is truly present everywhere. She looks forward to experiencing this presence in a new way after death. For me, her faith~an~d hope serve as a reminder of Jesus' words: "I am the resurrection. If, anyone believes in me, even though he dies he will live, and whoever lives and believes in me will never die.'''° It is in union with people such as these that our "longing for the day of the Lord" takes on corporate dimensions. It is in union with people such as these that we religious can break out of our own "lack of expectation and resigna'- tion." It is in union with people such as these that we religious can penetrate into the true meaning and value of our celibacy. Finally, Metz defines the ex~angelical virtue of obedience as: the radical and uncalculated surrender of one's life to God the Father who raises up and liberates. It impels one to stand close to those for whom obedience is not a matter of virtue, but the sign of oppression and of being placed in tutelage, and to do this in a prac-tical way.'t Growing older changes relationships, and often the elderly find themselves the victimsof oppression. A well-meaning son or daughter becomes convinced that the aged parent cannot live alone, and forces a move either to a relative's home or to a nursing home. An irate landlord, angered by the low rent an elderly person pays, refuses to make needed repairs. Doctors who refuse to make house calls make more frequent hospital stays necessary. The violent who prey uppn frail older persons can turn a routine trip to the bank in.:io a traumatic experience, and cause a person to live locked at home in fear. It is much the way Jesus put it to Peter: "When you were young you put on your own beet and walked where you liked; but when you grow old you will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt around you and take you where you would rather not go.'''2 Recently, I received a phone call from a woman whose children and grand- John I 1:25-26. Metz, op. cit., p. 67. John 21:18. Towards Mutuality in Ministry / 351 children were trying to move her to another state to be with them. "Please, please save me from their clutches." Her cry touched me deeply. Several days later I visited her. The pain of moving, the pain of leaving what had been home for forty-five years, the pain of separating from friends and neighbors, the pain of uncertainty about the future, were all still .there. However, something else was there, too. "They want me to move because they love me, and so I am going," she told me. Love was able to penetrate through her pain and make surrender a positive action. It is from this woman that 1 have learned much about "letting go," a characteristic so necessary for obedience. This attitude does not act as a sedativ~ for the pain that can result from having our desires and plans thwarted. It is not a withdrawal from life, a giving up because we cannot have what we want. Rather, it involves an active acceptance of what is, embracing the pain along with the joy. "Letting go" calls for seeing things in true perspective without the warping that our own fears and prejudices can bring to a situation. When we cannot let go of something it is usually because we wish that it were other than it is. We hold on to a relationship after its vitality is gone, wishing that it could return to its former intimacy. We insist on our way of ministering to others, wishing that their needs matched our own gifts a little more closely. We hold on to our anger and hurts, savoring them, but wishing that we were not so fragile and vulnerable. And yet, the wishing changes nothing. Our former friend moves out of our life. The ways in which we are asked to serve are often not what we would choose. We remain vulnerable people. It is in the difficulties that We experience in "letting go" that we religious are most closely united to those subject to oppression. Neither situation is easily remedied; both requi~e struggle. Yet the struggle itself is not sufficient to achieve liberation. This remains the gift of God. "If the Son makes you free you will be free indeed.'''~ And so, while we continue to struggle, we learn from others that the love which makes surrender possible is available to us. The elderly can teach us that liberation is a real possibility. In conclusion, as I have~ been ministering to the elderly, they in turn have ministered to me in a variety of ways. They have helped to bring about a new awareness and sensitivity in my ministry. I have become more conscious of the mutuality, in relationships, more apprec~ia~ive of the role of others in my life. "Giver" and "receiver" no longer seem like isolated, opposed ways of being. In fact, I understand to a greater degree how "it is in giving that we receive." This understanding helps me to approach others with more'humility and respect. No matter in what ways I minister to others, I am aware that they also are ministering to me. Mutuality in ministerial relationships offers oppor-tunities for growth that few of us, if any, can afford to pass by. John 8:36. Come and See: The "Cottage Program" M. Basil Pennington, O.C.S.O. Father Pennington's last article, "The Vocation of the 'Vocation Father,' "appeared in the May, 1979 issue. He continues to be "Vocation Father" at St. Joseph's Abbey; Spencer, MA 01562. The "Cottage Program" is an instrument of our cooperation in the mystery of the genesis of a vocation that I wanted to share with you through these pages. In our times, as it had been in the eleventh or in the fourth century, or in the time of Christ himself, serious-minded young men and women seek a teacher, a guide, a master-- someone who could give a fuller meaning to their lives. Andrew and John had traveled south, taking time off from their work. They had heard tell of a teacher, a prophetic man of God, on the banks of the Jordan, and joined the stream of seekers heading in that direction. They listened, they learned, they understood--perhaps more deeply than most, because, when the teacher pointed to another, they followed him. And he asked them: "What do you seek?" Ultimately,. that is the question the Lord addresses to each one of us. And the answer we give is the most significant decision of our lives, the decision that, consciously or unconsciously, decides all else that we do. If we listen to the deepest ye~arning of our hearts, we, too, will respond, "Master, where do you dwell?" Master!. Yes. Be our master, our teacher, our guide, and let us abide with you, wherever that may be for us. And he replies, "Come and see!" It is when we experience this presence of God, speaking to our deepest hearts, that we know we have found our Master, our Way, our Life. Some years ago I was in Rome taking part in a vocation conference sponsored by the Sacred Congregation for Religious. There were brothers and 352 Come and See: The "'Cottage Program" / 353 sisters, priests and lay religious from many nations taking part in the conference. One of the modern features of this conference was that each par-ticipant was :free to speak in his or her own language. One evening in the course of the program we had a question box. Archbishop Paul Philippe, the Secretary of the Congregation, was presiding, reading out the questions found in the box, and inviting answers from the floor. "Now, here is an interesting question," he said. "How do you get across to a young person the idea of the contemplative life?" A little priest from Brazil, a Salesian with an Irish name like McHale, jumped up. In rapid-fire Portuguese he explained that the only way one can convey to a person the nature and meaning of the contemplative life is to bring him or her into con-tact with it, and let him or her discover its meaning, l think Father was right. And I believe that is equally true of any way of religious life or anylife of a transcendent nature. "Come and see." That is the thinking behind theCottage Progr.am. There is on the property of St. Joseph's Abbey (near Spencer, Massachusetts) a small stone house with six rooms in all. It was built in the 1920's, hut the lodge-like living room boasts beams over two-hundred years old, taken from a barn that stood in the days of Ethan ~llen, the onetime owner of the property. The kitchen and dining-room have been converted into bedrooms. The garage is now a chapel, dedicated to St. John the Baptist, the 'first vocation director. In an icon over the altar he points to Christ in the tabernacle. Standing in the shadow of the recently built abbey, the cottage offers young men interested in monastic life the opportunity to "come and see." It is usually full, and at times more than full ("full" means five men, but the rooms can accommodate two, and there is also the attic. There is always room for one more!). Those staying at the cottage follow very much the same schedule as the monks. They' form a little community of their own, so they won't feel strange or lost in the large monastic community, but they do join the monks for the Office, the Eucharist and work. The men are welcome to come for a day, a weekend, a week, or sometimes even 'longer-- whatever seems good for them. They are encouraged to think of the cottage as their home--a sort of spiritual home base. They may come whenever they wish. To date, no one has abused this open hospitality. The first visit is usually preceded by some reading about life .in the monastery. Each evening the candidates (or "cottagers," as they are sometimes called) gather around the great stone hearth for a colloquium or a conference with the Vocation Father, where they can learn of the wisdom and ways of the monks and have their questions answered. In the course of his visit, each young man is given practical instructions on how to do spiritual or faith reading and how to meditate. If he already has a method of meditation which has proved fruitful for him, he is encouraged to continue in it. If it is one learned from an Eastern master, he is helped to see how to place it in a Christian framework so as to open it to the Spirit, to faith, 354 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 and to love, so that it can truly be prayer. Before he leaves, the candidate is asked to formulate his own rule of life and to go over it with the Vocation Father. Our method for this is simple: After reflecting prayerfully on l Corin-thians 2, the candidate takes four sheets of paper. On the first; he tries to ex-press as succintly as he can the present goals of his life as he sees them. On the second, he lists as fully as possible the things he has to do to attain these goals. On the third, he lists the things he sees have been preventing him from moving toward his objectives. And, finally, on the fourth, he formulates a daily pro-gram for himself, and also a weekly and monthly schedt~ie of particulai: events.* This gives the candidate a concrete, practical support for bringing into his everyday life something of what he has learned and experienced as he shared the monks' life accordin.g to their Rule. Such an experience helps the young man to recognize and foster' the grace of vocation he is receiving. In some chses, it may be a long time before an individual can enter the monastic community. The qottage, though, already gives him a sense that in some way he already belongs, that he has his place in the monastery and a'spiritual father who cares for him. In some cases, the cottage experience puts the young man in touch with the contemplative dimen-sion of his life and shows him how to develop it, even as he moves on to some other vocation. It is not as easy for active religious communities to provide a Cottage Program as it is for monastic communities whose life is centered in a stable fashion in one place. But it is not impossible, and I think it can be, in some way or form, very useful. Let me suggest what I think could be an ideal form for an active religious institute. Obviously, the ideal always has to be adapted as it finds its ieal incarnations. It has been my experience over the years that there are a significant number of active religious who feel the call to a more contemplative form of life, either on a temporary or a permanent basis. It seems sad that they must, in most cases, think of going outside their own communities to realize this. :Far better would it be I think, if, ea~:h province or congregation had its own contem-plative house or house of prayer. Here a core group of members, committed for varying periods of time, could live the spiritual dimension of the particular charism of the community in a fuller way, and devote time.to a deeper study of the institute's proper ~:harism. It would be a place where the other members of the community could come, for days of recollection or longer retreats, to get more deeply in touch with their shared charism, their own deepest spirit. Such a house of prayer or contemplative center would, of cours~e, form a very precious and enriching adjunct for the novitiate and house of formation. It could also greatly encourage and inspire the retirement community as the seni6r members live out their life commitment in a more c0nte.mplative way. Here, though, I am thinking of such a house as a context within which the o *For a fuller treatment of this method, see°the Epilogue of my book, Daily We Touch Hhn. Come and See: The "'Cottage Program'" / 355 vocation father or mother could offer the ministry of hospitality. The aspirants would be able to perceive in the core group,a good expression of the spiritual and communal aspects of the life of that community. It is precisely an attraction to these aspects that often leads ~ oung men and women to explore the possibility of living out their commitment to Christ and his Body in a religious community. There would always be a group of professed religiou~ there with whom the candidates could pray and work. These would normally be members more reflectively conscious of the charism of their community, of their own participation in the grace of the founder. And so they would be able to help the aspirants to identify the grace stirring in their own hearts. Such an arrangement-- a vocation program within the context of a house of prayer or contemplative center--will not always be possible, or even desirable in some cases. Another alternative for a Cottage Program would be the house of formation or novitiate, if the vocation father or mother could find a bit of space there; a few rooms, for the candidates and themselves, and a common room are enough. The formation team could be the "stable com-munity" providing the lived experience for the aspirants. And these young men or women could readily identify with the young people in the formation or novitiate program. Whatever the arrangements, the ingredients that seem to contribute to the makimal success of such a program are:" 1. The presence of a professed community which obviously lives the spiritual aspects of the vocation., though thi~ does not exclude involvement in active .apostolates. 2. Access to the younger members of the community who have recently embarked on this life and with whom the candidates can easily identify. 3. A vocation father/mother willing and able to function as a spiritual father/mother, to instruct in the spiritual arts, to pray with the candidates, and to pray for them. 4. Practical instruction in spiritual reading, meditation (we usually use Centering Prayer), and the art of receiving spiritual guidance. Merton's little book, Spiritual Direction and MeditatiOn, published by Liturgical Press, Collegeville, Minnesota, is good for this. 5. A rule of life. 6. An open and welcoming hospitality. We have found that frequently candidates tell others of their experience at the cottage and are eager to have them share ira this program. This has added to the almost geometric increase of caffdidates we have experienced since we have inauguratedthe Cottage Program. There are many other programs underway~in different religious orders and congregations, which include~ one or othi~r of the aspects of the Cottage Program. I do not propose this program as the only way or the best way, but simply share it as one way, a way that has worked very well for us. I believe it 356 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 has been not only successful in fostering vocations for our own community (we have seventeen in the novitiate at the moment), butin making a contribu-tion to other religious communities, and to the Church at large. This year more than three hundred fifty have stayed at the cottage. All have found it a beneficial experience. Each learned at least a little more~ about prayer; about community, about Christ our Lord and his great love for each one of us. Such fruit makes a Cottage Program more than worthwhile. Now Available As A Reprint Celibate Genitality by William F. Kra[t Price: $.50 per copy, plus postage. " Address: Review for Religious Am 428 3601 Llndell Blvd. St. Louis, Missouri 63108 Vocations: Identity and Commitment M. Marceiline Falk, C.PP.S. Sister Marcelline teaches at Bishop DuBourg High School; 5850 Eichelberger; St. Louis, MO 63109. Clearly we are living in times of crises. There are financial and political crises that make the front pages of our daily papers and evening newscasts. But there is another crisis, one that is becoming, or should be, of great interest and concern to those who love the Church of.Christ: that is the crisis of voca-tions to women's religious communities. " For centuries women religious, by their consecrated lives and devoted labors have fulfilled an important mission in the Church. Will they be able to continue that mission? Only if they are able to maintain their membership in sufficient numbers to continue in existence and so perform the apostolic ser-vices that the Church has entrusted to them. The severe drop in the number of vocations to women's religious com-munities is well-known. It is interesting to observe that both the sudden drop in religious vocations and the massive exodus of religious women engaged in active apostolates occurred at the same time that many communities were discarding religious habits, leaving earlier apostolates for other forms of ser-vice, and adopting life-styles more nearly !ike those of their secular counter-parts. Is there a causal relationship or at least a significant correlation between these concurrent phenomena? Are commitment to a specific apostolate and a readily perceived identity important factors in the viability of religious com-munities, as they are in other groups and organizations? Does a distin-guishable garb help to build an identity, promote a visibility which encourages vocations, make known that a religious woman is somehow different? Does a specific apostolic commitment attract the generosity of young women? Are 357 358 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 external life-style practices related to the number of vocations that a religious community can expect? If the answer to these questions is "Yes" then perhaps this will be instructive in our efforts to reverse the trend of too few vocations. In an attempt to find answers to the above questions, to ascertain the percentage of youthful members' in communities, and to establish a possible correlation between youthful membership and some readily observable life-style characteristics, 1 conducted a survey during the spring and summer of 1978. The results of this survey indicate that, indeed, the answer to these ques-tions is in the affirmative~ The results clearly show that religious communities which have kept a readily identifiable religious habit, however modified, and which engage in well-defined community apostolates do have more vocations. Many have adopted modified habits, but they are still readily identifiable as religious women~ Further, the term, "a definite community apostolate," need not preclude other works of charity being undertaken by the community in response to real need, when the work is not contrary to the spirit of the com-munity, and does not detract from the primary apostolate. The following questionnaire was sent only to major superiors of 300 active religious communities.2 The names were selected in a random manner from approximately 800 listed in the 1975 Catholic Directory. Responses were received from 223 or 74°70 of the sample. Of these, two were incomplete. The questionnaire used follows: Survey on Religious Life-style Practices A. 1. Nameofcongregation (or province) 2. Number of final professed sisters " 3. N~mber of sisters in temporary commitment 4. Number of novices of postulants 5. Number of other types of formation (pleasespecify) B. Policy of Congregation in regard to the following: 1. Is there a (superior, coordinator, Yes.____, No___. 2. 3. 4. .) in charge in each local house? Is this person elected , appointed ., other Other types of local government Are personnel appointments made a) __ by direct appointment.'?, ~. b) __ by choice of individual? c) __ by assignmer~t after consultation with the sister d) __ other (specify) Does your congregation have a definite commitment to a specific apostolate in the Church? Yes , No ? What is/are the principal apostolate(s) your sisters serve? Does your congregation have an official, d~stmctive habit? Yes " , No~__. ' Youthful membership includes sisters in temporary profession or promises and novices. Total membership includes final professed, temporary professed and novices. 2 Very small communities and contemplative communities were not included. Vocations: Identity and Commitment / 359 8. Does your congregation permit the use of secular dress? Yes~, No__. a) At the sister's own discretion? b) With thepermission of the major superior? c) Other (please specify) 9: Do the sisters have the use of a personal bridget? Yes~, No~. a) Is there a fixed amount? b) For what purpose may this budget be used? The questions in Part A we~:e used to provide information about the number of religious, and to determine the percentage of youthful membership in the congregations surveyed. The percentage of youthful membership can be used as an indicator of viability or numerical stability. Data from questions in l~art A were analyzed, and results are given in the following table. Com-munities were divided into nine groups, according to the percent of youthful members: Table I Group 07o Youthful Members No. of Communities % of Total Sample I Over 10% 18 8.1 o10 11 9.9-6.00/o 19 8.6°1o 111 5.9-4.507o ' 23 10.4070 IV 4.4-3.5070. " 28 12.6070 V 3.4,2.0070 29 13.1 070 VI 2.4-2.0% 29 13.107o VII 1.9-1.5°/0 23 10.40/o VIII 1.4-1.00/o 27 12.2% IX Less than 1 070 25 I 1.3% Let us assume that an average of about 10%0 of young members will allow a religious institute to maintain its membership,3 and that about five years elapse between entrance into the novitiate and final profession. This would mean that an average yearly entrance rate of about 2% would be required to maintain a numerically stable community.' If we accept this percentage of new members as necessary for the maintenance of numerical stability in the community, it takes into account an expected loss of 2% due to death or departures. Communities, then, which can categorize 10% of their population as "young," and which also have an influx of new members at the rate of 2% per year, would have a numerically stable, or even increasing membership. If a community can only describe 5% of its membership as young, this would indicate that it has been receiving new members at a rate of about 1%. A youthful population of 2% would suggest admissions at the rate of 0.4% annually. In each of these instances, given the typical 2% proportion of change due to death and departure, losses to the total membership would be statistically predictable: 1% and 1.6% respectively. The same predictability ' "Religious in the World (Statistics up to Dec. 31, 1974)," Consecrated Life I, No. 1 (1977). ' For example, a community of 500 would need an average of ten new members per year to main-tain a stable membership. 360 / Review for Religious, l/olume 39, 1980/3 would pertain to each of the nine categories of communities in our sampling. On the basis of these calculations, Group I would be expe.cted to maintain or increase its total membership. Communities in Groups II find IlI could be expected to have progressively slightly reduced membership. If the present trend continues for groups IV, V, and VI, their membership would probably be halved in three to five decades, while those in Groups VII, VII1 and IX might well cease to exist in about three decades. Obviously these calculations are premised on present trends. Factors, however, coulffchange in the future, and this could retard the fulfillment of these predictions-- or accelerate them. Part B of the questionnaire is concerned with som~ external, behavioral characteristics. The characteristics chosen are different from those usually associated with ~ecular life-styles, and traditionally have been common characteristics among active communities of religious women. Numbers one and two have to do with community governance. Numbers three through six are concerned with apostolate and personnel assignment. Numbers seven and eight deal with the matter of religious habit, and nine, with the question of personal budget. In each of thes~ areas, change became evident after the Second Vatican Council. One of the purposes of the survey was to explore the possibility that these changes had an influence on the incidence of vocations to the respective communities. To this end, the number and percentages of communities which evidenced a particular characteristic were tabulated, and compared against the percent-age of young members each community enjoyed. My fullest hopes in pursuing this investigation were not realized. Nothing could be concluded about postulants, or persons in other types of formation. Responses to questions 2 and 3B, concerning local governance, proved ambiguous, and indications concerning amounts and usages in the matter of personal budgets were too varied to admit of interpretation. Therefore, for purposes of our study, only Part A and questions 1, 4, 7, 8 and 9 of Part B proved useful for our analysis. In the tables which follow, the responses to the various items are grouped on the basis of .the proportion of youthful me.rnbers, i.e., on the basis of how those communities have succeeded in draw-ing new members to join them. Table 2 Percent of Communities With a Person in Charge at the Local Level Number in Group % of Group 10070 15 out of 18 83.3%0 9.9-6.007° 16 out of 19 84:2°/0 5.9-4.5070 18 out of 23 78.3070 4.4-3.5070 20 out of 28 71.4%0 3.4-2.5% 17 out of 29 58.4% 2.4-2.0% 18 out of 29 62.1% 1.9-1.5o/0 17 out of 23 73.9°70 1.4-1.0% 15 out of 27 55.6% Less than I% 21 out of 25 84.0% :Vocation~: Identity and Commitment / 361 Table 3 Percent of Communities with Personnel Placement After Consultation Number in Group °/o of Group 10% 16 out of 18 88.9% 9.9-&0%o 16 out of 19 84.2070 5.9-4.5°7o 17 out of 23 73.9°/o 4.4-3.5¢/0 24 out of 28 85.7%0 3:4-2.5%0 18 out of 29 62.1°/0 2.4-2.0%o 24 out of 29 82.8% 1.9-1.5%0 14 out of 23 60.9% 1.4-1.0% 20 outof 27 70.1% Less than 1% 20 out of 25 80.0% Table 4 Percent of Communities With Specific Community Apostolic Service Number in Group a/o of Group 10% 15 out of 18 83.3% 9.9-6.0% 16 out of 19 84.2% 5.9-4.5% 19 out of 23 82.6% 4.4-3.5% 23 out of 28 82. 1% 3.4-2.5% i4 out of 29 48.3% 2.4-2.0% 15 out of 29 51.7% 1.9-1.5% 14 out of 23 60.9% 1.4-1.0% 12 out of 27 44.4% Less than 1% 12 out of 25 48.0% Table 5 Percent of Communities with a Distinctive Habit Number in Group °/o of Group 10% 16 out of 18 88.9% 9.9-6.0% 15 out of 19 80~0% 5.9-4.5% 13 OUt of 23 56.5% 4.4-3.5% 23 out of 28 82.1% 3.4-2.5% 14 out of 29 48.3% 2.4-2.0% 14 out of 29 48.3% 1.9-1.5% 11 out of 23 47.8% 1.4-1.0% 8 out of 27 29.6% 1.0% 13 out of 25 52.0% Table 6 Percent of Communities Permitting Secular Dress at Sister's own Discretion Number in Group ~o of Group 10% 2 out of 18 I1.1% 9.9-6.0% 4 out of 19 21.0% 5.9-4.5%0 6 out of 23 26.1% 4.4-3.5% 9 out of 28 32.1% 3.4-2.5% 15 out of 29 51.7% 2.4-2.0% 17 out of 29 58.6% 1.9-1.5% 15 out of 23 65.2% 1.4-1.0% 19 out of 27 70.4% 1.0% 17 out of 25 68.0% 362 / Review for Religious, 'Volume 39, 1980/3 Table 7 Percent of Communities Using a Personal Budget Number in Group % of Group 10% 5 out of 18 27.8%0 9.9-6.0% 10 out of 19 52.6%o 5.9-4.5% 16 out of 23 69.6%0 4.4-3.5%o 22 out of 28 78.6%0 3.4-2.5% 27 outof 29 93.1% 2.4-2.0% 28 out of 29 96.6% 1.9-1.5% 20out of 23 ¯ 87.0% 1.4-1.0% 26 out of 27 96.3% 1.0% 25 out of 25 100.0% These tables indicate that the characteristics of a specific community apostolate and a distinctive habit do have a strong influence on the number of youthful members, and therefore, on the number of vocations to a com-munity. To test the degree of relationship between the given characteristic and the percent of youthful membership, a statistical analysis of the data given in the previous tables was made. The usual instruments of the Spearmann cor-relation coefficients and significance tests were used to demonstrate statistical correlation between the percentage of youthful members and .the various characteristics with the following results,~ The correlation between youthful membership and the characteristic of having "a person in charge at the local level" did not show any 'appreciable significance. The correlation was 38.33.07o with a corresponding significance of ¯ 154. This is evident from the data, which do not show much variation. Most communities reported a person in charge. Answers to the questionnaire on this point were frequently qualified by such statements as: "Yes, but not in smaller houses," or: "No, except in the larger houses." The correlation between youthful membership and the use of a personal budget is even less, at -31.67070, having a significance of .203. The negative correlation indicates that there is some slight decrease in the use of the budget as the percentage of youthful members increases. Again, although most com-munities indicated the use of a personal budget, the amount and kinds of restrictions on its use varied from very small amounts for the purchase of small, personal items to large amounts with practically unrestricted use. It was interesting to note that the use of th.e personal budget was least evident among communities which did not permit secular dress. Personnel placement after consultation with sisters shows a somewhat higher correlation, of 60.0°70, and a significance of .044. Possibly there is a ~ Spearmann correlation percentages, based on O- 100%, measure the tendency of two variable~ to vary ~together, that is to show a relationship to each other. Significance tests decide whether dif-ferences between values obtained from the samples and theoretical expeclations could be due to chance. A low significance factor indicates that the relationship studied could not be due to chance. Vocations: Identity and Commitment / 363 relationship between community apostolate and the placement of personnel in areas of community commitment. Of significance is the very high correlation between the number of young members and the existence of a specific community apostolate (90.0°7o and a significance of .001). This strongly suggests that a community commitment to a specific service in the Church has a strong influence on vocations. Such apostolic services were not necessarily limited to only one area of the apostolate. Many communities, in fact, indicated a wide range of apostolic services. But they were community apostolates, and not left to individual choice. A distinctive religious habit is also a significant factor in the number of youthful religious in a community. In this case, the correlation percent is 77.8070, with a significance factor of .007. The most highly significant correlation was the inverse ratio between the number of youthful members and the use of secular clothes at the sister's own discretion. Here a-98.33070 correlation coefficient, and a significance of .001 clearly indicate the negative influence of this characteristic on vocations.6 Ap-parently commun~ities having an open option for secular clothes fail to attract many young women. The characteristics analyzed in this study cannot be the only ones which in-fluence the number of vocations, and so affect the numerical stability of a religious community. Neither are they necessarily a measure of the internal fervor, or of the importance of a particular community's contribution to the Church and the People of God. Other aspects, such as the quality ofcom-munity prayer life, the kind of apostolate, the geographic location,ethnic origin, time of founding--as well as many other intangibles, such as com-munity spirit, understanding of the vows, and other internal characteris-tics- will certainly also have an effect on the overall picture. However, the statistical analysis of the data obtained in the questionnaire does clearly indicate that, generally, communities with a specific and well-defined apostolate, and those which retain the visible sign of the habit do have a significantly greater number of young members. Apparently these two fac- . tors do, in large measure, provide the initial visibility, the instant recognition of "Who We Are," and "What We Do" that are capable of drawing new members to the communities that possess them. 6 The negative percent means that the use of secular dress has a strong adverse effect on religious vocations. 364 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 Since these characteristics, a reasonably specific apostolic service and a distinctive habit (or nonuse of secular clothes) does seem to show such a high significance, it might be interesting to apply the conclusions to a real community. I made an analysis of membership trends for one particular community. This community changed its apostolic thrust from education to an open-ended .apostolate, according to which its present policy is to permit new members to choose their own apostolic field of service. The use of secular dress was also left to the discretion of each sister. A comparison of the membership of this community between the years 1961 and 1978 shows the following:' Table 8 1961 1978 Nurfiber of Final Professed 513 458 Number in Temporary Vows 47 1 I Novices 48 3 Total Membership 608 472 In 1961, the youthful membership (novices and "juniors") was 95, or 15.6% of the total. In 1978, these numbered only 14, or 3% of the total membership. This represents a net los's of 136 sisters during this seventeen year period, a 22% loss. During this same period, 94 sisters died, and there were 80 new admissions. There were also over 100 departures. The major loss due to departures and a decline in admissions began in 1968, when the policies of individual choice of apostolic service and the use of secular dress became effective. At this time, a new formation program was introduced, placing a strong emphasis on self-fulfillment and promoting individual choice of apostolic service and of the mode of dressing. The median age in 1961 was about forty-eight years. In 1978, it had risen to about 63 years. In 1961, about half the community was professed less than twenty-five years. By 1978, half the community was professed for forty or more years. During the last ten years, since the new policies of self-choice in apostolic service and the use of secular dress went into effect, only fourteen sisters made first profession. Surely this would indicate that the rise in median age is rather due to a lack of new vocations, and of departures, than to a ¯ general rise in the median age of the population at large. Further, it is clear that the median age of this particular community is much too high for com-placency about the future. The following table shows the shift which took place in the median age of this community: ' The year 1961 was chosen as starting date because it was the last year before Vatican ll; 1978 is the latest date for which statistics were available. Vocations." Identity and Commitment / 365 Table 9 1961 1978 Number of Years Number of % Number of % of Professed Sisters Total Sisters Total More than 53 18 3.0 61 13.0 48-52 22 3.6 44 9.3 43-47 30 4.9 65 13.8 38-42 40 6.6 79 16.7 33-37 55 9.0 42 8.9 28-32 65 10.7 32 6.7 23-27 78 12.8 37 7.8 18-22 65 10.7 32 6.7 13-17 39 6.4 40 8.5 8-12 48 7.9 15 3.1 4- 7 54 8.9 8 1.7 3 or less (Including Novices) 95 15.0 14 3.0'- Prognostications from this table make it clear that if the trends continue, and are not somehow reversed, it will become increasingly difficult for this particular community to continue its service to the Church, that, indeed, it faces a struggle for survival in the not too distant future. The. decrease in religious vocations is a grave concern for the whole Church, as the following statement of Paul VI in an address to religious women indicates: ~ In truth, here again we have to" make a double observation that is not a happy one. Religious vocations, for women, too, are falling off; yet both the Church and secular society have a gro.wing need for these vocations. This is one of th~ problems of our time, for whose solution we must work and pray? The importance of identity and apostolic commitment in fostering voca-tions is stressed by Cardinal Pironio, Prefect of the Sacred Congregation for' Religious and Secular Institutes: In a serious study of consecrated life--particularly in evaluating certain attitudes and concrete activities--there is no doubt that many things would change if we responded with loyalty to this question: "What do Christ, the ecclesial community, and the world in which we live expect of us?" At any rate, there are three aspects in consecrated life which it would be well to emphasize: The Church expects religious to be faithful to their identi-ty, to their essential values, and to their evangelical relevance . Religious are, before all else, Christians, but they are religious in a way that is unmistakably distinct . Religious identity d0es not segregate religious from the rest of the members of the People of God, nor does it remove them from the world; on the contrary, it identifies them and involves them in the world with their own, unmistakable specificity . The loss of identity is one ~ Pope Paul VI, "New Horizons for Women Religious," address given to women religious on the feast of the Nativity of our Lady, 1964, Documents on Renewal for Religious, Daughters of St. Paul, 1974, p. 57. 366 / Review for Religious, Volume 39, 1980/3 of the causes today of the drop in vocations to consecrated life. When an institute's iden-tity disappears, or is jeopardized, it is only logical for young people to lose their en-thusiasm and become disoriented. Being faithful to one's self is therefore to take on a strong commitment with God and with men. it is the essence of our vocation, and of our consecration, and of our mission.~ I The words of our Holy Father, John Paul II, spoken to mothers general on November 16, 1978, just one month after his election, are particularly significant: And if your consecration to God is really such a deep reality, it is not unimportant to bear permanently its exterior sign which a simple and suitable habit constitutes; it is the means to remind yourse!ves constantly of your commitment which contrasts strongly with the spirit of the world; it is a silent, but eloquent testimony that our secularized world needs to find on its way, as many Christians, moreover, desire. 1 ask you to turh this over carefully in your minds. '° This study of external behavioral characteristics as related to vocations is an attempt to contribute to a serious study of possible causes for the evident decline in the number of religious vocations to active communities of women in the United States. While it is true that this is only part of the total picture, it is hoped that a spirit of openness would encourage communities to consider seriously the impact of these external behavior patterns on the perception of what religious life is all about. The interior spirit of a community is of the ut-most importance, but the external manifestation of that spirit of dedication, the willingness to be recognized by a religious habit and the having of a specific apostolic commitment to the service of Christ in the Church and the world is also important. These externals advertise for all to see: "We are religious! We do believe that our.being and our service are essential to our specifically religious witness." 9 Eduardo Cardinal Pironio, "Th~ Joy of Fidelity," Consecrated Life Ill No. ~, 1979. ,o Pope John Paul 11, "Be True Daughters~ of the Church, Not Orily in Words But in Deeds," Strain Forward, Vol. 12, No. 1, January 1979. How About a Semi-Sermon Sometime? M. Eucharista Ward, O.S.F. Sister Eucharista teaches at St. Ladislaus Higl~ School; 2697 Caniff Ave.; Hamtramck, M 148212. It was hard to imagine how God could add to a spiritual nurturing that for ten years had seemed almost the equivalent of hothouse conditi